Your Wish Is My Command

by Donna Kauffman

  And he'd thought he could not become any harder.

  “Your turn.” She nodded at his pants and smiled. “I'm being demure and demanding again.”

  “Uh-huh.” With a grin, he rose and unbuckled his own pants and let them fall to the floor. A small strangled sound from her brought his head up.

  “Is something amiss?” He held his arms out to the sides. “You find something not to your liking?”

  She propped herself up on her elbows. “At the risk of enlarging your … ego … I will baldly admit to spending some quality time fantasizing about you. However, I guess I'd never gotten around to wondering if you were a briefs or boxer man. But even if I had, I don't think I'd have ever figured on bikinis. Much less red ones. Is that what the fashionable pirate is wearing these days?”

  Now Sebastien felt that twinge of disconcertment she must have felt when he'd disrobed her. “You do not find them appealing?” He looked down and turned to either side.

  “Oh, they're … incredibly appealing. Amazingly so.”

  He grinned then, enjoying her sudden hard swallow. “I thought these were a grand discovery. Quite comfortable.”

  “And red.”

  “Maisoui. A bold color, don't you think? However, I do find them rather … limiting at the moment.”

  Jamie's gaze couldn't help but shift downward to observe the limitations he spoke of. “I, um, can see what you mean. As you said earlier, it's not what you wear on your skin that attracts me.”

  He grinned and knelt beside her on the bed, enjoying the widening of her eyes as he did so. He stretched out beside her. She trembled just slightly as he rested a hand on her abdomen then moved it up-ward to cup her breast. “And yet, there is an allure to that which has yet to be uncovered.”

  She reached for the center clasp of the bra, but he pushed her hands away. “No hurrying this.” He winked at her. “Sometimes a plunder is best done slowly.” He smoothed his hands over her body, enjoying the shuddering reaction he felt beneath his questing fingertips.

  “Slow plundering is good,” she said faintly. “I like slow plundering.”

  He opened his mouth to tease her in kind, but the words that came out were not lighthearted and carefree, but heartfelt and sincere. “Ah, Jamie, you are built more finely than the sleekest sailing vessel.” He smoothed his hand down her hips and over the length of her thighs. “Your lines are long and cleanly sculpted.” He shifted his flat palm up her other hip and across her belly until he once again cupped her breast.

  She only gulped in air, making her chest rise briefly beneath his touch. He teased his fingers along the edge of the brassiere, then moved his hand to her shoulder and slowly slid one strap off, then the other. Her breathing seemed to have all but stopped.

  “Never have I wanted so deeply, Jamie. Never has a discovery been so sweet.” He slid the front clasp open and lifted her brassiere from her skin. Now it was his fingers that trembled. Who could have predicted what the sight of her perfect, rosebud nipples would do to his equilibrium? “Such perfection,” he murmured.

  He dipped his head, first to her mouth, and took his time there, until he felt her begin to move insistently against his hand. Her lips were wet and full when he finally left them and journeyed downward to finally take one firm bud into his mouth. His body clenched tightly, almost painfully. He heard the groan fill histhroat and issue forth as he caressed her nipple with his tongue. So soft, so delectably sweet.

  He smoothed his fingertips over her other nipple, murmuring in French when she whimpered and arched more violently into him. “Mon coeur,” he whispered against her heated skin.

  She wove her fingers through his hair, pulling it free from its queue until the ends brushed across his bare shoulders and onto her skin. She tugged at his head, holding him to her. She writhed beneath him, searching for more. He drove her higher, faster. Her hips bucked off the bed. She cried out as he shifted his mouth from her nipple to her throat, then abruptly shoved at his shoulders, catching him off guard and sending him tumbling to his back.

  She took quick advantage of the situation and pushed him down, her hands pressed against his chest. “My turn,” she said, her breathing uneven.

  It took amazing restraint to keep from hauling her astride him and taking her right then and there. “I don't believe I was finished. Was I not being thorough enough?”

