Night Magic

by Susan Squires

  “What about you?” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder.

  “We’ve got all the time in the world for me.” His voice was husky, gruff.

  Jane’s eyes narrowed and she pushed back. “Uh-uh.” She glanced down. He was still really erect. It wasn’t like he was trying to buy time to get aroused. That meant one thing. “You’re just putting it off because of the whole virgin thing. Well,” she sniffed. “I’m not settling for just an orgasm. I want the whole experience.”

  Kemble got a pained expression. “Maybe we. . . .”

  Jane had a revelation. She not only knew what she wanted in this moment, but she had some power here. He was a man. He was aroused. She had leverage. She slid her hand down around his penis and began stroking. “No, we couldn’t.” She gave him a sly grin. Whatever had gotten into her? She was becoming someone she hardly recognized. “Have you ever thought that I might chafe against the burden of virginity? Well, I do. And I’m hoping to God you can help me out here. You are my husband, after all.”

  His face softened into a smile. “So I would, in fact, be doing you a service?”

  “You would.” She felt a shudder go through his body as he pushed his penis into her hand with his hips. Oh, she liked this feeling of knowing she could make him shudder with need.

  “Well, my lady, I’m at your service.” The last word was sort of hissed.

  “Good. Please begin now.”

  He didn’t have to be asked twice.

  *****

  Kemble felt so relieved he hardly knew what to do with himself. She didn’t want to be a virgin. She might not be in love, but she’d made it clear that she wanted to have sex with him. Right now, that was enough. God, but she was driving him wild. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard with a woman. Not even when he was eighteen and got a hard-on every fifteen minutes (or so it seemed) for no reason at all. He wanted Jane so badly he hadn’t actually trusted himself to take her.

  But she was right. Best to get the virginity out of the way. He could do this. He could be gentle, no matter how much he wanted her. He wanted to make it good for her more. Best get to working her up into a frenzy then, so she wouldn’t get anxious about the potential pain. He’d felt her hymen with his fingers as he was pleasuring her just now. It was intact. Not partially torn, which would have made the whole thing easier. But at least she was well-lubricated. Dripping in fact, after her orgasm.

  And actually, Jane didn’t seem anxious at all. She was rubbing her breasts against his chest, with little moaning sounds. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, but that was arousing. Where had Jane learned to do that when she’d never even had an orgasm? And her hands on him. . . . His breath started to come raggedly. He kissed down her neck and licked the notch at the front where her pulse beat. She tasted like the exertion of her orgasm. He wanted to lick her everywhere, but a woman with so little experience probably wasn’t ready for his mouth on her sex. Her breathing was getting faster. Could she be getting aroused again already? Randy little beast. Who knew that sweet and demure Jane had a wild side?

  She looked up at him and opened those clear gray eyes. How could gray eyes exude such heat? “Are you going to do this, or just lick me like I’m a lollipop all day?”

  He had to laugh. “A lollipop,” he grinned. “I like that. Maybe I will. You’d be surprised how fun that would be for both of us.”

  He expected a blush, but instead he got a quelling look that said in all but the actual words, “Get down to business.” And that made him want to laugh again. Jane did enjoy making love. She was a much more sexual creature than he’d ever suspected, given her lack of experience. He wished he’d known the true Jane earlier. Maybe he wouldn’t have spent two days worrying himself practically into a breakdown.

  He reached over to his paper bag on the nightstand and fumbled out his package of condoms. Tearing a foil packet with his teeth, he lay back and rolled it on over his erection. Jane was watching him closely. She looked speculative.

  “Do you really need one of those?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, being responsible.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. But he didn’t want her to do too much thinking. She might think better of her situation. He rolled her over to her back, and slipped his hips between her smooth thighs at the same time. She spread them. It made him want to pound inside her until he shouted in release. But he was going to do this right. He pressed his cock against her mound and she instinctively pushed back against him, lifting her hips. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with a tenderness that he hoped concealed his raging need. Rocking against her, he palmed her breast, groaning into her mouth. She ran her hands through his hair, her nails scratching his scalp. His entire body tingled with the sensation.

  He could feel how wet she was, and the movement of her hips was getting positively frantic. Now or never, Tremaine. He grabbed his cock and positioned it at her entrance. Could he do this? Would he hurt her? She wants this. She told you so.

  So he pushed in, just a little. She gave a sigh, but it was a good kind of gaspy little sigh. He pulled out, rocked in. She was tight and slick. She felt so damned good he just wanted to ram himself home. But he couldn’t do that. She opened her eyes, still clutching his head. Her chest was heaving, her eyes glazed with lust. Jane’s eyes glazed with lust! He’d never seen anything so beautiful. He rocked in and out again. Again. She made a sound that was almost a growl.

  Should he warn her? But she already knew what would happen here, and he’d only make her tighten up. Man up, Kemble. She expects that of you. He rocked in and kept on, felt the barrier, pushed harder, until he felt it give way.

  Jane gave a gasp. Kemble froze.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.

  She seemed to consider. “No, actually. A little uncomfortable.”

  “We’ll just wait.” If he could wait a minute without bursting inside her, so hot and tight she was around him. “I’ve, uh, heard that if we give it just a minute you can still, uh, get pleasure.”

