Clari was nervous. Viscount Lethbridge was acting very strangely tonight. No sooner had he arrived than he rushed her out the door. And they were not lazily strolling the gardens, either. He made a direct line for a dark maze in the corner, leading her into it quickly before anyone could see them.
Lethbridge hadn’t spoken since they left the ballroom, and Clari kept the silence as he maneuvered them through the maze to a corner lit only by the moonlight filtering through the leaves of a tall tree. The tree’s trunk was the link between the two hedges at the farthermost corner of the maze. There was a stone bench along one hedge. From the leaves and small bits of natural debris on the bench, not many made it this far into the maze. He dusted the bench off and gestured for Clari to sit. She did so and waited in anticipation for whatever was to come.
He stood looking at her in the moonlight for a moment and then spoke quietly. “Clari…may I call you Clari?”
She nodded. “Yes. It’s a pet name my father gave me as a child, short for Clarissa.” She grinned at him. “But I’ve never been a Clarissa.” She rubbed her scarred nose to illustrate the point.
He tilted his head, regarding her seriously. “I think you could be whatever you wanted, Clari.” He stepped closer, and pulled aside his coattails to sit beside her. Clari’s heart began to race. “Clari…” He seemed unsure of himself, which surprised her. He’d always been so forceful, so determined.
“My lord,” she murmured, her soft voice inquiring.
“Dominic,” he said, and he seemed to regain his self-assurance. “Or Dom. It’s what my friends call me.”
“Then Dom it is,” Clari agreed teasingly. He smiled at her, and the hunger in his smile made the moisture gather between her legs, made her nipples peak inside the soft silk of her chemise. She became acutely aware of their surroundings, of the darkness and solitude of the little corner at the back of the maze.
“Do you remember when you kissed me, Dom?” Her voice was a breathless whisper.
“Yes, I remember.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and Clari felt a little frisson of fear. But it was the kind of fear that excited her, that made her want to jump into the lion’s jaws to feel his hot breath and the bite of his beautiful, sharp teeth.
“Kiss me like that again,” she whispered and she leaned toward him.
Dom pulled her into his embrace and his mouth swooped down over hers. It was as demanding as she had hoped, as she had dreamed. His mastery of the kiss was complete, and yet Clari felt his excitement when she thrust her tongue into his mouth to parry with his. He backed down, letting her take the lead. She licked into him and felt intoxicated at the taste and feel of his mouth. His breath was indeed hot, his teeth sharp. The soft skin of his cheeks against her tongue and the taste of spirits and mint made her melt against him. She ate at his mouth, nibbled his lips and sucked the lower one into her mouth. Dom moaned and Clari felt a power she’d never known before. She captured his moan and swallowed it and fisted her hands in his hair to pull him closer.
Dominic broke away from the kiss with a ragged breath. Clari followed the line of his jaw with little teasing kisses, feeling like the seducer here and enjoying it.
“Clari,” he rasped, and had to clear his throat. “Clari, stop. We must talk.”
“No,” she panted, running her mouth down his throat. “I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss.” She kissed the soft skin low on his neck, just above his cravat, but it wasn’t enough. She sucked a small, tender morsel into her mouth and Dom’s strangled groan encouraged her. She sucked the skin there lightly, wanting to devour him.
Dominic pulled her head back with a strong hand twisted in her hair. The sharp sting of it made Clari moan.
“Sweet Christ,” he swore as she fought to bring his lips back to hers. Then he swung her around on the bench and brought her back up against his chest, trapping her within the circle of his arms.
Chapter 3
“Clari, stop,” Dom whispered in her ear, his hot breath again that of a predator. Clari felt like prey as she was caught in his arms. She struggled but Dom tightened his hold. The contact made her gasp as his arm slid just under her breasts, supporting them, pushing them up, rubbing her aroused nipples against warmed silk.
