by Emma Holly
She laughed underneath her breath. “Thank you for not lying to make me feel better.”
“But you don’t like liars. At least, I don’t think you do.”
They’d gotten out of the truck and stood together on the front steps. Georgie wasn’t ready to let her companion leave. She was still buzzing from his kiss, from the fact that a man had made her see stars at last. She touched her swollen mouth and then his black lapels. She loved that he looked at her as if no one else could possibly claim his attention.
“Do you always tell the truth?”
“When I can,” he said, seemingly without irony.
His honesty about his dishonesty tickled her.
“Okay,” she joked. “Forewarned is forearmed.”
His hands were on her arms, stroking them up and down. He made her feel simultaneously safe and fluttery. Maybe he was the guy she’d been waiting for, the one who’d make it worth her while to get physical. Would it be weird to ask him to stay over? He must be older than her by a couple years. He had a job. And maybe a hotel room.
“Would you—” She hesitated.
“Would I what?”
“Would you like to stay overnight? Alma won’t throw a fit. I am eighteen, and we have separate wings.”
“You mean stay overnight with you. In your bed.”
“Yes.”
His lips parted as he looked down at her—like maybe he needed air. “That would fulfill my dearest wish.”
“Sneak in with me then.” For the pleasure of touching him, she pressed two hushing fingers to his smooth mouth. “I don’t want to talk to anyone but you.”
The look in his eyes was hot. He smiled and nodded, and they slipped to her rooms without meeting anyone. Their success didn’t surprise her. Alma’s servants always avoided her.
She opened her door carefully.
“Watch out for my cat—”
She didn’t get a chance to elaborate. As soon as she stepped inside, Connor pressed her into the nearest wall and kissed the breath from her.
His enthusiasm felt really good. His muscular body was rubbing hers, his weight digging into her. He was hard and big—not just his chest and thighs, but the thick ridge between his legs.
Shit, he was hung . . . though maybe “hung” wasn’t the right word then. From the feel of it, his cock was completely vertical.
Georgie was too excited for this to make her nervous. She moaned as his hands slid under her short outfit.
A second later, she was glad she wore a thong. The less material in his way, the better.
“I like this,” he said, squeezing her bottom cheeks. “Kissing and touching you is heaven.”
She thought so too but, “Move back a sec,” she said.
He stepped back at her gentle shove, his powerful chest moving in and out. His diaphragm shifted faster when she reached for her dress’s hem. She grinned, suddenly enjoying her female power. Though they hadn’t turned on the lights, the moon shone bright through her suite’s windows. He was going to get an eyeful.
“Are you watching?” she asked.
“Oh yes,” he promised throatily.
She peeled off the dress in one movement and stepped out of her pinchy heels. The garment’s halter style hadn’t required a bra. Once it was gone, her little cross and lacy thong were all that covered her. Her nipples had drawn so tight they felt hot and cold at once.
Connor put his hand on his heart and sighed.
She couldn’t help giggling. He was making this easy.
“You now,” she ordered. “Stand in that moonbeam and strip off everything.”
He moved to the square of light and began unbuttoning.
Her breath came quicker as he dragged out his white shirttails. He pulled his right arm free of his shirt and jacket at the same time. His left arm followed, baring his upper half. Wow, his chest was amazing—like a gladiator or something. His pecs were slabs, his smoothly defined six-pack mouthwatering. The line of hair down their center really did draw an arrow. The slick European trousers hung on his hips just so.
He smiled when he saw her swallow.
“The rest, please,” she requested.
He undid his belt and unzipped. The rasp of the metal teeth made her shiver. He had tighty whities under there . . . and an imposing bulge. Georgie bit her lip when he slid his hands into his underwear. He wasn’t touching himself. He was pushing his briefs and trousers together down his legs.
When he reached the end of his bend, he laughed at himself.
“Shoes,” he explained. “Watching you made me forget to remove them first.”
He got his footwear off a little ungracefully. When he straightened, she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.
He was the picture she’d admired all those years ago, and yet he was so much more. His glittering eyes made him more, his beating pulse and his ragged breathing. His erection was a definite addition. That upright pole was spectacular, the way it lifted from his thatch and throbbed like there was a heart in it. Overcome, Georgie pressed both hands to her mouth and stared.
Possibly she enjoyed the visual a bit too long.
“I like the way you look at me,” he said. “But I’d like you to touch me more.”
Maybe it wasn’t sophisticated, but she flung herself at him.
He let out an oof of surprise, followed by a flattering groan. They clung to each other, kissing, squirming, rubbing their naked skin together everywhere they could. Georgie felt drugged by Connor’s focus. He kissed like he’d never been allowed to before and couldn’t get enough: deep, intense explorations she reveled in matching. He obliterated whatever insecurity she might have had.
When her fingers wrapped his erection, he sighed like he’d never felt anything so good.
“Oh yes,” he said, covering her hold with his. “Rub me just like that.”
She hadn’t felt much better than this herself. His satiny heat drew her fingers all over him: his veins, his rounded tip, even the curls at his base. Urged on by his groans, she rubbed, and he kissed, and then his hand slid behind the front of her lace panties. She heard how wet she was, but his sliding touch on the jangling nerves of her clit was too welcome to leave room for embarrassment.
