Little Red Writing

by Lila DiPasqua

  Her heart was on those pages. But her heart had changed. She didn’t believe in love anymore. It was absurd that the notion continued to bother him but he couldn’t shake it. A heart that had had such depth had closed itself off. It was a shame.

  Worse, rereading her work, knowing now that she’d had some intimate experience with men, had stirred up suspicions he’d spent most of the day trying to mute. He refused to believe Anne was Leduc without definitive proof.

  Entertaining thoughts of his mission only aggravated that annoying emotion in his gut that wouldn’t go away. He had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. He was not the guilty party here—and yet he was left wrestling with that very emotion that directly clashed with his longing for her.

  Nicolas reached Anne’s door.

  In short, he’d been in turmoil when he’d walked into the Salle de Buffet for supper, and he was in turmoil now.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  On the other side of this door is an alluring woman no man would refuse to bed. She’s waiting for you, warm and willing. Knock on the bloody door!

  He rapped on the door lightly.

  It flew open and he was yanked inside. The door slammed shut. Shoved hard, his back slammed against it. Nicolas grunted. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light in the room.

  Anne stood before him, hair down in long fiery-colored curls, wearing nothing but her chemise, her palms pressing against his chest.

  He feasted on the sight of her. He had to remember to breathe. Jésus-Christ, she looked incredible.

  She frowned. “What took you so long?”

  He swallowed before he could summon his voice. “I—”

  She shot to the balls of her feet, crushed her warm mouth against his, and thrust her tongue between his lips, and he forgot what he was going to say. Her taste was inebriating. He felt an instant hot rush through his veins.

  She stroked his tongue with zealous swirls and mind-bending sucks, kissing him with magnificent intensity. He hauled her up against him, his cock pulsing between them, and trailed his hands down her back, returning her famished kiss with equal hunger. He couldn’t seem to get enough. Not of this woman. Skimming his fingers up under her short chemise, he was stunned to find his hands on her pert—and very bare—derrière. Dieu, she wasn’t wearing any caleçons.

  She pulled away abruptly.

  He reached out to drag her back, but she shook her head.

  “Take this off.” She was already pulling off his justacorps, her breaths as rapid and rough as his own.

  Nicolas shrugged the knee-length jacket off his shoulders. Before the garment even hit the floor, her hands were tugging at the fastenings on his breeches, trying to open them.

  He loved it when a woman got straight to the point.

  Her fingers fumbled. He brushed them aside and opened his breeches in haste.

  She pulled his shirttails out. He yanked his shirt off and discarded it.

  Anne froze, her gaze slowly moving over his chest, down to his aching erection now straining out of his breeches. He was so hard, his cock felt as heavy as lead.

  “You are more beautiful than any man has the right to be,” she breathed.

  Before he could respond to her endearing comment, her soft fingers wrapped around his erection and slowly pumped his prick. His words were lost in his groan. He closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the door, basking in the sensations radiating along his cock with each stroke of her hand.

  Her other hand slipped inside his open breeches and cradled his sac, gently caressing him. “I want to pleasure you, Nicolas.”

  Oh, she was going to pleasure him, all right. Satiate him fully. He’d see to it. Then finally, finally this lust that had invaded his mind and was torturing his body would dissipate. He’d at last have it under control and be able to think clearly once more.

  Suddenly, her hands were gone. His eyes flew open, dazed, his body rioting for more. He found her kneeling before him, the candlelight in the room giving her bright beautiful hair a bedazzling glow.

  She grasped the base of his shaft and licked her lips.

  Essence oozed from the tip of his eager cock as thoughts of feeding his length into her mouth burned in his mind.

  Nicolas delved his fingers into her hair. This was not what he’d intended when he first walked in. Thanks to her parting words in the library, all he’d thought of the rest of the day was being inside her juicy core, riding her hard. But the famished look in her eyes and the lure of that hot wet mouth were … irresistible.

