Secrets of Sin

by Chloe Harris

  “Stop that.” Emiline playfully slapped his hands away. “You’ll ruin it completely.”

  She shoved him back, swung her leg over his hip, and straddled him. “Let me do that.”

  Her voice was low and alluring. She straightened on his thighs, her hands reaching up to hook her fingers into the rim of her dress. She dragged it down along with the chemise, exposing her immaculate upper body to him inch after agonizingly slow inch.

  His little seductress, so wonderful in her teasing.

  Desire swamped him, making his head spin, his senses reel. He thought he might go out of his mind. Her dark nipples were hard and erect. Reinier licked his lips.

  Her tapered hands moved farther down. He was under her spell. Mesmerized, he only watched as she bunched the skirts of her dress in her hands and dragged them up, exposing her thighs. But his little vixen stopped right before Reinier could get a glimpse of her mons.

  In response, his cock hardened again, so much so he had to hold his breath not to whimper. He yearned to feel her hot moistness clamp around him like a creamy, tight fist that milked every last drop from him. The need to be in her again, that mindless craze she induced, undid him.

  Reinier fumbled at his shirt, but his hands were too shaky to take care. He ripped the collar open and pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. Hands grabbing her upper arms, he threw her off his thighs to lay her down on the bed, ignoring her surprised gasp and mirthful laugh that followed. He got up to shed his breeches and stockings before he bent down again. His hands pulled impatiently at her dress, and his teeth aided him in his effort to undress her completely.

  Lifting her up in his arms, Reinier carried her to the head of the bed and laid her down. She lay naked and sprawled on the coverlet, rolling like a cat lazing in the sun with her arms stretched over her head and her thighs rubbing against each other.

  Heat raged through his bloodstream. Longing, sexual and possessive, pulsed in his body. Reinier didn’t swallow the purring growl. He crawled onto the bed, like a predator stalking its prey. If she kept up that teasing, he’d make her pay—dearly. And he knew she’d love every moment of it.

  His heel bumped against the bedside table catching the corner of the book that had been lying on it and sending it flying. Emiline ducked out of the way, but Reinier grabbed hold of it before it hit the pillow. He turned it in his hands, wondering what reading she enjoyed before falling asleep.

  When he saw the title, his eyes widened. Poems by John Donne. Tilting the book to the side, Reinier gazed into her wide-open, loving eyes and the idea struck him like lightning. He settled in next to her and immediately began looking through the pages. When he found his favorite elegy, the fingertips of his left hand caressed the page in an intimate gesture; then he leaned back against the head of the bed and silently started to read.

  He wasn’t aware that Emiline had been studying him until she spoke. “Would you read to me?”

  Biting his lower lip, Reinier nodded and began to read aloud. “‘Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,/Until I labour, I in labour lie./The foe oft-times, having the foe in sight,/Is tired with standing though they never fight.’”

  Emiline blinked, her lips moving into an O of surprise. Closing the book and laying it aside, Reinier bent down to kiss her, his lips sliding against hers before his tongue flicked over them. She opened them with a willing sigh and he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against hers.

  Reinier ran his hand into that wonderful mass of hair, massaging her scalp. “‘Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering, /But a far fairer world encompassing./Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,/That th’ eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.’” Rolling his hips, his cock cradled against her soft belly, his tongue slipped between her lips, tasting her, swirling around hers, tempting and teasing her.

  “‘Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime/Tells me from you, that now ’tis bed time.’” Nuzzling her chin, his hand left her hair and wandered down, beneath the cover, to cup her backside and press it against his rigid cock. She lifted her leg with a blissful sigh, wrapping it around his waist.

  “‘Off with that happy busk, which I envy,/That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.’” Reinier rained tiny kisses down her neck and up her shoulder, his hand caressing the silken skin of her backside.

  Drawing back, Reinier pursed his lips, his exploring fingers frozen in place down the crevice of her cheeks. “I’d say we’ve done all that already. I could have skipped that part entirely.”

  Emiline blinked, bewildered.

  “To save time.”

  Her exasperated sigh was not very convincing. “When have you become so impatient?”

  Reinier playfully bit her chin. “It’s a new trait I acquired.” His fingers down her crevice wandered a bit lower, so they played at her entrance without ever penetrating. “You do not approve of it?”

  Her whole body arched into his touch, and a low, quivering moan escaped her lips. “No—o. I mean, yes. Oh!” She let out a frustrated huff then, her face puckering in a funny way. “Don’t force me to think now. Just—”

  He let the tip of his middle finger enter. She moaned and her hips bucked.

  “Go on?” Reinier helped out.

  At Emiline’s enthusiastic nod, he let his hand travel over her hip to the jet-black curls between her legs, his fingers curling into her pubic hair. “‘Off with your wiry coronet and show/The hairy diadem which on you doth grow.’”

  Her eyes fluttered closed and she rolled her hips into his touch, tempting his fingers to travel farther down. When Reinier didn’t, she scowled a little.

  “I believe you forgot a line or two.”