  She ran her hands over his chest. Was she thumbing his nipples? Good God. “What if I don’t want to wait?”

  Music to his ears. He could wait thirty more seconds. He was good for that long. Focus on the ROI of Redmond.

  “What are you thinking?” Jane asked, her voice drenched in suspicion. “You look like you’re thinking about something else.”

  “Spreadsheets,” he managed. “I’m calculating ROI.”

  Her eyes got big. “Now?”

  “Unless I want to embarrass myself.”

  She leaned up to kiss him. “No spreadsheets,” she whispered into his mouth.

  And her mouth was so soft, and her hands so small on his chest, and somehow he was moving without even wanting to, thrusting inside her like it was where he had belonged all his life. He had the sense to grind his groin against hers every time he lowered his hips to be sure the friction hit her clitoris. She began to gasp in earnest and meet him thrust for thrust. She must be getting close. She had to be because he was about to burst, and he wasn’t going over until he could take her with him. He wanted faster, but he knew she needed slow, so he kept a torturous pace even though it was becoming excruciating to hold back.

  She shrieked, thank God, and he increased his speed, drawing out her orgasm. As she clenched around his cock, the sensation of being milked took all control beyond his reach, and he arched into her as he spurted. It went on and on, as it seemed to being doing for Jane as well, far longer, far more intensely than he’d ever experienced. He was shooting his soul out through his cock. Bursts of light behind his eyes said he might pass out. Was that what people meant when they said they saw stars? He couldn’t think.

  When he shuddered his last, his body felt wrung out. Jane’s eyes were big. He had to clear his throat before he could say: “You okay?”

  She nodded, chest heaving. “Some . . . somewhat more than okay.” She blinked. “Is it always like that?” Her sweet breasts were slick with the perspi
ration of their efforts.

  He rolled to the side, and drew the quilt up over her so she wouldn’t get chilled as she dried off. “Uh, no. Not in my experience.” No, that’s not quite what he meant. She might misinterpret. “I mean, I don’t know how yours was compared to most women’s orgasms, but I mean, mine . . . well, mine was, uh, really good. Better than usual. Not that I have that many these days. I mean. . . .”

  She put a finger to his lips, chuckling. “I’ll take your word.”

  He disposed of the condom and curled next to her and put his arm over her waist. She turned into him so naturally. He gathered her closer, and then somehow her knee was between his thighs and he felt complete. Was this what marriage to Jane was like? He should have married her years ago. In fact, why hadn’t he married Jane? Because he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was? Or how funny and dear? He hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention to what was right in front of him, instead holding out for some mythical lightning strike that would give him magic and make him somehow live up to everyone’s expectations. Well, that was never going to happen anyway. Something released inside him. He accepted that. More, right this minute, than even when he’d asked Jane to marry him. Marriage to Jane just could turn out to be something good. He’d stumbled into it, but maybe being married to Jane was about the best thing he could do with his life, given that he was never going to get magic or true love.

  He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She made a small sound, like Tamsen’s purring cat. He could smell the scent of their recent arousal on her. She was so small and delicate in his arms. He was going to protect her, make her glad she married him, if it was the last thing he did.

  What a cad he was! He scrambled up. He should be taking care of her right now. “Damn. I’m thoughtless. Let me get you a warm towel.” He brought the bedside light up a little, grabbed the package from the night table, and dashed into the bathroom. When he flipped on the bathroom light, everything looked more intense, the color more saturated than he remembered. Maybe he’d have to do something about the chartreuse. It was really awfully bright. He jerked the tap control over to burning hot. He filled the sink with steaming water and ripped open his brown paper package. There were several plastic bottles with twining vines and flowers all over them. He scanned the directions. These things better work. The good reviews had been by women. That had to mean something. He squeezed twice the amount the directions recommended into the full sink and swished it around. The eucalyptus scent was pervasive. Boy, that would clean out your sinuses. Was it really soothing? Then he soaked a hand towel and wrung it out. Hell, he could smell the disinfectant the cleaning crew had used underneath the scent of the stuff in the water. When had they been here? Two days ago? He’d have to tell them to start using less intrusive products. His body felt wrung out, yet energized. He could probably beat his own record at pushups right about now.

  As he strode back into the bedroom, Jane was sitting up, the sheet up over her breasts. Too bad. He had decided that Jane’s breasts were world-class. Those breasts had been concealed behind those modest one-piece swimsuits all these years and he hadn’t even known it.

  He hesitated by the bed. Her lips were slightly swollen from kissing, her eyes big and languorous. A small smile edged onto her mouth and into her eyes. Her gaze took a brief tour over his body.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said simply.

  Kemble felt himself flushing. “I think you stole my line.” He swallowed. “Here.” He held out the hot towel. What was he thinking? Was he going to make her do it herself? What about caring for her, protecting her? “I mean . . . let me. Make you feel better. I mean . . . this will make you less sore.”

  She nodded and just watched him as he pulled back the quilt. The evidence of Jane’s virginity stained the very, very white sheets, bathing him in guilt, distracting him from Jane’s naked body. He could actually smell the blood. “That must have hurt.”

