Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

by Nicole Morgan

  Yet, he couldn’t seem to get close enough, deep enough. He pumped his hips forward and back, again, and again, his every thrust heavier, harder, than the one before. His heart thumped in his chest and his pulse surged, urging him on, taking him higher, but it was ultimately her soft, keening cry and the rippling of her second climax that milked him to completion, leaving him drained and lightheaded from the incredible, shuddering release they’d shared. But in no way had he sampled enough of her to quench his desire. No, he needed more and it just might take all night.

  And there wasn’t a moment to waste.

  Chapter Eight

  Ottavia made a sound of protest when Julian pulled away. The kitchen counter wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, but she wasn’t ready to give up his touch. He pressed his lips against hers briefly then pulled away.

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t finished by any means.”

  She shuddered at the tone of promise.

  He surprised her when he finally released her from the bind of her bra. The discarded scrap of clothing fell to the floor.

  “Wrap your arms around my neck, your legs around my waist.”

  The tenseness in his voice sent a shiver up her spine. She had a feeling their night was just beginning. If she obeyed his command. She would be crazy not to. Doing as he asked, she gasped when he slid his hands under her bare bottom and lifted her up into his arms. He made his way to what she realized was the bathroom, then set her on the vanity ledge beside the porcelain sink.

  Once again, he moved away. She watched as he discarded the used protection before cleaning himself. When he came back toward her with another damp towel, she tried to remain relaxed.

  When the warm towel touched her tender flesh, she moaned.

  He paused, concern flickering over his expression. “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. Closing her eyes, she fought to remain still as he gently cleaned her.

  “Relax, Ottavia. Just let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

  It was hard to remain upright at the sincerity in his voice. Those were words she never imagined Julian would say. Now that she had, there was no way she could deny his request.

  Her eyes snapped open when the towel disappeared. Julian’s heated gaze was directed toward her.

  “Are you ready, Ottavia?” he asked as he stepped between her legs.

  Just as she opened her mouth to ask him what she should be ready for, he flattened his hands against her breasts, doing nothing more than squeezing the nipples in his palms. The tips tightened and shot out in instantaneous reaction.

  “Yes, you’re ready. Just relax and feel. I will take care of you.”

  Relax? Feel?

  Ottavia’s breath squeezed out of her chest as a bolt of instant heat shot from her nipples straight down to the juncture of her thighs. Would it always be like this with Julian? Instant and hot and sudden.

  He tugged at her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling on that invisible string that jerked a dampening reaction between her legs. The counter was cold beneath her bottom, but she could feel the heat building inside her, coming out of her, making at least one strip of that porcelain very, very hot.

  “Ah!” she cried out when the nip of his teeth replaced his hands. Julian grazed his lips across the sensitive tips. When he pulled back, she whimpered.

  “Touch yourself, Ottavia.”

  He moved her hands from his hard, solid chest to the softer, straining contours of her own. He moved his hands over hers, silently instructing her on just the right way to pluck and squeeze and rub and excite herself.

  “Stay busy up here, baby. I have other things to take care of.”

  She moaned loudly when he touched her intimately. He pushed her thighs further apart and squeezed them in his palms, rubbing the pad of his thumbs against the sensitive nub between her feminine folds.

  “You look so beautiful,” he murmured a split second before he dipped a finger inside her. Then two.

  Her thighs automatically clenched against the electronically charged zap of pleasure.

  But she couldn’t close herself. Julian was there. His hips kept her knees apart. She could only squirm and push against his hand to try to ease the torment. With his fingers massaging her inside and out, she felt herself swell. She felt his fingers slick with her need. The scent of her own honey-sweet aroma filled the tiny space of air in the bathroom.

  She was thrown slightly off kilter when Julian moved his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her, pulling her right to the edge of the counter. Knocked off balance, she had to lean back and brace herself with both hands.

  She was so open. Open and wet and vulnerable. Julian’s fingers plunged into her again and her thighs convulsed.

  “You look so gorgeous, Ottavia.” He whispered his husky command. “I have to taste you.”

  His hands pushed against her and her thighs were pressed further apart. Then he was kneeling in front of her, his light hair an enticing contrast against her darker skin. She tried to close her legs, unable to take the intensity of the moment any longer.

  In a contest of strength and subconscious will, he held her open. His tongue lapped at her crevice and she bucked in reaction. With his lips protecting her, he nipped at her swollen clitoris. His scratchy beard stubble rasped against her most delicate skin.

  She contracted. Julian pushed. He plunged his tongue inside her and began to suck in earnest. Her breathing picked up the same frantic rate. He drank her honey and pulled on her some more.

  It was too much. His inner strokes were more than she could bear. She squeezed her thighs and buttocks, demanding her release. But against Julian’s strong hands, she couldn’t close herself. She could only move herself closer, drive herself against the marauding assault of his hands and mouth.

  As if sensing her breaking point, Julian slipped his fingers beneath her bottom and lifted her right onto his mouth. With his superior strength, he lifted her off the counter and plunged his tongue into her one final time. When he curled his tongue upward and gave one hard suck, she screamed. Everything inside her clenched, then bloomed and flowed with her release.

