The Varlet and the Voyeur

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The Varlet and the Voyeur Page 27

by L.H. Cosway


  I opened my eyes on a gasp. I was going to come and he’d barely even gotten started. Will’s gaze held mine as he paused his teasing of my clit to plunge two fingers inside me. I was so, so wet, and my spine arched again, needing more, welcoming whatever he wanted to give.

  “Will, I…” A moan cut off my words as his fingers sped up.

  “Josey,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful when you’re about to come. Your eyes captivate me.”

  His fingers returned to my clit, and I was a hair trigger. I came swiftly, my body clenching, my heart hammering as he gazed at me with a love I couldn’t believe he felt for me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. There was no mistaking his feelings now.

  “I love you!” I burst, as the tremors of my orgasm swept through me.

  Will blinked, seemed to hold his breath, then a look of pure adoration claimed his features. He caressed my face with his free hand, his voice reverent when he replied, “And I love you. I’ve never loved anyone until you, Josey.”

  A glowing feeling filled me up. It was sheer contentment and happiness, a sense of finally finding the person I didn’t even realize I’d been searching for. Will accepted me in a way I’d never felt before. Sure, my parents and Eilish loved me, but Will was the other part of my heart, the missing piece in my soul. He was a silly, silly man for not being honest with me sooner, but I understood his reasons.

  His fears.

  I had my fair share of them, too.

  “Where are you?” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

  “Sorry. I just…I really do love you,” I said again. It felt liberating to say the words I’d kept secret, incredibly freeing to be able to feel my emotions instead of pushing them down. It had killed me to be around Will and not acknowledge the fact that he meant everything to me.

  “And I love you, I love you.” He bent to give my jaw a little nip. “Now I’m going to fuck you.”

  I shivered. Will grazed his teeth along my lower lip, then reached over to open his bedside drawer. I watched as he retrieved a pair of fur-lined silver handcuffs.

  What the…

  “Where did you get those?”

  He studied them a second, then threw them on the pillow as he grabbed my wrists and lifted them to the headboard. “I bought them for the Australia trip and forgot to pack them.”

  My eyes grew wide. Anticipation knocked me upside the head with a hammer; I felt dizzy. “You did?”

  He held my arms in place, then plucked up the handcuffs and snapped them around my wrists. I swallowed thickly as he studied his handiwork, a pleased look on his face. His eyes darkened when they met mine.

  “There. Open your legs.”

  I did as I was told. Will proceeded to divest me of my clothes, first my shoes, then my skirt and knickers. By the time he unbuttoned my shirt he realized his error. He couldn’t get it off without undoing the handcuffs.

  I didn’t want him to undo them.

  Neither did he, it seemed, because instead he merely pushed it open, unwrapping me, and then pulled down the cups of my bra to reveal my breasts. He leaned down, his warm breath giving me tingles as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive tip, and even though I’d just come my body cried out for more.

  “Will,” I moaned, and his gaze flicked to me. He never looked sexier. With his mouth still on my breast, he started to undo his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, then, without a word he pushed inside me. My body welcomed him eagerly. His mouth left my breast to take my lips in another mind-melting kiss. With my arms above my head, I had no ability to touch him, to hold on, to caress him in return.

  Which was fine by me. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted.

  He thrust inside me, hips jutting in and out, as he kissed me into oblivion. With his cock inside me and his tongue in my mouth, I felt like I might come a second time.

  “I fucking love kissing you,” he rasped, and then he was on me again. He was punishing, his strong, sport-honed body unforgiving, as he murmured sweet, sexy words in my ear and worked me to the heights of ecstasy.

  When he rose up, eyes on my bound wrists before they swept across my face, breasts, and stomach, I was fit to burst from the love I saw reflected in his eyes. My lips were sore from all his kisses. He kept up a steady pace as he reached down and found my clit.

  I was so, so ready to come again.

  “Wait for me,” he said, breathless, and I instantly got his meaning. He wanted us to come together.