“Clari, I won’t hurt you.” His voice was a low throb behind her. His hand opened, and spread against her rib cage, his fingers spanning most of her abdomen. It made her realize how large his hand was, what a big man he was, and the thrill of it spiked her fear, and her desire. Her panting breaths filled the night air. He let her go and Clari flew from the bench, but she didn’t go far, just a few steps away to get herself under control.
“What…” Clari had to stop to lick dry lips, “what’s going on, Dominic? What do we need to talk about?”
She saw his nostrils flare when she said his name. “I like it when you call me that.” He stood. “I want you so much, Clari.” When he stepped forward she retreated until her back hit the tree.
“Is that what we need to talk about?” Clari asked. She tried to sound teasing, but her voice shook slightly, ruining the effect. She was scared, but also excited and aroused. Not just by Dominic’s kisses and his admission, but by the dominating way he’d held her. She knew he didn’t understand why she was running from him. “Because I’d like to start.”
Dominic looked surprised, but he took a step back and nodded. Clari took a deep breath, feeling as if she were stepping off a cliff, hoping Dominic would catch her.
“I want you too.” Dominic started to take a step forward then and Clari held up a hand and he stopped. “No, let me finish. I’m hiding over here by the tree because when I’m near you I want your tongue down my throat and your hands on my body, so if you insist on conversation, then you’d better stay put.”
Dom laughed and shook his head. “I should have known you wouldn’t play the scared little debutante, shrinking from the touch of an aroused man.”
Clari smiled at him and he saw the desire in her expression. “Hardly. I’ve been dreaming about getting you alone for weeks. I want you in every way possible.”
Dom sucked in his breath. Did she understand exactly what she was saying? “I know a great many ways that are possible, and some most people would consider impossible.”
Clari tilted her head, obviously intrigued. “I know a little, you know. I paid a maid to buy a book for me, and then I…experimented with some of the things I read.”
It was Dom’s turn to look intrigued. “Experimented how?”
Clari’s pose became relaxed as she leaned back against the tree. She ran her hands up her stomach and Dom held his breath as she hesitated before covering her breasts with them and squeezing. “I touched my breasts, like this.” When she pulled her hands away her nipples were hard, the peaks through the thin silk of her gown as large as ripe cherries. Dom’s mouth began to water.
“Christ,” Dom breathed, his cock so hard the tip nearly poked out the top of his trousers. “What else?” He took a tentative step forward and when she looked at him invitingly he slowly prowled over to the tree. He leaned one forearm on the trunk so he was looking down at her, and pressed his nose into the hair on the top of her head, breathing deeply. “Did you touch yourself,” he moved his hand down to cup her mound through her thin dress, “here?”
Clari’s breath hitched, and she undulated against his hand softly, sinuously. “Yes,” she whispered and tipped her head back to lean it against the tree so she could see him. “I touched myself there until I learned how to climax.”
“God, Clari,” Dom rasped, as he rubbed his palm over the heat of her, evident even through her clothes. She was all that he had dreamed and more. “Are you wet right now?”
Clari’s hips moved against him again, and she nodded. “Touch me, Dominic.”
Dom moved and began to knead and shape Clari’s breasts, the pressure of his hands nearly spilling the creamy globes out of her low-cut bodice. She moaned. “I should have known you’d start there.” Dom looked a
t her in question. She shook her head. “Men rarely look in my face when they’re talking to me, Dominic. They look at my breasts.”
He ran a finger along the soft swells over the pale silk border. “This is lower than you’ve worn in the past, Clari. This dress is more provocative. Why? If you don’t want men to stare.” He continued to trace an invisible line across the hot, satiny flesh, and gooseflesh rose in the wake of his finger. Her nipples were still hard, tempting him.
“I wanted you to kiss me again,” she said, her voice trembling. “I wanted to make you want me.” She shrugged unsteadily. “It seemed the quickest way to do it.”
Clari closed her eyes on a moan as Dom ran featherlight fingers over her nipples. He laughed, the sound low and predatory. “I have wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He leaned his hips in and rubbed his cock against her and they both gasped. Dom dragged in a moan. “Christ almighty, you’ve got me so hard I ache.” Clari’s hands clutched his shoulders.