  Before she could come down from the pinnacle of pleasure, Julian swept her up into his arms and carried her toward her bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed before stepping away. He removed the rest of his clothing through heavy lidded eyes.

  “You are so beautiful, Ottavia. Absolutely beautiful.”

  Weak and spent, she could only lay there and try to catch her breath. Julian finally joined her on the bed, drawing her into his embrace. She wasn’t shocked when she felt his interest begin to butt itself against her thigh. Yet, she didn’t know if she could go another round. Julian had proven himself to be a very thorough lover. Still, there was no denying the stirring of passion within her. But this time it was his turn to be at her mercy.

  She stretched up beside him and pressed her lips against his throat. Her tongue rasped against the prickle of his stubble, drawn to the warm beat of his pulse beneath the salty tang of his skin. She stretched further up to nip at his chin, dragging the tips of her breasts across the curling, coarse hair on his chest. She repeated the motion and the pert, dusky peaks strained to attention. A thousand little pinpricks of sensation awoke throughout her languid body, from her tender nipples down to the aching juncture between her thighs.

  Julian slid his hands down to her waist, his calloused palms waking each bundle of nerves they touched. He angled his mouth to hers and she lifted her mouth to meet his, as eager to possess as she was to be possessed. The stubble of beard abraded her lips, but he soothed her tender skin with the warm lap of his tongue. She feasted and supped and gave and surrendered.

  A warm serenity lit deep in her belly and close to her heart. Julian’s lazy, thorough kiss blew life into the embers of her desire, stroking the fire more slowly this time, unlike the spontaneous combustion of their earlier joining.

&n
bsp; She was beginning to understand what it felt like to desire someone, to crave them. The thrill of surprise. The pleasure she continued to experience because of his erogenous knowledge. Her head fell back to give him access to the erotic spot at the base of her neck. With each tortured breath, her body brushed against his, aroused her need.

  “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered, sliding her palms to the center of his chest.

  “My pleasure,” he answered, nibbling at the point of her shoulders.

  “Thank you for seeing to my satisfaction as well. Now I want to see to yours.” She gave him a shove, rolling him onto his back before rising up to straddle him.

  He rested his hands lightly on her knees.

  She could barely make out his eyes in the moonlight drifting in through the bedroom, but she saw enough to tell her what she needed to know. His words confirmed it.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She felt wicked and powerful. “You’ve worked so hard up to this point, I want you to relax this time.”

  He wiggled his hips, sliding his jutting arousal along the seam of her buttocks. “It’s little late for that.”

  “We’ll see.” She leaned forward and flickered her thumbs across his nipples, hoping she could get this right.

  Julian smiled. “Nice.”

  With her gaze pinned to his, she brought her hands up to her breasts and cupped them in her palms. She flicked her thumbs over the rosy tips, playing with her nipples just as she had played with his. Something that resembled a growl rumbled deep in his throat and Ottavia smiled.

  “That’s really nice.”

  She reached down and flattened her hands over his nipples, then she rubbed them up and down, long, slow strokes down to his waist and up to his shoulders and down again. She reveled in the tickle of the crisp hair on her sensitive palms, the warmth of smooth skin at her fingertips.

  She covered her own breasts and gave herself the same sensuous massage. Up over her breasts, down to the crease of her thighs. She created a delicious friction as she stretched and rubbed herself. Julian’s observant gaze missed nothing, darting to capture every detail. His blatant pleasure became hers.

  Taking care to avoid his rigid shaft, she moved down to sit on his thighs. She reached for him. She stroked him gently, lubricating her fingers with the drop of moisture at the tip. Each stroke taking her further, closer, until her fingers nestled in the thatch of dark hair surrounding him. Sliding beneath, found that ultra-sensitive ridge of skin. She cupped his testicles then traced her fingernails lightly across their mass.

  “Ottavia.” His chest rose and fell in a deep erratic sigh. He clutched handfuls of the sheet tight with shaking fists.

  She gave him a moment to recover. And herself. For this was definitely a first for her. While she was no stranger to passion, it was the first time she felt she could be so open with someone other than herself. An experience she planned to enjoy to the fullest. When she saw his hands relax a little, she touched herself.

  She rose up on her knees above him, stroked herself just as she’d stroked him. She opened her mouth to catch her breath as she rubbed her fingers against the sensitive nub. She dipped her fingers inside, feeling her own feverish core flood with heat. Slick moisture coated her fingers. She braced one hand against his thigh and let her eyes drift shut, feeling her body began to throb, feeling herself drip onto her hand.

  But this was for Julian. So she tore her mind from the precipices of rapture and pulled her fingers free. She touched his penis, coated the engorged shaft with the liquid proof of her desire before touching herself again.

  “Ottavia. Sweetheart.” He clutched at her thighs. His hips twisted beneath her.

  Muscles clenched between her legs. Her buttocks pressed together. Her toes stretched. Her breast tingled with her taut need for release. She dipped her fingers inside herself and squeezed the nub.