  She shook her head, her breathing gradually slowing. “You know exactly what you're doing.”

  “I told you I would not be rushed this night.”

  She smiled. “Which is exactly why I pushed you off me.”

  “Ah.”

  “I think it's only fair I have some plundering time of my own.”

  He grinned and shifted his hands until they rested on the bed above his head. “Be free with me, mademoiselle. I am at your tender mercy.”

  Her own smile had a touch of the wicked in it. “Be careful what you ask for. I'll have you know I've played this exact scenario out in my mind once or twice.”

  “Oh? And how does it end?”

  He thrilled to the hot blush that stole across her neck and across her cheeks. But she didn't look away, nor did her smile diminish. If anything, her shoulders squared a bit, her chin lifting as well. Yes, she would have done well onboard ship, his pirate queen.

  “As a certain Frenchman once told me,” she said, 'I'd rather show you than tell you.'

  “Please, then. I am all for being enlightened.”

  “First, I fear you're rather constricted here.”

  She slid her fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his bikini briefs. He inhaled sharply. His lapse of control only served to further build her confidence, which she made clear with a grin that was quite carnal. And yet there was a level of eroticism in submitting to her that he'd never before encountered.

  She carefully freed him and slid the briefs off. With a smile that could only be described as brazen, she tossed them over her shoulder.

  “Now whatever shall be done with me?” he asked, his tone as innocent a one as he could manage.

  “Do you fear for your safety?”

  He grinned again, unable to recall ever enjoying himself this much. He found himself wondering just how many days—and nights—he could keep her here. “I have no fear,” he replied. “However, I do feel at a slight disadvantage, being completely naked and at your somewhat-more-clothed mercy.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  He loved the gleam in her eyes. “Oui. I believe that it was.”

  She sighed a little and said, “I wonder how many women you seduce with your accent alone. You could make a fortune in the phone-sex industry.”

  “Phone sex?”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Some other time.”

  He winked at her. “I will not forget.”

  “No, I don't believe I'll let you either.”

  Perhaps it was the playful gleam in her eyes or that he'd never felt so thoroughly satisfied with life, but he could wait no longer. Sebastien reached for her and pulled her, laughing, down to him, so that she lay half across his chest. He grew serious and, slowly, so did she. He felt her heart pound against his own. “Truly, you are like no other woman, Jamie mon amour.” He rolled her to her back and leaned in to take her mouth.

  He kissed her deeply, until both their bodies writhed and shone with sweat. She arched beneath him every time he plunged his tongue inside her mouth, and he could torture neither her nor himself any longer.

  “If you wish protection, retrieve it now. I want to feel you wrapped tightly around me, Jamie. And I want to see it in your eyes as I claim you this first time.”

  She surprised him again by reaching between them and taking his rigid length in her hand. “And I want to see your eyes as you enter me. Every time.”

  He almost spilled himself into her palm right then. He took her mouth again in a kiss that could only be termed ravishment. “Find them, Jamie,” he said, his voice raspy and thick, then kissed her neck
and once again found himself tasting her sweet, engorged nipples. “Cover me. Now.”

  She groped behind her, holding his head to her with her other hand. He heard the rustling of something, then her swearing. He lifted his head in time to see her tear the small pouch open with her teeth.

  He grinned wide. “I love a woman with ingenuity.”

  She only pushed at his shoulders. “Here. I don't think I can do this. My fingers are shaking too badly.” Her laugh was a bit shaky as well. “Damn, I have never been like this. It's worse than the very first time.”

  He slid the slippery latex from her hand and finally worked it on, his own hands trembling like they never had before. He pulled her beneath him and felt his own breath hitch when the tip of him brushed her thigh. “This is our first time. And that makes it perfect.” He pulled her thighs up over his hips, then cradled her head in his palms and looked into her eyes. “You asked to watch me.” He leaned in and kissed her, then shifted back just enough for them to look eye to eye. “Watch me now.”