She guessed they were both cranked up.
His lips released hers, his brow leaning warm and damp on hers. She knew his gaze was directed between her legs.
“I need to pay attention to this,” he said.
He pushed one finger slowly into her.
She groaned so loudly that did embarrass her. Her pelvis and spine rolled toward him, forcing his probe deeper.
When his thumb caught her clit and the finger inside her flexed, she didn’t have a word for the noise she made. The double caress was exactly what she’d been craving.
“I like that sound,” he murmured against her ear. “It makes my cock so stiff it aches.”
She’d forgotten about the handjob she’d been giving him.
“No,” he said when she tried to resume it. “Your touch is wonderful, but it keeps me from thinking straight. I’d like to carry you to bed now.”
Her eyes had closed with the weight of pleasure. Now they blinked open dazedly.
“Bed?” he reminded.
“Yes,” she agreed. “That’s where I want to be.”
CONNOR ENJOYED SWEEPING Georgie into his arms. Carrying her made him feel manly, or at least it did for a few seconds.
“Shoot,” she said. “Wait.”
She wriggled down and scampered to the bathroom. Connor was pretty sure he didn’t need the item she came back with. He didn’t believe his body was fertile. He had, however, seen the porn men use condoms, so he put it on dutifully. Georgie watched him with flattering attention.
“Better?” he asked after he was covered.
“Yes. Sorry I interrupted.”
“Georgie, you don’t have to apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
“Right,” she said and bit her thumbnail.
/> She was nervous. Given what he knew of her personal life, he suspected why. Oddly enough, her anxiety gave him more confidence.
He took the hand she’d been biting to chafe it soothingly.
“I know I look like a bad girl . . .” she began in a warning tone.
“I’m not judging you by your cover. I will be careful with you and make sure you enjoy yourself.” He smiled, amused by his own situation, so much stranger than she guessed. “You should perhaps be careful with me as well. If you don’t know your own strength, who knows what could be breakable?”
Her mouth twisted humorously. “It’s a deal,” she said and stepped back into his arms.
Oh, it was hard to control his body. It wanted so much to take her where she stood. He swept her up again to distract it, finally placing her where he wanted on her bed. She scooted back on the mattress, lifting her hips to pull her small panties down her long legs.
Her eyes were nervous again.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “And strong. And we both want each other. This is going to be fun.”
“Right,” she agreed breathlessly.
He laughed and crawled onto the bed with her. She leaned back as he came forward, which he found unexpectedly enchanting. Every inch of his skin pulsed with awareness. Georgie put her hands on his waist. Her palms were warm. He kissed the two golden rings in her right eyebrow.
“You want to be on top?” she asked.
“I do.” His penis surged in agreement that this position appealed to it. He smoothed her left thigh, coaxing it to relax wider.
When he did the same to her other leg, she wriggled restlessly.
Because it pleased him to please her, he slid two fingers through her wet folds. The channels between her labia were butter smooth. He thought they led very nicely to the swelling at their apex. All the research he’d consulted said this was the focal point of a female’s pleasure. Curious, he pinched the bud lightly and rubbed it.
The experts must have been right. Georgie made a broken sound and arched her back off the bed. He liked that. Wetness welled on his tip, similar to what spilled from her. To be honest, he wanted to squirm too.
“I am ready,” she said in a tone of reminder.
He came down on his forearms until his whole front touched hers. Her breasts were soft, their small movements enthralling him. Georgie’s palms smoothed down his back to curve around his buttocks. Her fingers tightened impatiently.
He did squirm then, and her pelvis shifted. Suddenly, the sensitive crown of his erection was seated at her gate.
She licked her lips. “Go ahead,” she urged.
This was a command he could not resist. He pushed forward from his hips, encountering a small resistance. Georgie gasped and he would have stopped, but then she pushed up to him. Her action slid him into nirvana. The sensation of their bodies joining was amazing—as if a liquid made of electrons were dancing up every nerve in his cock and thighs. He groaned and clenched and drove himself deeper. Further he went, further, until her hot velvet softness completely surrounded him.
A tremor like a little earthquake ran through him.
“Oh God,” she said. “Don’t move. I want you to stay right there.”
Moving would have been difficult. She was clutching him with her arms and legs.
“Am I . . . hurting you?” he asked. He could barely speak, and his voice sounded peculiar—rougher and lower than before.
He supposed he wasn’t hurting her, because she groaned and writhed around him. “You feel good,” she said between pants. “Oh my God, you’re big.”
Her jerky, circling movements increased his pleasure dramatically. Pressure built in his testicles. He had a feeling he knew what was happening.
“Georgie,” he said, “if you don’t stop that for a bit, I believe I’m going to come.”
She stilled as her eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“This is exciting. Give me a chance to control myself.”