  It was so hard to hold out, but when I felt his thrusts slow, I knew he was close.

  “Kiss me, please,” I begged.

  Something inside of him snapped. He leaned down, still fingering my clit, still fucking me, and claimed my mouth. A second later, I felt him fill me.

  Maybe he was a good multitasker after all.

  I came with a sharp cry that Will swallowed with his kiss. He fell on top of me, his hot body glistening with sweat. He kissed my breasts, trailed his mouth up to my neck, then nuzzled and sucked as we both floated down from our high. I closed my eyes, drifting off a little when I felt him fiddle with the handcuffs. He unlocked them, massaging my wrists and kissing the reddened skin. I didn’t even realize I’d been straining, but allowing him complete control like that had been incredible. We’d experimented a little in Australia, but nothing like this.

  “I’m going to run us a bath,” he said lovingly, then got up. He was still partially dressed, so he took off the rest of his clothes before he walked to the bathroom. I admired the sight of his muscular backside, grinning to myself.

  A minute later, I heard water running and I sighed at the idea of a nice, long soak. The bath here in Will’s apartment was much bigger than the one in our hotel in Sydney. When the water shut off, Will returned, stripped off my shirt and bra, lifted me from the bed, and carried me to the bathroom where a delectable bubble bath was waiting.

  “Have I mentioned yet that I love you?” I said. His deep chuckle rumbled through me as he lowered me into the tub, then crawled in behind me. He pulled me between his sturdy thighs and wrapped his arms around me. His hand cupped my breast and I softly gasped, both at the perfect temperature of the water and the way he plucked my nipple between his fingers.

  I moaned and felt his cock stiffen behind me once more.

  Relaxing against him, I rested my head on his chest and he kissed my hair. He made a quiet sound of happiness and I closed my eyes. I thought of all the things he’d been through since the story broke, all the anger and hurt and frustration he must’ve felt. He’d been ridiculed by the public, asked to step away from his charity work, and forced to make great efforts to clean up his image. In a way it was ridiculous, because Will was more honest, more respectable than most. He might’ve been a voyeur, but in the most moral way possible. He had real values that he believed in, rules he stuck to. Or at least tried to stick to, until I came along.

  I had to admit, I quite liked being the person he broke his ironclad rules for.

  “I can’t believe Aideen was behind all the stories about you,” I whispered, stroking my hand along his arm. Will let out a long sigh.

  “Let’s not talk about her. . . ever. There’s nothing I can do to change what she did. I just have to try my best to move on from it.”

  “Don’t you feel angry?”

  “How can I be angry when this mess brought you to me?”

  Oh man.

  He was good.

  I endeavored not to die of swooning, and instead focused on the issue at hand. “I mean, aren’t you angry with her? How long did you work with The Dream Foundation?”

  He seemed to hesitate, then admitted, “About five years.”

  “That’s a big investment. It’s okay to be angry about what you’ve lost.”

  “I’m trying not to let it cloud my judgment. Anger causes us to become irrational and make bad decisions. I don’t plan on making any more of them.”

  I arch
ed a brow. “Only good ones?”

  His big hand spread out on my belly. “Yes,” he murmured. “Starting with you, Josey.”

  “Starting with me?”

  “I don’t want anything between us. I want you”—his arms tightened around me—“I need you.”

  My heart shimmered inside my chest. I was sure if they opened me up they’d see it glittering. That was how Will made me feel.

  Like a unicorn cupcake dipped in edible glitter covered in chocolate sprinkles.

  I turned a little and tipped my head up to kiss his chin. “Back at ya, homey.”

  “Homey?”

  “Yep. You’re my big Okla-homey.”

  “Josey.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re my favorite person, but maybe never call me that in front of the team, okay?”

  I laughed and made sure he saw my wink. “Sure thing. Only in bed. I got you.”

  He pursed his lips, fighting a smile. “Not in bed either. Actually, never call me that anywhere.”