  He brought his prick closer to her moist lips. “Are you hungry for my cock, Anne?”

  Anne squeezed her knees together, trying to find relief from the throbbing ache between her legs. Yes, she was hungry for it! She was ravenous for him. Seeing how aroused she made him had her on fire and filled her with an exhilarating sense of power. She wanted him in her mouth. She wanted him filling her sex with that thick glorious part of his male anatomy.

  Undaunted by his size and her limited experience, she said firmly, “Yes. Tonight, it’s all mine to pleasure.” She should have been shocked by her words, her brazen behavior, but wasn’t. It thrilled her to see his eyes darken and feel his shaft twitch in her hand.

  He brought out a side of her she never knew existed. She had no idea how he drew it out of her—so effortlessly, when no one else ever had—but she was grateful for the remarkable revelation.

  “We’re not stopping at tonight,” he wickedly promised. “We’re going to have at each other until we’re both sated.”

  His words sent a hot shiver through her body. Briefly, she wondered how long it would take to satisfy the hunger she had for this man.

  “Tell me if this pleases you.” She swirled her tongue around the engorged tip of his shaft. He grunted sharply. Hiding her smile, she moistened her lips, then closed them over the crest of his sex. His breath hissed out through clenched teeth, his reaction causing her nipples to tighten and her core to cream. The sudden surge of desire made her light-headed.

  “Take more,” he growled.

  His feral state was an aphrodisiac. She slid him farther into the wet heat of her mouth, drew him out, then plunged him back in deeper still, growing more and more emboldened and sure of her actions. His hips jerked.

  He swore softly. His control snapped. Rearing back, he pushed back in, her mouth widening to accommodate him. He began to thrust. She matched his rhythm, her tongue caressing the underside of his penis with each rhythmic stroke as she sucked and sucked and sucked on him. The taste of his surrender was sweet. A moan, a sound of pure pleasure, escaped her throat and drew a hearty groan from him.

  Anne slid her hands inside his breeches to grip his buttocks, his muscles tightening under her fingers. She held on to him, listening to his ragged breaths, keeping to the pace he desired.

  He slowed his movements.

  “Anne … I’m going to come … hard … in your mouth. If you don’t want that, you’ve got to stop now.” He stopped thrusting, his body straining with effort.

  Her heart pounding, she responded by tightening her hold and drawing him in and out of her mouth, hard and fast, refusing to stop. He stiffened, his head falling back against the door. A guttural sound erupted out of him as spurt after spurt of come shot into her mouth and down her throat. She drank him in, digging her nails into him, wanting all he had, taking everything he gave, until his fingers loosened in her hair, his body relaxed, and she’d taken his last drop.

  Slouched against the door, his breaths were short and shallow, his muscled chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Drawing his sex from her mouth, Anne rose on shaky limbs, reeling, licking a small drop of his essence from her bottom lip. His eyes were closed, and on his handsome face was the undeniable expression of rapture.

  She’d done that to him. Joy filled every empty chamber in her heart. Making him desperate for her had been, as he’d said, a “heady rush.”

 
; He opened his eyes, his usual knee-weakening half-smile forming on his lips the moment he met her gaze.

  Nicolas pulled her to him. He was amazed at the transformation in her and delighted in it. No longer hiding behind a façade—the cool erudite author—she’d embraced the passion that was so much a part of her.

  And dear God, there was such perfect passion between them.

  She laced her arms around his neck, a grin on her face despite the carnal need he saw in her eyes.

  “You liked that,” she stated, looking adorably pleased with herself.

  That was an understatement. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d come that hard. At least now, the edge had been taken off his lust.

  “Really? What makes you think so?” he teased, unable to keep the mirth from his tone.

  She snuggled closer, her soft bottom giving a sweet little wiggle. “I suppose it’s just a guess,” she teased back.

  He chuckled. She felt so good in his arms.

  She caressed his cheek, her smile fading. “Thank you, Nicolas.”