  As the orgasm took her, Julian watched, not moving until the last wave flooded her. She moaned when he gathered her close, then rolled until her back met the bed, before pulling away. She watched through heavily lidded eyes as he reached for his pants. When he came back with a foil packet, she exhaled softly. He sheathed himself quickly then reached for her, pulling her over him as he rolled onto his back, putting them back in their original position. He shifted his body and pulled her down over his hot, throbbing shaft.

  She loved the stretching, consuming, filling sensation of taking Julian inside her. His hands anchored her thighs beside his hips and he began to move, thrusting himself impossibly deeper. He moved his thumbs to her arching nub and began pushing, pressing, rubbing her from the inside and out.

  It was too much. She was going to come again.

  “Julian—”

  “Touch yourself, baby.” His hoarse command echoed her own trembling need. He guided her hands back to where they were joined together. “Come for me.”

  He enclosed her breasts in his hands and squeezed them, pinching the tips while he bucked beneath her. Riding her lover like the thoroughbred he was, Ottavia arched her back. She cried out as the exquisite torment seized her for a second time. Julian hammered into her with one final, mighty thrust.

  After he pulsed the last time inside her, she collapsed onto his chest. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her roughly, quickly, seeming as short on breath and energy as she. She tasted herself on his mouth. Tasted the wonder of sexual rapture fulfilled. Julian’s loving hands were relaxing her muscles and putting her to sleep. Still, even in her drowsy state, she realized the significance of what she’d just shared with Julian, and even though she’d only asked for one night, for the first time she found herself hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

  Chapter Nine

  Ottavia stretched slowly, moaning softly at the delicious ache between her legs as she slowly came awake. She could still smell Julian’s masculine scent, but he was no longer next to her in the bed. Last night had been better than she’d ever dreamed it could be. Between the pleasure she’d experienced and Julian’s stamina she felt beyond satisfied.

  She opened her eyes. Judging by the amount of sunlight in the room, it was still early out, but later than she normally woke. She didn’t want to get up right now, but between the awesome smelling aroma in the air and her bladder shouting to be relieved, she didn’t have a choice.

  Throwing back the sheet, she climbed out of bed and made her way toward his bathroom. A short time later, she shuffled down the hallway, covered in the button down shirt he’d worn last night.

  When she made it into the kitchen, she leaned against the doorjamb and watched a shirtless Julian cook. She smiled at how comfortable he looked in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he called out without turning around.

  “Good morning.”

  “Are you going to stand over there or come over here and greet me properly?”

  She pushed away from the doorframe and ambled over to him. When she was within arm’s reach, he pulled her close. The second his mouth touched hers, images of last night flooded her brain. She clung to him, until he lifted his head, ending the kiss.

  “You are such a wonderful distraction,” he whispered, causing the corners of her mouth to curve upward. “Now go sit at the table so I don’t burn the breakfast I’m making you.”

  She went up on tip-toe and pressed another kiss against his mouth before obeying his request. A short time later, a plate with a fluffy omelet and toast was placed in front of her.

  “Would you like coffee or juice?” he asked.

  “Do you have milk?”

  “Yes.”

  He placed the cup of milk in front her a few moments later. When he sat down across from her, she experienced a moment of shyness. Never had she imagined she’d be sitting here like this with him. Now that she was she planned to enjoy it to the fullest.

  “Thank you for making breakfast,” she stated as she cut into the omelet with her fork.


  “You’re making it difficult for me to follow through with my plan,” he murmured.

  She looked up at him. “What plan?”

  “The one I have to go slowly, to seduce your mind before seducing your body again, are about to go by the wayside. When I’m with you I feel invincible. Then I don’t want to spend time doing things that are necessary, like eating food.”

  She looked down at her plate, then back up at him. “This can be reheated.”

  He stood and took the fork from Ottavia’s hand and dropped it onto the table. He pulled her to her feet and, wordlessly, he swept her up in his arms and turned toward the doorway.

  “I like the way you think. Breakfast can wait for a little while.” He cuddled her closer in his arms.

  “A little while?” Ottavia questioned, the fingers of her left hand tangling in the hair that curled at the base of his neck.

  “Yeah, just an hour or two. We have more important matters to take care of.”

  Oh my.

  Foreign emotions raced through her. Things were developing so much faster than she’d thought.

  Ottavia sighed when Julian laid her gently on his colossal king-sized bed amidst a jumble of strewn pillows. Why had she fought this as hard as she had?

  As soon as the question entered her mind, she knew the answer. Overhearing some of the stories from a few of the other women in town combined with the tales of his reputation over the years had just reminded her of how far out of her league he was. She’d been resistant thus far because she couldn’t fathom the idea of starting something with him, knowing at some point he would become uninterested and leave. Julian was definitely known to do so. She’d fought anything more than acknowledging her budding attraction to him as hard as she could because she was frightened.

  She was tired of running scared. Even though she knew there was a possibility she could get her heart broken, it felt as though it might be worth the risk.