by Ariel Atwell
“Well, I am saying them.” His tone remained terse.
“Say them again,” she asked. “Please.”
He sighed and, dropping the clothing he had been holding, returned to the bed. Sitting down at the edge of the mattress, he touched her face gently.
“I love you, Laurence.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, and he smiled in that devastating way of his.
“I am absolutely certain.”
For a moment, she was quiet, slowly absorbing the meaning of his words. He loved her. Was absolutely certain about it. But what was the price of that love?
She had to know. “In order to keep your love, must I change myself? Do I have to give up who I am and become an entirely different person?”
He frowned. “You are twisting my words.”
“Am I?” she asked steadily. “You want me to marry you and live as a woman, although you know full well the implications, for I could no longer practice law.”
“Is it so wrong of me to want to marry and live as man and wife with the woman I love?” he asked. “Have you be mother to my sons?”
“Is it so wrong of me not to want to give up the work that I love and the life that I have established for myself?” she countered.
“Attempting to win an argument with a solicitor as skilled as Laurence Heath is never a wise endeavor,” he observed. “Particularly when one is disadvantaged by a lack of clothing.”
“Perhaps, but I would assert that Solicitor Hastings can be equally effective in making his case,” she said, relieved that his earlier anger seemed to be dissipating.
“I have my doubts about that but know when I am beaten, if only temporarily,” he said before claiming her mouth in a kiss that left no doubt in her mind about his powers of persuasion. “I will drop the matter for now, but know that this subject is far from settled. For I love you and I want you to be mine for all time.”
Laurence looked into his eyes and saw the truth of his words shining back at her. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she had never felt like this before, and that she wanted to be his for all time. But the words would not come.
He sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope you might feel this same.”
“This is all so new to me—we are so new to each other,” she said. “Please, just give me some time to adjust.”
“I will give you time,” he said. “But I won’t wait forever.”
“I won’t make you,” she said, for the first time in her life making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.
Chapter Eleven
Laurence found it difficult to concentrate on her work that morning. She had arrived at the office more than an hour past the normal time, earning a curious look from Peters, her new private secretary.
“Are you quite all right, sir?” Peters asked.
“Of course I am all right,” she snapped. “Just because I am a bit later than usual doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong.”
“Of course not, sir,” said Peters. “But it is unusual for you to miss an appointment, although Lord Wickham was quite understanding. I’ve rescheduled him for next week. In the afternoon.”
Damn. She had totally forgotten about that one. “Thank you, Peters. You may go now.”
“Yes, sir,” said Peters, bowing and leaving her in solitude.
Two hours later, Laurence admitted defeat. She had read the same paragraph in the document she was supposed to be reviewing at least five times now and not absorbed a single word. It was damnably difficult to pay attention to the finer points of contract law when erotic memories of Matthew Hastings kept dancing through her brain.
He had looked so delectably handsome in her bed that morning, even when Martin arrived and Matthew had to hastily grab his clothing and tiptoe across the hallway back to his own room.
Just thinking about the feel of him inside of her body was enough to send shivers down her spine. How was she expected to wait an entire day to be alone with him again? It was absolute torture.
There came a gentle knock, and Laurence looked up from the papers she wasn’t reading to see Peters peering at her from around her office door with a rather tentative look.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Heath, but Mr. Hastings has asked to speak with you briefly about the Worrell case. Is now a good time, sir?”
“Show him in,” she directed, her pulse quickening.
“Good morning, Mr. Heath,” was Matthew’s greeting several long minutes later, his cheery tone containing no trace of anything even remotely untoward. The memories plaguing her seemed to be having no noticeable impact on him, she thought peevishly.
“Good morning, Mr. Hastings,” she said crisply. “You wish to see me?”
He shut the door and walked toward her in a most purposeful way. “I wish to do far more than that.” He took her into his arms with the kiss of a man starved a million years for affection. His large hands snaked down behind her back to grasp the cheeks of her bottom and pull her even more closely. “I also wish to hold you and lick you and bury myself deep within you.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she said even as she reveled in the feel and taste of him. “If someone should walk in and discover us, we would both be ruined.”
“It might almost be worth it, for I have been unable to focus on anything all morning for wanting you again,” he said, before reclaiming her lips for another long kiss. She felt his hands fumbling at her waist, and before she realized what he was doing, her trousers were unfastened and down to her ankles. His clever fingers wasted no time delving into the soft folds of sensitive flesh between her legs until she gasped.
“Matthew, you really must stop,” she whispered urgently but to no avail.
“I cannot stop,” he said. “God, you’re so wet for me already.”
She tried one more time to tell him to cease, but again the words got lost in her throat as his fingers surged in and out of her, stoking her into a frenzy of need.
He nipped her ear with his teeth. “Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want,” she said. When he pulled his fingers away, she moaned in protest.
“Let’s find out if I do,” he said, walking her backward toward the large mahogany desk in the center of the room.