  Reinier gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m shortening it a little, adapting so it fits.”

  His hand straightened and his fingers played over her erect, sensitive peak in the softest of touches. Emiline shuddered in his arms, her eyelids at half-mast. Her trembling echoed through him, increasing the tingling anticipation that vibrated through every fiber of his body.

  “I see.” A breathy laugh swung in her words. “Well, then. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

  “‘Thou angel bring’st with thee/A heaven like Mahomet’s paradise; and though/Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know/By this these angels from an evil sprite./Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.’”

  Emiline caught her breath and she pressed her lips together so tight they were nothing more but a fine, pale line. Her cheeks puffed and she blinked, her body shaking with the giggle she obviously tried to swallow.

  “What amuses you?”

  The whole bed shook with the force of her mirth. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be fanciful, but…”

  “But what?”

  Emiline took a deep breath. “Knowing you, I can’t imagine there’s anything that would not…uhm…‘set your flesh upright.’”

  Reinier hummed, nodding in thought. “I agree it has never happened before. Still, there’s a first time for everything, although I can’t imagine it would happen in your arms.”

  That bright, carefree side she’d just let him see disappeared completely and she blushed, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Oh,” she huffed. “Oh! You! Rascal! Scoundrel, you!” Her small fist hammered against his shoulder with little punches.

  Reinier ignored her and slid two fingers deep into her core. Instantly, she stilled, threw her head back, and gasped, her hand falling limply down, her hips gyrating against his hand.

  “I’m sorry, but did you say something?”

  “Oh, please—” Again Emiline moaned, a little louder this time. “Don’t stop.”

  “‘License my roving hands, and let them go/Before, behind, between, above, below,’” he whispered in her ear, pressing a soft kiss on her earlobe. “‘My mine of precious stones, my empery,/How blessed I am in this discovering thee!/To enter in these bonds, is to be free;/Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.’”
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  His kisses traveled down the side of her neck until his lips circled her nipple. Her skin was warm and soft. Teeth grazing, his tongue soothed and his lips closed over her to gently suckle one breast, all the while the fingers of his other hand never ceased to pump slowly in and out of her.

  He broke away to repeat the teasing game on her other breast, whispering against her skin, “‘Gems which you women use/Are like Atlanta’s balls cast in men’s views,/That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem,/His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.’”

  Goose bumps raced over her deliciously dewy skin and Reinier wanted to kiss every one of them. He almost succeeded as his lips wandered farther down her body. When he reached her belly button, his tongue snaked out to tickle it just before he nipped her lower belly. “‘Then since I may know,/As liberally, as to a midwife, show/Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence.’”

  Wandering down her body, his hands cupped her hips and tilted them slightly. Farther down, he dipped his head, his tongue stroking the inside of her thighs with lazy flicks. The more she spread her thighs, the more Reinier moved upward. When she opened up for him completely and parted her legs, he took in her scent that whispered like silk over his skin, felt its balminess on his lips, its taste a rich syrup on his tongue.

  Burying his face against her, his tongue flicked over her once, twice, savoring that unique, musky fragrance. His grip tightened to hold her in place the instant before he closed his mouth fully over her. He suckled gently and felt her shiver against his lips. Slowly, he lapped her creamy folds with the flat of his tongue, nibbled and nipped at her, teased the tight nub at the top of her sex with the tip of his tongue with gentle but rapid flicks.

  Every soft gasp from her when he suckled, every quiver of her body, every breathy moan sent the building desire faster and faster through his veins. Her hips’ response became violent and he knew he’d bring her any moment now.

  She arced, then her body came off the bed and she cried his name. Reinier closed his eyes while he drank her sweet honey, kissing and lapping at her just a little longer until her ecstasy abated.

  He pulled away and wandered up her luscious body, dragging his tongue with hungry licks up, flicking over the elongated pebbles of her nipples. Then he settled in between her legs, which promptly wrapped around his waist. He felt her arch under him to increase the pressure of his cock against her wet core, but he remained still.

  “‘Why then,’” Reinier hissed the last line of the poem. “‘What need’st thou have more covering than a man.’” He drew his hips upward and entered her in a slow thrust.

  Again, a delicious shiver tickled down his spine as he felt himself slide in, sheathed to the hilt in her moist heat, each one of her muscles gripping him.

  His pulse pitched when he heard her whisper his name again and again. He felt stunned, yet his head spun. Bliss exploded throughout his body and mind.

  Before he started to move, his mouth took hers again in a heated kiss. Then their lips parted.

  He saw the fire of ecstasy in the turquoise blue depths of her eyes, saw flames of passion, but above all, he saw the bright blaze of her love for him.

  A tender smile grew on his face. That moment he knew that nothing could ever wipe that smile away again. At long last, he was no longer alone, no longer running from something he’d never really understood. Finally, he was truly free; free to love and to cherish her like she deserved—and to be loved in return.

  “I love you, Emiline,” Reinier said with a happy sigh.

  APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2010 by Chloe Harris

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Aphrodisia and the A logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-0-7582-5653-9