by Sophia Lynn
"What—" Jordan's voice came out as a squeak, and she had to swallow before she could speak more clearly. "What's the alternative?"
"You could wear them like French women do," he said, and by this time, her underwear was looped around her thighs, leaving the flesh they covered shockingly bare.
"You see, French women put the garter belt and stockings on before they put on their panties. Then the panties slide up their legs and into place and can be slid down and removed the same way. It makes for . . . a certain amount of easy access."
Jordan shivered at the suggestion in his voice, but then he was sliding his fingers over her mound, tickling the light hair there and making her whine.
"Has anyone ever touched you here before?" he asked, circling the amazingly sensitive skin at the apex of her slit. "Hmm?"
"Of course," Jordan retorted, and he laughed.
"I think you may be a little liar," Cord observed. "I think from the way that you are squirming around and from that look of surprise on your adorable face, that this may be new to you."
"Damn you!" Jordan said, but then he was slipping a finger just inside the soft flesh there, grazing her clit and dipping down to the deeper wetness just below. She wanted to rant and shout at him, but right now, she wasn't sure that there was anything in the world as important as the way he moved his hand against her body.
“I suggest that you stay quiet,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I think it might be awkward for you to go back to work if everyone's been able to hear what it is we’ve been doing here.”
He was right, damn him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all, but that mattered so much less than how he was making her feel. His skilled fingers drew her own dampness up to the nubbin of her clit, rubbing in firm circles until she thought the pleasure would drive her mad. She felt like something small and frantic squirming under his masterful grasp, and the wanting in her rose up and up and up until she thought she would burst.
Jordan didn't understand how his touch could make her feel so much, how he was making her tremble like this as he held her pinned to the bed like a butterfly on a board. Her eyes flew up to meet his, her mouth open in an O of surprise.
“What is it, little cat?” he teased. “What's the matter? What do you want?”
“I want you to kiss me,” she whispered brokenly, and for a moment, he stilled completely. She had a second to be afraid that he would stop the delicious movements he was making, that he would pull away, but then he stretched out next to her, letting her hands go while still stroking her so gently between the legs.
“Of course,” he whispered. “Always.”
His mouth descended over hers, but this kiss was different from the other ones they had shared. This one was deeper, more powerful, wilder. This time, instead of simply taking, he was giving, and her body opened to him. She could feel her hips rocking against the steady strokes of his fingers, and it was as if she had lost all control of what her body was doing. Nothing was more important than hanging on to Cord as he effortlessly raised her body to a breaking point.
“Cord . . . Cord, oh, Cord,” she murmured wildly, any idea of defiance gone—at least for the moment—from her mind. “I can't. I don't know if I can—”
“Of course you can, little cat,” he murmured, his mouth hot against hers. “Of course you can. All you need to do is reach for it, and I will give it to you, I swear. Just reach for it. It will feel so good.”
In that moment, all she could do was tremble under his grasp. The feelings that were ripping through her were deeper than anything she had ever felt before, deeper, wilder, and more profound. She knew that her body was on the verge of tearing into a million pieces, but there was such a sense of light, a sense of inevitability that she could no longer be afraid, could do nothing but surrender.
When Jordan's body broke apart, she somehow managed to reach up and pull Cord's head down to hers. There was something strangely and beautifully elemental about that moment, as if she was somehow communing with the women who had been in this place before, who had fallen under the spell of men who were too old for them, too powerful, too strong, and too wild.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please . . .”
She caught a glimpse of his wide blue eyes, but then she could think of nothing more as her body shattered. The sensations of being utterly ravished, of being destroyed by pleasure and then born anew made her want to cry out in shock. Somehow, she managed to bite down on it, simply tightening her hand in Cord's hair and whimpering aloud as slowly, oh, so slowly, the power of the sensations started to recede.
She could feel the muscles in her body relax slowly, and somehow, she could start to put herself back together. As if from some distant planet, she felt Cord pull away, and then to her surprise, he leaned down to kiss her with more tenderness than he ever had before. There was nothing demanding about the kiss, nothing that forced her or made her feel as if she were under attack. Instead, it was shockingly sweet, almost loving, and she was the one who broke it off first, confused and even frightened.
“What was that?” she asked, and he quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Don't you know?” he asked, and when she was forced to shake her head mutely, he grinned, as sharp as any big predator.
“It's pleasure,” he said. “It's what happens when someone pays attention and decides that he wants to give you as much as you can bear and more.”
Jordan wasn't an idiot. She knew about sex and orgasms and the whole lot, but if she were pressed, she would have to admit that all of her knowledge was far more theoretical than it was anything else. She had thought about sex before, of course, but she had never imagined it happening like this.
“I need to go,” she muttered, and when she started to struggle up from the bed, he seemed too surprised to stop her. Jordan shook her clothes into order, trying to make sure that she looked something like a respectable young woman before she got back to work.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she was oddly abashed by the concern in his voice. There was something there that was almost tentative, but she shook her head, taking a step back when he reached for her.