  She gasped, but it was in obvious pleasure, as he pushed the very tip of himself inside her. He groaned deep within his throat. His hands and arms began to shake under the effort of maintaining a slow pace.

  “Deeper, Sebastien,” she demanded, her own voice more ragged than he'd ever heard it. “I want all of you.” She reached for his shoulders and lifted her hips as those strong legs folded around his waist. “Now. Fill me up.”

  She pulled him another torturous inch inside her. He found a smile, even as he groaned anew. “Perhaps,” he ground out, “if I make love to you often enough, we'll eventually follow my plan.”

  She tugged him in deeper. “What plan?” she grunted, then moaned and arched beneath him as he moved just slightly deeper.

  “To … go … slow.” And with that he let out a long, hoarse groan and pushed fully inside her.

  There was nothing slow after that.

  She would hardly let him retreat before bringing her hips up to force his next thrust. He met her pace and matched it easily. The bed, large and heavy as it was, rocked beneath them. Everything thundered. Perfectly matched, they moved together as if their bodies had been joined for centuries, just like this. Her head arched back and her eyes slid shut, as did his own.

  He felt her tighten and begin to convulse against him, just as he, too, felt the sudden rush of completion surge within. He forced his head forward. “Jamie,” he said on a rasp. “Mon amour.” She opened her eyes just as he leaned into her and thrust fully inside. “It is now that I make you mine.”

  She climaxed around him, clenching so tightly that he came instantly, almost violently.

  He barely held himself from collapsing on top of her. She kissed his damp neck and pulled him down on her anyway, bearing his weight almost needfully. She stroked his back, his shoulders, his hair, the side of his face. As if she couldn't bear to not be touching him even as he was still fully inside her.

  Her actions made him feel … necessary. An odd choice, but exact in describing his emotion. Necessary. It was a first for him. And astonishing in the power it wielded.

  “Sebastien.”

  It was barely a murmur but so steeped with contentment he thought his heart would fill to bursting with what it made him feel. Like a confirmation. He nuzzled the sweet skin beneath her ear as their labored breathing finally slowed, their heated bodies began to cool.

  He had only one thought as he worked his way slowly to her mouth and kissed her deeply, sweetly, almost reverently.

  He wanted her always.

  If only there was some way to keep her.

  Chapter 19

  Jamie fought for the last vestiges of slumber as they left her. She struggled to stay in her dream world, stay in the hot, decadent dreams that had filled her night. She arched and stretched her body fully. God, her dreams had been so realistic that her body even had twinges of soreness, as if she really had spent the night with Sebastien buried inside—

  Reality came rushing in. It hadn't been a dream. She'd really—

  Jamie opened her eyes to find Sebastien beside her, propped on one elbow, watching her.

  She said the first thing that occurred to her. “I have bed hair, right?” Then she blushed. Great, and so smooth too.

  His smile was slow and devilish. “My woman should always appear in such satiated dishabille when the sun arises.”

  My woman. Her throat went dry. Dear Lord, what had she done? She should open her mouth this instant and lay down ground rules, explain that if they were going to continue this … this … dear God, this heavenly pleasure. Oh, what the hell, who was she kidding? Right at that moment she was totally and completely his and perfectly satisfied with that arrangement.

  “Has the sun come up already?” she managed. She turned to find that it had arisen indeed—some time ago, from the looks of things. “Oh, no!” She grabbed at the sheet, intent on yanking it off, but a heavy hand on her stomach kept it pinned firmly in place. “I have to go to work.”

  He tugged her gently back into the bed. “Non. You are free for the day, this whole beautiful day.

  She rolled to her back and stared up into his face. His amazingly beautiful face. And she made a decision right then and there: All her reasons for not wanting to end up in the very place she was right now, feeling all the things she was feeling, were banished. In exile. To be dealt with at some later time—preferably never.

  And this was way better than dreaming.

  “What do you mean, I'm free?”

  “I awoke some time ago and after contemplating you as you slept, I've decided that I'm keeping you.”

