The Accidental Mistress (20 page)

Down went his hand, drifting slowly over her thigh and knee before retracing his original path. A tremor raced through her frame, strong enough for him to feel.

"Ethan," she sighed on a near sob. "What are we doing?"

"What we should have been doing for weeks. What we were meant to do together." Taking her mouth, he kissed her with a kind of silent desperation. "Do not tell me you don't want this."

"I … do. But I should not."

"Why should you not? Does it not feel exquisite? Does it not feel right?"

Rotating his hand on her upper thigh, he moved his fingers around to trace the entrance to her inner feminine flesh. Without delving farther, he knew she was damp with desire.

Lily shuddered, her body in the grip of a driving need, a deep inward ache that begged to be assuaged—by Ethan.

He is right,
she confessed.
His touch does feel exquisite.
So much so that she'd finally had to give up the illusion that she was caught up in some wonderful, half-waking dream.
But I am not dreaming at all. Ethan really, truly is touching me and merciful heaven, I like it. Love it, if truth be told.

Nonetheless, she sensed that he would stop if she insisted. But did she really want to insist? And how could she possibly bear it if he did?

Calling upon all her old warnings and concerns, she waited for them to snap her out of her haze, to make her see reason and prudence. But her conscience stayed silent this time, refusing to lift so much as a finger in her defense.

Then Ethan caressed her again, stroking the trembling flesh no other man had ever touched.

Her mind grew dim.

"Yes," she murmured, unable to form another coherent word. "Yes." Leaning upward, she found his mouth with her own.

As if her willing response had unleashed some caged beast inside him, he growled low in his throat and began savaging her lips, her surrender apparently snapping the last tenuous hold he'd kept upon his restraint. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he cupped her head and angled her mouth so he could take her in deep, openmouthed kisses that made her mind spin and her body clamor.

Clasping her left thigh in his other hand, he drew her leg upward onto his stomach. Some thick, heavy protrusion strained upward as if struggling to burst free of his trousers, the flesh—his flesh—shifting in obvious eagerness as her knee rubbed across its length.

He groaned and kissed her harder.

Is that him?
she wondered in amazement.
His … male member?

A second later she had no time to think further as he slid a finger inside her. Shocked sensation broke like a fever through her body, her world narrowing abruptly down to his hand and the way he was stroking her with such incredible intimacy.

Slick and hot, her body welcomed his intrusion, the ache she'd felt earlier increasing threefold. Her hunger spiked again when he drew the finger out and returned with two.

Reacting without conscious thought, she bit his lower lip. He pulled back and paused before slowly licking the small wound. Then he was kissing her wildly again, while below his fingers glided in and out and in and out again.

She whimpered and broke away to bury her face against his neck, panting desperately for breath. But he wasn't content with that arrangement. Leaving his fingers in place inside her, he shifted her body upward, sliding her over him until she lay with her chest near his face. Using his other hand, he yanked aside her already loosened bodice and shift and fastened his mouth to one naked breast.

His fingers started moving inside her again the same instant his lips began to suckle—hot, wet pulls that seemed to connect directly to the flesh throbbing between her legs.

As though from a distance, she heard herself moan, her hands coming up to cup his face, her fingers laced into his hair while he feasted upon her, both inside and out.

He scraped his teeth against her nipple and sent her whole body shaking. Held completely in his thrall, she could do nothing but feel as he shifted his hand and did something quite extraordinary with his fingertips.

A jolt of pleasure exploded inside her, stealing her breath as she cried out against the sensation, each nerve ending sparking with delight, weeping with bliss.

For a long moment her mind went blank.

"I'll wager you never felt that with your husband," he said, his lips momentarily releasing her nipple.

"Who?"

A healthy, satisfied chuckle came from his belly. Cradling her in his arms, he rolled her to her back. "You'll never forget
me,
my dear Lily. Once we've made love, my name will be forever burned on your soul."