“I think that I should take your tray back down,” she said, lifting her chin high. She wasn't someone who was going to be cowed by . . . whatever it was that they had just done. She reached for the tray only to have Cord wrap his fingers around her wrist in a grip that stopped just short of being punishing.
“I asked you a question,” he said, his voice tight, and finally, she nodded.
“I am,” she said. “Now let me go.”
He did as she said, and Jordan tried to feel as if she wasn't fleeing when she walked quickly toward the door.
Chapter Six
Jordan was braced for whatever was going to come the next time that she brought him breakfast in bed, but to her surprise, Cord seemed to have forgotten all about what they had done together. The next morning, he told her that he would send for someone to take the tray down, and the morning after that was the same. The third morning, he had been half-dressed and on the phone, gesturing at her to leave the tray before he got back to his call.
Jordan didn't quite know what to do with herself. Whenever she saw him, there was a quick, almost painful flutter of desire and curiosity and an aching need in her body, and no matter how many times she told herself that it was dumb and inappropriate to feel that way about the man whose father had destroyed hers, she couldn't help it.
Still, seeing him did things to her, and on a bright winter afternoon in Cord's study, she realized that she was more obvious than she thought she was. Mrs. O'Donnely had sent her up with a snack for Cord as he worked, and though she was nervous about entering Cord's domain again, she was eager to see the study, which was typically locked up tight when Cord wasn't in residence.
Jordan knocked, waited until she heard his crisp greeting, and then entered, the plate with the sandwich and a glass of orange juice in hand. She noticed right away that the study was disappoin
ting. There were only reference books on the shelves and a laptop on the desk. She kept looking around, however, because Cord seemed to fill up the room with his presence, and anything was better than looking at him.
She set the sandwich and the juice down at his side, and she would have left immediately if he hadn't seized her hand. Jordan choked off a startled cry, but she froze as she felt the way the heat from the mere touch of his hand seemed to course through her.
“You won't look at me anymore,” Cord said, his voice deep and demanding. “Why is that?”
Jordan, out of obstinate defiance, kept her eyes fastened on the carpet in front of her.
“Why should I want to look at you, sir?” she asked, aware that her tone barely fell short of insolence.
“Hmm. It's Cord,” he said, and she could tell from his tone that he was less than pleased with her manner. “I seem to remember saying that you should call me that before.”
“Did you, sir?” she asked. Jordan knew that she was courting trouble. She knew that the best and smartest thing to do would be to simply give him what he wanted so that she could scurry away. The fact that he already seemed to view her as something apart from the rest of the maids was bad enough. To get his attention, in general, would be courting disaster.
“I want you to call me by my name,” he said, and she couldn't help but shiver at the warmth in his tone. “Not so hard, is it? Not such a terrible thing to ask for?”
“I–I . . .”
Oh God, just say it and get out of here! That was her common sense talking, but for some reason, it was being overruled by her body.
“Sounds like you need to be convinced,” he murmured, and with a strength that she couldn't even begin to counter, he reeled her toward him. He stood behind her, and she gasped a little when Cord drew her flush against him. His body was as hard with muscle as she had learned in his bed, but now, even through the layers and layers of their clothes, she could feel his manhood pressed against the curve of her rear. The absolute proof of his desire made her feel almost lightheaded as if it had somehow changed things, made them more urgent.
However, if it had changed anything for Cord, she couldn't tell. His hands slid over her shoulders, trailing along her torso before sliding down her body to her hips. He pulled her back firmly against him as if to make sure that she knew of his desire, and then his hands swept up again.
Jordan squirmed as he lightly cupped her heavy breasts through her uniform top, squeezing gently just as he nibbled on her ear lobe. She was startled by the pleasure that came from the sharpness of his teeth against her sensitive skin there. It made her want to squirm away and to press closer for more.
"Such a beautiful little thing," he murmured. "So willful and fierce. You definitely have your own ideas of the way the world should look, don't you, little cat?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she murmured. "I should think that everyone does."
He laughed a little, and his breath and the sound right next to her ear made her shudder. In response, he kissed her on the sensitive skin behind her ear. Heat was coursing through her body, and it made her feel almost anxious, restless, like a horse that is kept back from running the way that she wished to do.
I want to run away, she thought desperately, but right now, in her heart of hearts, she knew that it wasn't true.
"I'm going to make you say my name," he growled. "You think you can hold out on me? You think that you can play this game better than I can?"
She wished she could say that she didn't think that at all, certainly not at this point, but then his hands were at the nape of her neck, finding her dress zipper. She made a soft mewling noise as he started to undo it, but contrary to her expectations, he didn't simply rip her dress open.
Instead, Cord took his time, zipping her dress down slowly, so slowly. He kissed every inch of flesh he bared, making her realize in excruciating surprise how sensitive the skin along her spine was. By the time he reached the end of the zipper, she was clenching and unclenching her fists against the sensations, all too aware that she was breathing hard.