  Jamie's heart felt as if it had burst wide open. Dangerous, she knew. But she sent those fears into exile as well. “And what if I don't want to be a kept woman?” As if she had a hope in hell of pulling off that lie.

  “I considered that.”

  She smiled now. “Did you really? Unsure of your charms all of a sudden?”

  His grin was decidedly wicked. “Hardly.”

  She laughed. “Okay, now I know I'm not dreaming.” She couldn't have dreamed something this perfect.

  He traced a finger along her cheekbone and looked at her with such … She couldn't bring herself to form the word, even in her mind.

  “Why am I not working today?” she managed finally, through a throat suddenly tight with emotion.

  “I called Jack,” he said idly, still stroking her skin, pushing her hair from her face. “He agreed to coverfor you today. I hope you do not mind my interference.

  Mind? If it wasn't for the heavenly feel of his touch on her skin she'd have gotten up and done a victory dance right there on the bed. But no sense in giving him too much of an edge. “Um, no. I suppose that's okay.” Her nonchalance was totally ruined a moment later by the wide, satisfied grin that split her face.

  “Thank you.”

  He grinned then too, and she squealed in surprise when he suddenly rolled to his back and tugged her on top of him. She straddled him easily, her body already naturally aligned to his after just one night. “How could things be this perfect?”

  It wasn't until he answered her that she realized she'd spoken out loud. “I'm uncertain of this myself. Perhaps all the stars in the night sky managed to find the perfect alignment. I do not question these things.” She squealed again when he rolled her beneath him. “Especially when they work in my favor.”

  Jamie laughed, then moaned as she felt him insistently pushing against her thighs. Her hips shifted automatically, seeking once again what he had so generously proved he could give.

  “Let me have you once more this morning, Jamie amour.”

  “Only once?” She didn't even care how pathetically needy that sounded.

  Especially when he laughed and said, “Greedy wench. I think you're my perfect match.” He nudged inside her, prompting her to agree with him. Wholeheartedly.

  “I cannot ever imagine a time when once will be enough,” he murmured into her ear. “I hav
e plans for us today, but I find I cannot leave this bed without once again feeling your body tighten around mine.”

  Plans. Jamie wanted to ask him what plans, but then he was inside her, and all she could think was that a lifetime of this would not be enough.

  “Sailing? Like, on a boat? With sails?”

  Sebastien laughed as he held the car door open for her. They had enjoyed their walk back to the store. “I believe that is why they call them sailboats, mademoiselle.”

  The sun was high above the horizon now, but the breeze was light and the temperature perfect. He could not recall a moment when he had been happier or more content. He had thought that moment had come only when he was deep inside Jamie and newly spent. But he was discovering that this contentment had little to do with physical appeasement. His soul was appeased just having her with him, her sunny smile aimed in his direction, her quick wit matching his so effortlessly, her—

  “I don't sail, Sebastien.”

  He laughed. Her sharp tongue, never too shy to tell him her thoughts. Yes, he loved even that.

  “Ah, mon amour, and I am about to correct that sad state of affairs.”

  “I'm perfectly happy with that sad state of affairs.”

  Sebastien merely stood with his hand on the open door. Jamie grumbled, but she climbed into the driver's seat. He closed the door behind her. Even the prospect of folding his body into this small car and allowing her to propel them headlong down a crowded roadway did nothing to dampen his spirits.

  She said nothing for several long minutes, then finally he heard the low sigh. He smiled and relaxed. “It won't be so bad as all that. I promise.”

  “I didn't see anything wrong with what we were already doing today,” she mumbled.

  “Ma chère, have you ever made love on the deck of a sailing ship, the water rocking beneath you?

  Jamie took another corner at a speed that had him grabbing for the dashboard. But it was the wicked smile she aimed his way that had his heart rate spiking.

  “Maybe sailing does have one or two things to recommend it, after all.”

  Sebastien laughed and settled back in his seat. As much as he could, anyway. “I do not understand why you choose a conveyance of such narrow parameters.”