He pulled away and spun her around to unlace her dress. As soon as it was loose he turned her back and pulled it down, along with her chemise, until they rested just below her breasts. The clothes, and her corset, pushed her lush breasts up and forward like an offering. They were pale perfection topped with large rosy red nipples, turgid and begging to be sucked. “These are the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen, Clari.” He didn’t try to minimize his admiration as he leaned down and licked one rosy peak, slowly dragging the flat of his tongue over it, savoring the texture and flavor. He bit it gently and she cried out, arching her back. Dom latched on to the sweet bud greedily, sucking and pulling on it, his hand cupping the fullness of her large breast, pressing it into his mouth. He pulled his mouth off the nipple with a pop, and licked the soft skin of her breast, then ran his tongue over the small bumps that filled the dark pink areola around the delicious point. He loved the textures of her breast—smooth, rough, soft, hard. She tasted of spicy perfume and the salty tang of sweat, a heady combination.
Clari was panting, her hands buried in his hair. “I’m glad you like them,” she said breathlessly.
“Do you taste this good everywhere, Clari?” he growled. She looked at him blankly and he straightened, running his fingers worshipfully over the soft, creamy skin, feeling the heat and softness and marveling at it. He explained. “I want to lick your cunny, Clari. I want to taste you there, too.”
Clari felt her knees go weak at Dominic’s words. “Yes, Dominic,” she told him, her voice a rough whisper. “I want that. Can you do that?” He fell to his knees before her and pushed her skirt up, his movements urgent as if he had to taste her now, right this minute.
“I can do that and more, Clari.” He shoved the skirt into her hands and she grabbed it.
She felt his fingers nimbly working on the tie to her drawers. Then she heard a rip.
“Damn.” She looked down and the tie was undone, but he’d ripped the drawers nearly in half. The sight of him kneeling before her, his face on a level with her wet, throbbing sex made Clari moan and close her eyes.
“Just rip the damn things off and put your mouth on me,” she groaned. “Lord, Dominic, I never knew a man would do that for a woman.” She yanked at the torn garment. “I want more. I want you to do everything to me, Dominic, everything you ever wanted to do to a woman.”
He reached out and ripped the drawers off, the sound loud in their secluded clearing. “That is precisely what I’d hoped to talk about this evening,” he said in a choked voice. Dominic looked up at her, as if to make sure she was watching and then touched a finger to the top of her dark pelt of pubic hair. The touch was light, soft, but it went through Clari like lightning. She shook with the force of it, felt her entrance swell and open, her juices flow in a hot rush to coat her lips there. Dominic ran his finger down to the top of her slit and then insinuated it between her swollen lips. She cried out when he pressed on the small, hard nub there, and her hips thrust against that one finger. He slid his finger lightly down until he touched the weeping entrance at the heart of her sex.
“So wet, Clari,” he murmured, “so hot and swollen.” He looked up at her and there was triumph in his gaze. “You’ll do it,” he told her. “You’ll do anything I want.”
And in that moment Clari knew he was right. She nodded slowly. “Yes, Dominic, I’ll do anything.”
He leaned in and his tongue licked her, staying on the outer lips, lapping up the cream coating them, nuzzling his nose in her damp pubic hair. Clari bit her lip to stifle her cry of pleasure, and released one hand from her skirt to clutch his head and hold his mouth to her. His tongue darted in and danced around her hard clitoris, and Clari thrust against it. When he did it again, as she thrust her hips she felt his finger push inside her, slowly but insistently until it was fully embedded in her sheath. It felt big and rough, and so good.
“Dominic, yes,” she moaned and her reward was another thrust as he drank the juice that was flowing freely from her now, drawn by his finger fucking her so deliciously. It became a dance of thrust and retreat, his mouth always there, licking, drinking, nibbling—eating her sex. She couldn’t stop her moans as she rode his face, her thighs trembling with the effort to stay up as her arousal built around his finger and mouth.