He spun her around until she was bent over, her arms resting on the desk, her backside tilted up and vulnerable to him.
“You look so beautiful right now. It is all I can do to restrain myself, for I want to take you in the most shockingly base and animalistic way.” He slide his finger down between the cheeks of her ass. “Will you let me have you here one day?”
She swallowed. “Is that something people do?” she asked weakly.
“Sometimes,” he said, as his finger made its way to the soft wetness of her vulva. “But today I am hungry for this.” He inserted his forefinger inside her, and she squirmed against him, desperate for him to get to that one spot where she ached for fulfillment. He added a middle finger and pushed in and out, and she bit her lip hard to keep from making noise. “I think you’re ready for me, darling.” He pulled away, leaving her bereft and unsatisfied.
“Hurry,” she said and heard rustling sounds as if he were unfastening his trousers. Within a few seconds, she felt the velvety tip of his penis resting at her entrance.
“You’ll likely be sore,” he warned.
“I don’t care, just do it!” she ordered, desperate for his hardness.
“Who am I to defy a direct order from Heath & Heath’s managing partner?” he asked, and she felt his cock breach her opening. He had been right, for she was still quite tender from their activities the previous night and this morning, and his possession was not gentle.
“Ah,” she exclaimed as he filled her, and he hesitated briefly.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No. A little. I do not care. Do not stop.”
“So tight, yet so soft,” he said, holding her hips as he pulled himself out and then plunged all
the way back in. He repeated the motion again and again, his pace quickening until he was slamming his hips into hers with such force that she had to brace herself to keep from sliding across the desk.
She closed her eyes, loving the primitive way he was taking her. “But you must be quiet, or we will be discovered,
“Dammit, Laurence, you make me so bloody hard I can hardly keep myself from spending,” he said, his tone growing deeper as he pulsed in and out of her. “How does it feel to you?”
“Full.” She heard him chuckle and then felt his motions slow while he pressed kisses against the tender flesh just behind her ears where she was especially sensitive.
“I need never worry you will seek to flatter me with false praise, that is for certain,” he said, his tone amused. “But I would be a right selfish bastard if I took my pleasure without giving thought to yours. I must look after my lady’s enjoyment as well.”
He reached around to her exposed mound and pressed the pad of his thumb against her clitoris in a circular motion until she began to squirm against his hand.
“That’s it,” he crooned. “I am hard as a rock right now with wanting you. Do you feel me against you, stroking every beautiful bit of you until I am ready to burst?”
“Yes,” she said brokenly, feeling her arousal build.
“Think about my spreading your legs and licking your pussy the way that I did this morning. Did you enjoy that?” he asked, and she closed her eyes and saw the images conjured up by his words.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“That’s just the beginning of the wicked things I will do to you,” he continued. “For if you won’t give me your hand in marriage, then I intend to take your body in lust.”
She was finding it increasingly difficult to think let alone form words into credible sentences.
He continued. “The next time we are alone in your room, I shall tie your arms to the bedpost, push your legs open, and lick and bite that tender spot between your legs until you beg me for mercy. Only then will I let you find your pleasure.”
She groaned at the lewd images his words produced in her mind and felt herself grow wetter.
“Or perhaps I shall set you on your knees and open my trousers and put my cock deep in your mouth for you to suck until I spend myself in the back of your throat.” He thrust harder now, and she closed her eyes, savoring the delicious feel of his hand and the primal feel of him plunging in and out of her.
He wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her head back so she could hear his every word. “And when you are being very difficult, which is most of the time, I shall take you over my knee and spank you until your bottom is red, after which I will spread your sweet ass cheeks and fill you with my cock until you are screaming with pleasure.”
“No, it’s wrong. It has to be wrong,” she moaned, nearly to the edge now.
“Nothing that happens between us will ever be wrong, Laurence,” he said fiercely, plunging in and then pulling back until only the tip of his cock remained inside her. “Do you agree to my terms?”
She tried to wiggle her hips closer to the hardness that she ached for, but he held her at bay.
“You drive an overly hard bargain, sir,” she protested.
“I make no apologies for my negotiating tactics,” he said.
“And what do I get in this deal, solicitor?” she said, growing increasingly frustrated.
“Unspeakable pleasure far beyond what you’ve ever imagined and certainly more than you deserve, you ungrateful woman,” he teased. “So I shall ask just once more. Are those terms agreeable to you, Mr. Heath, or shall I pull out and leave you here to find your pleasure without me?”
“You are practicing blackmail, which is most certainly against the law,” she moaned, her every nerve ending craving the fulfillment only he could bring her.
“Just answer the question, solicitor,” he said.
“I accept, I accept, just please don’t stop.”
“That’s it, you’re nearly there. Let yourself go,” he directed, pushing back into her, and she felt the pleasure spreading like a scalding hot wave across her.
He put his hand over her mouth, stifling the sound of her cries as she orgasmed, her body vibrating against his. He thrust against her three more times and then abruptly pulled out. She felt the warm liquid of his release gush against her back.