It is already,
she realized, knowing she ought to be alarmed by the notion. Yet for now, all she could do was lie limp while he stripped off her dress and shift, leaving her naked except for her stockings and garters. Instead of removing those too, he sat up and thumbed free the buttons on his falls.

In the darkness she couldn't see precise details, but she made out enough to give her pause. Unless she was misreading the dim angles of moonlight and shadow in the room, Ethan was big—huge, in fact—his male member protruding like a long, thick, stiff rod from between his muscled thighs.

How,
she wondered,
does he keep all that flesh tucked inside his trousers?
And why haven't I had the urge to stare at the area in the past? Her cheeks burned, and not from passion this time. Then a new thought occurred.
Surely, he doesn't intend to put that in me, does he? He'll rend me in two!

But Ethan didn't seem at all concerned as he flung his trousers aside and crawled toward her again. Stretching out carefully so very little of his weight actually rested upon her, he crushed his mouth to hers.

Lily tried to relax, tried to focus on the undeniably mesmerizing beauty of his kiss, but that hard, hot part of him was pressing against her belly, twitching slightly, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

His lips skimmed her cheek and nose and temple before roving over her throat, down to her collarbone, where he paused to lave and suckle a patch of skin in a way she suspected would leave a mark. His broad palms glided over her skin, pausing to play with her breasts before flowing over her hips and thighs, then down to caress one silk-covered calf.

The ache flowered again between her legs, leaving her edgy and in need. Shifting restlessly, his shaft rubbed between their bodies, jerking strongly this time.

She tensed.

"What is it?" he murmured, catching an earlobe between his teeth. "Is anything wrong?"

Using the warm, wet edge of his tongue, he licked around her ear, then behind it, scattering kisses against a spot that made her toes arch, and her pulse stutter and jump.

"Nothing," she denied.

"Hmm, are you sure?" His warm breath flowed across her cheek. "Lovers can tell each other anything, you know."

Can they
?
What a seductively dangerous idea! What would he think if I told him I am a virgin?
For a brief second she considered the idea, but decided she had better keep her secret to herself, since such a revelation might lead to explanations she would rather not make.
Still, what if he finds out without me saying? Can men tell things like that?
Hoping they couldn't, she held back her confidence. Her thoughts softened when he cupped a breast in one hand and idly circled his thumb around her areola.

"Go on," he coaxed, "tell me."

Tell him what? Oh, that.
She supposed she could share that. "You're big," she whispered.

He paused and began to shift his weight. "Am I too heavy?"

"No," she said, reaching out to hold him in place. "You are fine, that way. It's just your … you know … your—"
Lord, what should she call it?
"Your …
thing
is big. Huge."

"My thing? Oh," he murmured in sudden understanding. The
thing
responded, improbably stiffening even more. His lips curved. "I suppose I am amply endowed in that area. Ladies generally profess delight at the prospect, however." His hand stopped playing on her.

Lily swallowed and forced her fears past her lips. "If you must know, I do not think you will fit."

Ethan almost laughed, swallowing down the reaction before the sound could escape. A moment later, he was glad he had, realizing she was serious—and a little afraid, despite her instinctively passionate nature. For the past few minutes—ever since he'd discovered how small and tight she was inside—he'd deliberately been holding himself back, pacing his movements so she would be fully ready when he entered her.

From her reaction to his naked form, though, he could tell that her husband had not only been a tentative, unskilled lover, but had possessed a tiny penis as well. No wonder she hadn't been satisfied in the past.

"Do not worry," he promised in a low voice. "I will fit. You'll sheath me like a glove."

A faint gasp came from her throat.

"Would you like to touch me?"

"Where? There?"

"Yes."

"No!"

A silence fell.

"It is only me, you know," he explained, "a part of my body like any other."

Well, not quite like any other,
he admitted, since his
thing
as she'd dubbed it was currently urging him to stop all the talking and bury itself inside the wet, pliant heat awaiting them both between her soft thighs. But he could control his urges and his needs—for a little while longer, anyway.