  “Not so much. I was focused on other things.”

  He shot her a glance. She was lovely, blushing a little bit like that. He might actually be blushing himself. Had he ever felt shy about being with a woman? Well, once or twice early on. But it had been a while. “Well,” he said, his voice gruffer than he wanted, “this stuff is supposed to be soothing.”

  He sat next to her, hoping she didn’t see that he was at half-staff again. He wished he could tell her not to be self-conscious, but saying anything would only make it worse for both of them. So he just focused all his attention on what he was doing. He spread her legs gently and held the warm cloth to the tissues of her sex, which he knew must be swollen. He could feel her relax. Maybe the heat and the herbs did help. After a while he chanced a glance up.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking a little less embarrassed. “You’re very kind.”

  Kind? He was not a stranger. “I’m your husband, Jane. I’m supposed to look after you.”

  Did she look a little disappointed? “Of course. Of course you are.”

  Oh. Maybe she thought he meant he was looking after her only because it was his duty. “I . . . I want to do it, though.” Oh, God, how awkward was that?

  She cleared her throat. “Was that nice smelling stuff what you had in the package?”

  “Yeah. Did some research on the Internet.” He adjusted the towel and pressed it up between her legs. “There’s, uh, a feminine rinse and the, uh, necessary appliance in there if you want to use it later.”

  She nodded. “That’s really thoughtful, Kemble.”

  His brows drew together involuntarily, along with the squeezed feeling in his chest. “I . . . I wanted to make it good for you.”

  She sat up abruptly and put her arms around his neck. That made her breasts press into the arm propped on the bed and his left pectoral. His cock jumped. She was killing him here. “I know,” she whispered in his ear. “And it was. So good.”

  How could her breath on his ear send shivers down him, after what they’d just done? She needed time to rest and recuperate. His cock didn’t seem to understand that. Maybe tomorrow night. He could wait until then.

  Jane’s tongue darted into his ear, caressing it in wet circles and sending goose bumps down his entire left side, all the way to his feet. God. Should he tell her she shouldn’t do that if she didn’t want to provoke. . . .

  Then she reached over and turned out the bedside light.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Where’s Kemble?” Drew asked her father. She was thirty minutes late for their regular Thursday lunch meeting to review progress on the search for Talismans. But Kemble was later. Today she had to tell Senior about the vision of the Cup, and she needed Kemble’s support for that. Plus he’d said he would provide a file on the manuscript lead.

  At least she wasn’t holding her father up. That fell to Kemble. It wasn’t like him.

  But instead of looking impatient, her father gave a sly smile. “No idea. No sign of him.”

  Drew felt her eyes widen. She couldn’t suppress a grin. “You do so have an idea, Father,” she accused.

  “Yes.” He turned back to the screen, but his eyes were alight, and Drew’s half grin was a match for his own. “Quite a relief actually.”

  Drew heaved a relieved sigh. “Jane might be good for him after all. Maybe he’ll relax about an inch now.”

  “Maybe.” Her father finally managed to suppress the smile. “So what have you got for me?”

  “Let me go get his file and then I’ll tell all.”

  *****

  Kemble’s eyes blinked open wide when he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. For three seconds he was totally disoriented, until he saw Jane curled up beside him and felt her head pillowed on his biceps. Then he couldn’t help but smile. Her fair, fine skin fairly glowed. The sweep of her lashes on her pink cheeks made her look so innocent, so pure. She’d been surprising, wonderful, surprisingly wonderful last night. Who knew that Jane was secretly an eager and inventive lover? The bed was rumpled with their exertions, last
night and in the first light of dawn this morning. Sheets tangled about their bodies. The scent of what they’d done together, several times, hung about the bed. He’d never felt more alive. Or more content. Or hungrier. Small channels of light lanced across the room from where Jane’s makeshift curtains hung slightly askew, illuminating the dust motes that swirled lazily in the sun. Sun. . . .

  What time was it? He raised his head and looked at the digital clock set into the wall above the floating night table.

  One? In the afternoon?

  He almost bolted upright, but instead eased his arm out from under Jane. “Jane, Jane, honey, I’ve got to get up.” Holy shit. He hadn’t showed up at the offices this morning, hadn’t called, didn’t even have the courtesy. . . . It was like those dreams he had where he hadn’t been to work in days and knew he’d be in trouble for it and wanted to go but kept getting interrupted by other things. Like Jane. . . .

  “What?” she asked, sleepily. Then she registered him and smiled. That smile was so satisfied, so innocent, it just melted Kemble’s heart.

  “I’m late for work,” he said, sounding like a loon. He’d better explain. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon.”

  Her mouth made a rueful curl that was actually very endearing. “You’re definitely late for work. Is there anything pressing? You signed the contract for Redmond yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He raked a hand through his hair. He meant to leap up and jump into the shower. He did. “But Drew and I were supposed to report to Senior on the Talisman search at noon. He’ll be furious.”

  “But there isn’t anything to report, is there?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying to tempt me into playing hooky, aren’t you? And yes, there is something to report.”

  “I could make pancakes and bacon,” she said in a little singsong of temptation.