  “Whatever. You love it.”

  His hand wandered between my thighs, cupping me gently. “I love this,” he whispered.

  My voice grew husky. “What else do you love?”

  His hand moved to my breasts, caressing them under the water. “These.” It wandered up to my lips, his middle finger dipping inside my mouth. “And this.” I closed my eyes when his fingertips trailed across my eyelids. “But most of all these.”

  “Will.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Make love to me again.”

  He made a low grunt.

  However, we both must’ve had our eyes closed because we didn’t see Rocky nudge the bathroom door open. And Will didn’t get a chance to answer because a second later there was a loud splash of water and I let out a high-pitched squeal.

  “Oh my goodness, get out!” I yelled as I opened my eyes and saw Rocky had decided to hop into the bath. Will’s chuckle started low, then transformed into a deep belly laugh as my dog wore a delighted, happy smile, tongue hanging out and everything. He clearly thought getting into the bath with us was a marvelous idea. I stood up, grabbed my dog and marched through the apartment to put him in his crate.

  “Bad dog,” I said, unable to help my laugh. I was dripping wet and stark naked, not having had the forethought to grab a towel. Rocky didn’t look one bit chagrined, in fact, he had a wad of suds atop his head that made him look ridiculously adorable. I was too busy laughing to sound stern. I shook my head and returned to the bathroom where Will was now in hysterics.

  I reached down and splashed him with some water.

  “Our dog has the worst timing in the world,” he managed to say through his laughter.

  I grinned wide. “Yes, yes he does.”

  “But he’s the best.”

  My expression softened. “Yes, he is.”

  Will let out a sigh. “I guess our bath’s ruined.”

  “Well, there is a silver lining.”

  “Oh?”

  “We get to go back to bed and have more amazing sex. And this time I’ll be using the handcuffs,” I replied, and shot him a saucy smile. Will’s expression transformed into one of carnal anticipation.

  “In that case, I’m your willing participant. Also, you do realize that’s the first time you haven’t whispered the word sex around me?”

  I placed a hand on my hip, thought on it, then smiled. “Do you know what? I think you’re right. Yippee! Look at me, sex, sex, sex, sexy, sexified sex,” I joked.

  Will climbed out of the bathtub, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my body while I sing-songed variations of the word sex.

  Without warning, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me back to his bedroom.

  If this was how things would be with William Moore, then I was more than willing to sign up for a lifetime.

  Twenty-Two

  @WillthebrickhouseMoore to @JoseyInHeels: What do you want for dinner tonight? I’m stopping by Listons.

  @JoseyInHeels to @WillthebrickhouseMoore: Chocolate syrup and honey, and whipped cream.

  @WillthebrickhouseMoore to @JoseyInHeels: You are so fucking awesome.

  WILL

  I awoke sometime before dawn, startled to find a warm, soft body curled against mine. But then I remembered. Euphoric contentment flooded my chest and I exhaled quietly, part in relief, part in wonder.

  Josey.

  Light filtered through the door of my room from the hallway, illuminating her in a swath of pale gray, desaturating the colors of her captivating face. She looked like a black and white photo, timeless, classic perfection.

  Something in me shifted, two heavy weights clicking into place. This was where I wanted to be. The rest of my life, I never wanted us to be separated.

  Maybe for a day, maximum.

  Like, twelve hours tops.

  On the weekends, less than that. Three hours at most, but usually only one hour or less, and only if necessary.

  The weight seemed to grow, increase in volume and mass, cusping the base of my throat. I swallowed against the sharp ache. For some reason, I reminded myself that Josey loved me. She wasn’t leaving, she was here to stay.

  . . . But for how long?

  A sudden urge to wake her and ask caught me by surprise. I shook myself, blaming the impulse on sleep inertia, and laughed quietly at the temporary insanity. Returning my head to the pillow, I pulled her closer and she turned in her sleep, giving me her back and pressing her bottom against my front.