She smiled and relaxed her death grip on him. He remained quite excited but also craved movement. Was it safe yet? How much time did his body need? Her pussy was soft and warm. He thought he’d enjoy pushing back and forth within it. Wasn’t that exactly what the itchy-ache in his cock required? Because her breasts were there and very tempting, he covered them with his hands. Her nipples beaded tighter beneath his thumbs, compelling him to feather them.
“Mmm,” she said, arching up again.
Then he had to move. He’d have gone crazy otherwise. He pushed in slowly and drew back the same way. The tightness at her entrance tugged slightly on his flare.
“Wow,” Georgie said. “Please do that again faster.”
“Georgie,” he sighed, abruptly overwhelmed by what they were doing. He smoothed her dampened hair off her forehead. The feel of her was marvelous, the realness of her flesh against his. He wanted to remember this forever.
“Please,” she said. “Go at me for real.”
He smiled. “Only if you do the same.”
“All right,” she said. “I will.”
Amusingly, she waited for him to start. She was true to her word, though. When he pushed, she did as well. They watched each other’s gazes as he repeated the stroke faster. He lifted one eyebrow and she nodded. She wanted more so he gave it to her. He began to grunt as their pace quickened. Her hands tightened on his back, her hot wet pussy drawing deliciously at his cock.
Taking that as a sign, he sped up another notch.
“God,” she gasped and suddenly rolled them both to their sides. Her upper leg hooked behind him, pulling them together fast and hard.
She wasn’t holding back. He cupped her breast and she cried out with orgasm. Her walls fluttered on his penis, her wetness increasing. The pressure of need rose inside him. He wanted to go at her like she’d asked before, to . . . ravish her as the novels said. Was this because he was male or because he desired her so much? The ferocity of his longing was a bit alarming.
“Georgie,” he said. “I want to shove you onto your back.”
“Yes,” she urged, tugging him over her even as he began to roll. “Let go. Let go inside me.”
He didn’t precisely let go, but he—or perhaps his Y chromosome—definitely took control. He flipped her over and slung in deep. Immediately, his hips were pumping, his knees and toes digging in to her bed. He yanked her hands up beside her head, and that excited him even more. He liked holding her prisoner, liked owning her just for now. She must have liked it too. She gripped his hands back and growled.
“Show me,” he said. “Teach me how hard I can go at you.”
She twisted, her feet flat on the mattress now. They trapped each other, slammed at each other, until every nerve Connor had coiled as tightly as possible. Something needed to break. The tension inside him shot up unbearably. His cock swelled bigger, stiffer, every pistoning inch in exquisite pain.
Georgie let out a strangled cry, another flush of climax suffusing her. Her pussy tightened and pulled. Connor groaned. He told himself he was allowed to give in, to grab for his own release. He drove inside her as if total penetration could save his life . . .
At last, his pleasure crashed into being.
White fire pulsed from his groin: tight, sweet convulsions of ecstasy. He heard her say his name from a long distance. On and on his first orgasm ever rolled.
“Ah,” he sighed as it melted and spread out like sunrise.
He’d flung his head back and closed his eyes. He opened them now to look at her. She was sweaty and pink-faced and beautiful.
She also was grinning.
“Boy,” she said. “When you let go, you really let go.”
“That was all right?”
She laughed at him, her palms shoving playfully at his chest. “That was epic! I came like one of those trains you like.”
“Me too,” he said, relief flooding him. He drew his softening organ carefully out of her. The condom was wet and sticky.
Kleenex, he thou
ght, remembering where the box sat beside her bed. He cleaned up, pleased with himself for knowing what to do. Apparently, he was good at being physical.
He turned back to find Georgie propped on her elbow, watching him.
“Did I forget something?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Just watching the show. That was a great first time.”
“Ah,” he said. She didn’t seem to want to make a big deal of it. He didn’t think he was supposed to mention it had been his first time too. Men his apparent age were expected to be experienced. Hopefully, it was enough that she knew he’d especially enjoyed himself.
His course decided, he gazed back at her happily. Her soft red hair had fallen from its pins. He combed some of it behind her ear. “Would you like to cuddle now?”
He didn’t think this was funny, but Georgie laughed.
“Yes,” she said. “As it happens, I would.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
—
REAL
Georgie snuggled her lover, her cheek settling perfectly into the hollow of his shoulder. Though the air was warm, he’d pulled the sheet to their waists. She smiled at the sound of his heart slowing gradually. Whatever happened next, whether Connor stuck around or rode out on the next stagecoach, she knew she’d been lucky. He’d been considerate and exciting and—as he’d predicted—fun.
You chose right, she thought, petting the groove that bisected his washboard abs. He stroked her ribcage and kissed her brow.
“Don’t be startled,” Connor said, “but your cat is about to jump up here with us.”
Though he’d stalked across the floor silently, Titus landed with a thump. With his usual lack of patience, he butted her hip for attention.
“All right,” she said, reaching back to give his ears a scratch. “I haven’t forgotten you exist.”
When he settled down and started purring loudly, she knew she’d never felt so peaceful and secure—including when her mom was alive. She enjoyed the feeling, but it also unnerved her. Connor really might skip town tomorrow. Who knew how much of a rolling stone he was? Then again, what if he stayed a while? What if he thought this was special too?