Just when he thought she was going to stand by her refusal, her hand moved up and brushed against him. He bit his lip to hold back a moan. The edges of her fingertips feathered over him, sending his heart kicking hard beneath his rib cage, his breath shallow in his lungs.

Forcing himself to hold still, he let her explore in that fashion for another minute. With her tentative touch driving him mad, he finally caught her hand and wrapped her soft little fingers fully around his shaft.

A low groan sang from his throat.

She stopped and started to pull back. Striving not to exert too much pressure on her hand, he held her in place. "Do not stop."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he grated out from between clenched teeth. "I'll let you know when you need to cease."

Emboldened, she caressed him, running her curled fingers up and down him in a velvety, gliding stroke.

"Oh," she sighed. "You're so hot and hard, but sleek."

"And you are hot and soft and sleek. Let's see if you're wet, too."

Without waiting for her consent, he parted her thighs, then slid a pair of fingers inside her again, testing the readiness of her response.

She moaned, her hand contracting on his flesh.

Gently easing out of her grasp, he stroked his fingers inside her, working in a rhythm designed to bring her maximum pleasure.

Her head rolled back against the pillow, her breath starting to come in tiny pants.

Wanting her as slick as possible, since penetrating her might not be as easy as he'd suggested, he closed his mouth around a breast and began to suck, using his tongue and teeth in a way he knew would bring her to the brink.

When she was literally writhing beneath him, her fists clenched into the bedclothes, her eyelids squeezed closed with wrenching desire, he pulled his hand and mouth away, then leaned up onto his knees.

Parting her, he settled himself between her splayed legs. Widening her more with his knees, he stretched her fully open so he could take her in a few deep, penetrating strokes.

Positioning himself, he thrust.

He frowned at the resistance he discovered. Thrusting again, he gained an inch, then another. She cried out, palpable tension returning to her body. Perspiration dampened his brow, his body engulfed in a profound hunger he could not stop or deny. He thrust twice more, seating himself only halfway. And that's when he realized the problem.

His eyes flashed wide to find hers in the dark, words rising to his lips. But then she moved again beneath him and he forgot everything else but the overpowering need to take her.

She shifted, bucking slightly as if she were trying to dislodge him; instead, her actions unknowingly helped him slide deeper. With a guttural groan, he curved his palms beneath her buttocks and angled her upward, urging her legs to lock around his waist. The change in position, and one last good thrust, drove him to the hilt.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

Softly, he kissed it away, then gave himself over to the moment as he began to move within her.

Lily clenched her teeth and fought the pain and the intrusion of his penetration. Biting her lip, she prayed his possession would be over quickly. For nearly a minute, he barely moved inside her, his strokes shallow as though he were allowing her to grow used to the sensation of him within her. As he did, something began to change; her inner muscles, which had only moments earlier been complaining of their abuse, softened and relaxed, clasping him tightly, as if she were indeed a glove.

An almost embarrassing wetness formed between her legs, the added lubrication allowing him to slide more easily back and forth. Desire unfurled like a fist low in her belly, gradually radiating upward until her whole body was consumed by flame.

Groaning, he thrust harder, faster, his motions taking him impossibly deeper. Holding on, she gave herself over to the ride, pleasure beating like a drum in her system, blurring her thoughts, leaving her with no anchor save one—Ethan.

She repeated his name in her head and on her lips, her mouth open as she struggled to find air. Clasping her arms around his sweat-slicked back, she surrendered herself to his hunger and found more of her own, drinking the sweet sensations in deep, greedy gulps.

As earlier, bliss flowed through her bloodstream. Yet this time, when she came, the rapture nearly broke her, a wail of glory literally singing from her mouth while ecstasy flooded her frame.

Shivering, her mind spun, Ethan pumping hard and fast, almost relentlessly until abruptly he stiffened above her. A harsh shout erupted from his throat as his body did the same.