  But my chest was still tight, and my throat still ached, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  How long?

  I tried to breath normally. I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter that my common sense told me the question was premature, that we’d just admitted our mutual feelings mere hours ago, that there were so many other pressing questions—namely, was Josey still my employee? Or . . . what was the plan there?—uncertainty clawed.

  However, unlike our time together in Australia, the uncertainty was not accompanied by dread. Anticipation and a need to have things settled, defined, clear—yes. But definitely not dread.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, wrestling this need, but sometime after daybreak Josey stirred with a little sigh.

  Slowly, I lifted my head, propping it on my palm, my elbow resting on the pillow behind her, and took several moments to appreciate the beauty of Josey in the yellow and golden sunbeams of a new day.

  So beautiful.

  My chest constricted, and I decided I could deal with my need for structure later. I wanted to take advantage of right now.

  I slid my palm from her shoulder, down the curve of her side to her hip, pushing the covers lower as I exposed the luscious expanse of bare skin for my eyes. She should always sleep naked, I decided. I moved my hand between her legs as though to prove the practicality of this decision. Lifting her leg gently, I shifted it back and sifted through her soft curls to find the slick center of her.

  She sighed again.

  I smiled, watching her face, the way her brows moved up and then down, making me wonder if she was incorporating this—my touching her—into a dream. Eventually, though I thoroughly enjoyed the watching, I bent my lips to her neck and placed a licking, biting kiss just under her ear.

  She groaned, turning towards me and onto her back, but her eyes remained shut.

  Hmm.

  I bit then kissed her shoulder, collarbone, and breast. Josey arched her back just slightly and made a sweet and short humming sound. She didn’t open her eyes.

  “Josey?” I leaned further over her, placing a knee between her open legs, sliding my hand up to her hip, stomach, and breast.

  Lifting her hands, she settled them lightly on my back, murmuring something incoherent. Pressing forward, stroking her sex with the length of mine, I took her lips.

  She shivered, opening her mouth instantly, and I was surprised to find she tasted like mint. Specificall
y, toothpaste.

  I leaned away, squinting at her still closed eyes. “Did you. . . when did you brush your teeth?”

  She opened one eye. “What?” she asked breathlessly.

  I was over her now, our bodies touching almost everywhere. “You brushed your teeth. When did you do that? I’ve been up for at least an hour.”

  Josey scrunched her face, hesitating, and then said in a sleep-roughened voice, “Would you believe I always have minty breath in the morning?”

  I laughed, shaking my head and lowering my lips to her neck. “I guess I’ll be back after I brush my teeth.”

  Her fingers dug into my back. “Don’t go. You have perfect morning breath, you taste like heaven.” She arched beneath me, curling a leg around one of mine, which caused her thighs to widen. “Stay here.” She placed a light kiss on my neck, but then returned to the same spot and sucked my skin into her mouth.

  She’d found the spot that had me going stiff and painfully hard in seconds. “Josey.” I struggled to say the single word.

  “Fuck me, please,” she whispered, rolling her willing pelvis against my erection, her hands grabbing my back and sides and torso.

  Her words lit a flame and her roving hands fanned it. Yet, I resisted.

  Reaching for her wrists, I pulled Josey’s grasping hands away from my body, tangling our fingers together and holding them in place on either side of her face. I pushed myself up. She chased my mouth and I gave into her with slow kisses. She sought to quicken them. I also gave in with measured pressure against her slick and eager pussy. She sought rough strokes and invasion.

  “Will.” Her voice was strained, frustrated, as her gaze captured mine. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  I slid my cock against her entrance. Her breath hitched. I pulled away. She whimpered.

  “Are you trying to torture me?” Josey shifted restlessly, clearly attempting an irritated glare. Instead, she just looked damn sexy.

  I shook my head, rubbing our noses together softly. “No. I’m trying to make love to you.”

  She groaned.

  “Slowly,” I added.

 

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