He leaned his head down against her neck as they both fought to catch their breath. Despite the awkwardness of her position, Laurence reveled in the physical connection she felt with this man. This very unexpected man who had come from nowhere so recently and now meant so much to her. It was hard to fathom how it had happened so quickly.
“You are a veritable temptress, Laurence Heath, for you compel me to do and say the most wicked and shocking things imaginable,” he said against her ear, his breathing still labored.
“I make you do things?” Laurence was indignant at the audacity of his words, but her attempts to rise up were completely stymied by the weight of his much heavier body atop hers. “I was here working when you came into my office under false pretenses and practically attacked me. How dare you seek to shift the blame to me, the innocent victim of your insatiable lust?” She pushed against him. “Now move before we are discovered, you lout.”
“An innocent victim?” Matthew scoffed. “If there is a victim here, it is yours truly, for how can a simple man like myself be expected to resist the sensual temptations offered by a body so clearly designed for pleasure? I have just spent myself with all the restraint of a schoolboy and by all rights should be as limp as a ribbon in a rainstorm. Yet I am already growing hard again at the thought of you.”
Before Laurence could respond, there came a knock on the office door. They both froze.
“Mr. Heath, your noon appointment is here, sir,” Peters called out from the other side of the door.
“Just a moment, Peters,” Laurence responded. “Get up now!” she whispered urgently to Matthew, but he was already rising.
“Stay still for a moment,” he ordered in a low voice, using his handkerchief to mop up her lower back. “You’re good now,” he said, helping her to stand up.
“Shall I bring in Lord Underwood’s files for your review before your next meeting, Mr. Heath?” Peters asked.
“He’s normally so useless. Why must he be so damnably efficient right now?” she muttered, pulling up her trousers and lacing them together with shaking fingers. “Just another minute or two, Peters, we’re almost finished here,” she called out. “What are you smiling about?” she asked Matthew, who was also scrambling to adjust his clothing back to a fully respectable state.
“‘We’re almost finished here,’” he mimicked. “Don’t you think he might be wondering what we’re finishing?”
“That’s exactly why we cannot do this again,” she hissed.
“If you say so, Mr. Heath,” he said, his lips curved into a mischievous smile.
For the millionth time she wondered why he had to be so devastatingly handsome.
“Should I plan for us to depart the office at the usual time tonight?”
“If that suits you,” she said, tucking in her shirt.
He pulled her close for one last kiss.
“I’ll be counting the hours until I have you naked in my arms again, Mr. Heath,” he said, taking her hand and placing it across the front of his trousers, where she felt the unmistakable bulge of his erection. “It won’t be an early night, so prepare yourself. For I fully intend to hold you to the terms of our agreement.”
She shivered. Whether in fear or anticipation, she couldn’t be sure.
“I appreciate your perspective on that, Heath. You’ve really helped clarify those issues for me,” Matthew said loudly as he opened the door. “Until tonight,” he said, sotto voce, and strode out of her office.
* * * *
That evening they finished their dinner in record time.
“You may depart early tonight, Martin,” Lauren
ce told the servant. “Mrs. Martin will be glad to see you at home early for a change.”
“If you say so, sir,” Martin said, a doubtful look on his face.
The back door had barely shut behind him before Matthew was taking her mouth in an urgent kiss that sent hot streaks of arousals arcing through her body.
“Has a meal ever taken longer?” he growled. “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.” He cupped the crescent of her ass with his large hands and pulled her against him so that she could feel the hardness of his erection through her clothing and his.
She rose to meet his kiss, her lips giving back everything he was trying to take. Through the fabric of her breast bindings, she felt her nipples tingle and ache, and she pressed herself against his chest, seeking relief. She felt almost feverish then, rubbing her hips and thighs against his hardness until he too was gasping.
“I need to be inside you now,” he said, unfastening her trousers and sliding them down to make room to slip his hand between her legs.
“I want you there,” she said, gasping when he breached her with a long finger, twirling his thumb against the outside of her.
“I love how you are always wet for me,” he rasped, stroking the sensitive flesh. “Take off your clothes now, or so help me I will rip them off your body.”
“You’re proving to be quite the brute for an Oxford man, Mr. Hastings,” she muttered, but obediently unbuttoned her shirt. She removed the man’s corset, standing before him clad only in her trousers and the binding cloths.
“If you had any idea just how primitive I am feeling toward you right now, you would order me to leave,” he said. “Take the rest off now. I want to see all of you.”
She undid the bindings, and as her breasts sprang free, he groaned.
“Hold them up for me,” he ordered roughly.
“Like this?” she said breathlessly, sliding her hands beneath the plump mounds and offering herself to him like a sacrifice to an ancient god.
“Exactly like that,” he said, dipping his head down and making a feast of her rosy-tipped nipples, teasing and licking each in turn until she was whimpering with the pleasure of it, the sensations pulsing directly down to the place between her legs where he was stroking.