  He furrowed his brow. “For what?”

  “For showing me that there is more to physical intimacies between men and women than I ever knew. In fact, I never would have believed it had I not enjoyed it firsthand. What we’ve done today is a first for me. I’d heard of such acts, but never experienced them. I’m glad I shared them with you.”

  Her words were touching, and he cautioned himself against having any more tender emotions where she was concerned.

  He should take advantage of her amenable mood and draw information out of her. But he didn’t want to ask questions related to Leduc. Or her past lovers. Not now. He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the way her silky hair felt against his face. He didn’t want to spoil this moment and found himself wishing that there wasn’t anything more complicated between them than their desire for each other. “There is still more to experience,” he murmured. “Show me where the bed is.”

  He felt her shiver of excitement before she stepped back and took his hand. The chemise hid little from his view. Her nipples were pebbled and her shapely thighs were bare, looking satiny smooth. His semihard cock thickened.

  He couldn’t wait to nestle between those soft thighs, feel them wrapped around him.

  They entered her bedchamber of soft pinks and light greens. She climbed onto the bed and was sitting on her heels in the middle, waiting for him, looking so lush.

  At the foot of the bed, Nicolas began discarding the remainder of his clothing. Her lovely eyes moved over him, stopping on his cock. He loved the way she looked at him, with such hot need. How will she look at you when she learns what you’ve been up to? He abruptly arrested the errant thought.

  Her delicate brows rose slightly. “You’re already … uh …” Her voice trailed off. She was unbalanced and endearingly flustered again, her nervous excitement, tangible. Accustomed to women with a more casual attitude toward carnal encounters, he found her refreshingly different.

  She is different. You’ll likely be arresting one of her sisters soon. How often have you done that to a woman you’ve bedded? Nicolas cursed the mental distractions. That was later. The future was in the future. This was now. And at this moment, all he wanted was to be with this one incredibly sensuous, bright, beautiful woman.

  “I’ve been hard for you for two days. One orgasm isn’t going to be enough—even an orgasm by such a talented mouth.” Nicolas tossed the last of his apparel onto the floor. “Come here,” he ordered, sinking his knees one at a time on the bed.

  Her nipples were driving him mad. They strained for him against the soft material of her chemise, and he was going to give them all the carnal attention those luscious peaks deserved.

  She moved close. He slipped her chemise off. Her arms were just about to circle his neck when he caught her wrists and held her arms apart.

  He let his eyes drink her in, taking in every appealing curve of her body and the pretty auburn curls covering her sex, already moist from her juices.

  He met her gaze, and realized she was watching him closely for his reaction. He wanted her to have no doubts as to what he thought. “You’re breathtaking.”

  She looked a little embarrassed but mostly pleased by his comment. “So are you.”

  Dieu, she was sweet—and disquieting. His thoughts were far too jumbled and soft for his liking, and he decided to blame them on his yet unsatisfied appetite for the ravishing poetess.

  She pressed her warm mouth to his and kissed him. Nicolas released her wrists and pulled her tightly against him, squeezing his cock between them. He groaned.

  Finally he was going to bed her and end his obsession to have her.

  Suddenly, she pushed away, taking him by surprise. His eyes snapped open.

  “I have something I need to tell you about myself.” Her hand was against his chest, staving him off. He didn’t like the earnest expression on her face. “I want to be honest with you.”

  His stomach dropped. No! Given the timing, that was the very last thing he wanted from her. Whatever she was about to say, he had a feeling he didn’t want to hear it.

  Nicolas clasped her wrist and gently removed her hand from his chest. Slipping his other hand onto the nape of her neck, he pulled her closer, bringing her mouth to his. “Later. Not now,” he murmured against her lips. “No confessions during sex. Just mutual pleasure.”

  “I am not a virgin,” she blurted out.

  He jerked his head up. Merde.

  “I’m not sure if you’ve guessed it or not, but I wanted to tell you just the same.”