When he pulled his mouth away Clari cried out in dismay and he laughed. “Clari, my little wanton. You taste so good I’m tempted to eat you all night. You’re so bloody wet, you’ve soaked my hand.”
He thrust his finger in hard and deep and Clari rode it. On the next thrust it felt bigger, and she moaned at the sting of it.
“I’ve got two fingers in your cunt, Clari,” Dom whispered. She looked down and through the haze of her desire saw him watching his fingers fucking into her. “Do you want another?”
Clari licked her lips and the sensation of her own tongue there was arousing she’d become so sensitive. “Do you?” she finally asked Dominic, who’d been patiently waiting for an answer. His reply was to push three fingers inside her, and the fullness, the sting, the ache of it was heaven. “Dominic!” she cried out.
Immediately he pushed his mouth against her again, and latched on to her clitoris, sucking noisily. His fingers fucked her deep and hard and Clari saw stars behind her eyes. She was reaching for the bliss she knew awaited her. She’d climaxed before, but not with a man. Not with Dominic, his fingers fucking her, his face buried between her thighs.
Suddenly one of his fingers pulled out, and traced a line back to the tight hole in her bottom. He ran his wet finger around the hole and then without warning pushed it in, not all the way but still enough to make Clari cry out. It was decadent, arousing, shocking, and it felt good, so good, as he began to wiggle the finger there, and rock it in a small in-and-out motion, never really retreating but massaging her back passage.
“God, yes,” Clari groaned, and Dominic groaned with her. At the feel of his rumble of satisfaction against her sex Clari could take no more and convulsed around him. He pressed everything hard inside her, his fingers rubbing on a particularly sensitive spot in her cunt, the finger in her bottom hooking there, his tongue lashing her pulsing bud, and Clari thought her orgasm would never end. She cried out, and when the peak passed little tremors continued to shake her as Dominic’s ministrations grew gentler and slower.
He finally pulled away and Clari moaned at the loss of his fingers inside her. She watched Dominic pull a small portion of her chemise to his face and wipe it off. He must be drenched with her juices. She couldn’t raise any genuine regret through the pleasurable haze of satiation, but she apologized just the same, her voice hoarse from her cries.
Dominic just smiled at her as he stood up. “Don’t be sorry,” he said as he took her skirts and lowered them, covering her. “I’m not.”
Dominic took her hand and led her over to the bench in the corner. She followed docilely, letting him arrange her there to his liking. He sat her on the edge of the bench and then he stepped close, straddling her lap, his legs spre
ad wide. Her face was nearly pressed into the bulge in his trousers and she looked up at him, confused for a moment. When she saw the heat in his gaze understanding dawned in a flash.
“Can I do that to you?” she asked eagerly. “Take you in my mouth?”
“Please,” Dominic said, but it wasn’t a request, it was a command.
Dominic watched Clari’s face as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his cock out. God, it felt good to free it from its confining prison. He was so hard from eating her and having her come all over him he was sure he wouldn’t last long. He knew he was pushing the boundaries with a virgin, but that had been his intent tonight. He needed to know if Clari could handle his sexual appetites. He desperately hoped she could, because he loved her too much to walk away now. Most of his doubts about that had been settled. But there were still questions. Not many women enjoyed sucking a man’s cock, swallowing his seed. He wanted his woman to enjoy it. If Clari enjoyed it, it would tell him so much about her latent sexuality.
Clari tentatively reached out and touched the tip of his erection, already leaking. She spread the moisture around the dark head of his penis, and then pulled her hand away to rub her fingers together, as if testing the texture. Then she pressed a finger to her lips and the tip of her tongue peeked out to taste it.
“Christ, Clari,” Dom groaned, “you’re going to be the death of me.” She looked up at him and smiled, then she stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked all of the moisture off. Dom felt his cock leaking more at the sight.
Clari slowly pulled her finger from her mouth, a natural-born seductress as she watched him watch her. “It tastes salty,” she murmured, pressing two fingers against his slit this time to gather the cream. Dom grabbed her hand.
When Love Comes Calling: Two Short Stories Page 9