  “Fine. Good. It doesn’t matter.” But the voice inside him screamed otherwise, more suspicions about Leduc rushing through his mind. He crushed his mouth to hers, desperate to drown them out with a fresh wave of lust.

  She cupped his face between her soft hands and pulled away again, her breathing as quickened as his own. “There’s been only one other man, and he never bestowed the pleasure you have. I wanted you to know the truth.” Then, she was back to kissing him, trailing hot wet kisses along his neck.

  Nicolas closed his eyes. And even though his prick was as stiff as wood and his body achingly aroused once more, his mind balked. Fuck. Not now! He wanted carnal gratification. He wanted her. Not thoughts about the man she’d been with and what that may mean. Not thoughts about what he’d have to do if she turned out to be Leduc. Or how she’d react if instead he had to bring one of her beloved sisters before the King.

  And especially—most especially—not the guilt over his lies.

  He wanted to lose himself in the sweet sensations of her mouth, her touch. He took her hand and brought it to his cock. Her fingers immediately curled around him and gave a little squeeze. The sound of bliss escaped his lips. But as hot pleasure rippled through him, his mind refused to quiet, growing more insistent. Getting louder. And louder.

  The next thing he knew, he was staring at her surprised expression; his hands were on her shoulders—and to his astonishment—he was holding her at arm’s length.

  Jésus-Christ, he’d just pushed her away.

  “I need a moment,” he tossed out, climbed off the bed, marched into the antechamber, and closed the doors.

  Chapter Eight

  In the antechamber, fire crackled in the hearth, the sound mingling with Nicolas’s ragged breaths. Choking on his frustration and rage, he wanted to smash his fist against the wall. What the hell are you doing? What is the matter with you? She’s so damned desirable. She is hungry for it. This is no time for a crisis of conscience!

  He couldn’t believe he was with a gorgeous woman. Naked. Painfully hard. And was actually hesitating to bed her.

  Something caught the corner of his eye. The fire from the hearth cast an orange light into the two rooms that stemmed from the one he was in. In one of those rooms, he could clearly see a small writing desk. Some books were on it. As was a crystal inkwell. The desk had several drawers.

  “Nicolas?” Anne’s voice grabbed his att
ention. She stood at the door, and to his disappointment, she’d placed her chemise back on. “Is everything all right?”

  No. Never, not ever in his life had he become discomposed—and certainly never during an intimate encounter. He was highly disciplined. Trained in combat. Skilled in weapons. And when he wasn’t working toward his next ambitious promotion, he was participating in his favorite pastime—recreational sex.

  He liked women. Loved a good tumble.

  He didn’t think he could be unraveled—by her or anyone. It horrified him that she had.

  Anne approached and, by her expectant expression, was awaiting his response.

  “I … uh …” Dieu, he was actually flustered. He gnashed his teeth.

  Something flickered in her eyes. “Say no more. I know what you’re after.”

  He tensed. “You do?”

  “Yes. It’s rather obvious.” The knowing look in her eyes made him uneasy.

  “It is?” It couldn’t be. How could she possibly know a thing about his mission?

  “Of course. It’s why you came in here.” She stepped between him and the rectangular wooden table in the middle of the room. “I know what you’re looking for.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what is it I’m looking for?” He’d be damned if he confessed a thing.

  She lifted her brows. “You want me to say it?”

  He curled his fingers under her chin. “Say it.”

  “The door you’re looking for is over my shoulder—the Salle de Bain. You’ll find the chamber pot in there, next to the tub.”

  Nicolas froze and blinked. Then he tossed his head back and roared with laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “You think I need to … to …” He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence, laughter erupting from him again.

  Perplexed, she frowned.

  It took several moments before he could finally sober up. This was definitely not his typical sexual encounter. It was high time to put an end to his imbecilic behavior.

  He picked her up and placed her bottom down on the table behind her. Her eyes widened. Nicolas cradled her face between his palms. “I came in here because you overwhelm me.”