With a fluid gesture, Cord brushed her dress off her shoulders, sliding it down past her hips and leaving it in a puddle on the ground. Belatedly, Jordan's arms came up to cover herself, but it was far too little, far too late. She felt like a little mouse caught running across the floor when a light had suddenly been turned on. Nothing had changed, but now she was seen, and that made all the difference.
She froze, and she could not help a small mewl of loss when Cord stepped back. She heard the creak as he sat down at his desk chair, and then after what felt like a ridiculously long time, he spoke.
"Turn around. I want to see you, Jordan."
Suddenly, it struck her that he would love it if she were shivering and nervous, all pale and wide-eyed. He was a powerful man, and he was probably used to people being overly impressed with him.
Well, not me, Jordan thought defiantly.
She let her arms drop to her sides, stood up straight, and stuck her chin in the air. Refusing to allow herself to be clumsy or hurried, she turned toward him, daring him to say anything. She knew how she looked. She had curves that the girls at school had mocked, and she was wearing a plain black bra and panties with the garter belt that she had to wear because the tights that they had given her kept rolling down. She was nothing like the supermodels that everyone knew that Cord Everett dated, and she refused to let him make her ashamed.
"Well?" she asked, and Cord shook his head.
"You really are something else, little cat," he said with a chuckle, but there was something different about it, she realized. There was a tremor to it, as if he was suddenly nervous or . . .
She didn't have long to think about what that little tremor might have meant because he was beckoning her to him.
"Come here," he said, and though she never quite understood it afterward, she obeyed.
Cord tugged her onto his lap, and when she settled on him nervously, he simply lifted her and rearranged her to his liking. Jordan wasn't a light girl, and she was impressed by how easy it was for him to simply lift her and pull her around exactly as he wished. He settled her so that she was sprawled over him, her legs spread so that they streamed down on either side of his, her back pressed against his chest. In this incredibly revealing position, she could feel his arousal pressed against her even more apparently, but more than that, she could watch as his hands swept up and down her bare body.
"Do you have any idea how much I want you?" he growled in her ear. "Do you have any idea at all how delectable you look sprawled out like this?"
She started to answer, but then he squeezed her breasts firmly with both hands, making her groan instead. She had never thought of her breasts as particularly sensitive before, but when Cord played with them, squeezed them, and took his time, she knew that they most certainly were.
"If I just shifted a little, slid your panties aside, and opened my trousers . . . do you know what we would be doing then?"
The heat of the moment made Jordan whimper, and she wasn't sure that she could stop him. She wasn't sure she wanted to. His hands moved from her breasts down to her thighs, caressing the soft flesh there with a surprisingly sweet touch.
"I don't think anyone's ever touched you just the way you should be touched before," Cord murmured. "I think that you have a lot to learn."
She started to ask what he thought she should learn, but then his hands were sliding her panties aside, finding the sensitive flesh there just as he had found it a few nights ago. This time, however, there was absolutely no hesitation from her body. A few nights ago, the sensations had been new and nerve-wracking, but now, she could feel herself brace for him. She could feel herself arch for the completion that she knew he could give her.
He worked her with a deliberation born of long practice, a skill that took her breath away. In a matter of minutes, Jordan was bucking up against his hands, begging with little whimpers and yelps for more.
; She was so close. She was on the verge of spilling over, and then he drew back one hand and landed a sharp little slap on her thigh.
"Oh!" she cried out, twisting her head to look at him. "I . . . I was . . ."
"You were close," Cord murmured, his voice warm in her ear. "You were close. What's my name?"
She almost said it. It was on the tip of her tongue, and then that damnable stubbornness came back and she stilled. She looked up at him with defiance, and instead of being angry, he only laughed.
"I hardly thought that you were going to give up so easily," he commented.
Jordan would have responded, but then he was touching her again, working her most sensitive parts and dragging her up to that red and shaking place again. She thought she was going to be able to come over the edge, but he stopped just short again. This time, he snapped her garters hard, hard enough to leave two faint red marks on her thighs.
"Oh, damn you!" she cried out, somehow remembering to stifle her voice from anyone passing in the halls. "Damn you!"
"And what's my name?" he asked, and when she refused to speak again, he only went back to work.
This time, she thought that she would defeat him. Her climax came roaring up even faster than it had the last two times. Surely, she would come regardless of what he did, but again, he seemed to know her body better than she did. He pulled back just in time to leave her shaking and gasping, and instead of smacking her thighs or snapping her garters, he pulled her hair back so that he could kiss her. There was a wildness to that kiss that she had never encountered before, and somehow, that reached her in a way that nothing else had yet. It was savage and long, as much teeth as lips, and when he pulled back, Jordan knew that there was nothing else she could do, no other way she could resist. She had nothing left.
"Cord," Jordan whispered achingly. "Cord, Cord, Cord."
The triumphant sound that Cord made was as much a growl as anything else, and he started touching her again. This time, there was no question of him stopping, and her climax roared upon her, wrapping her up so that it felt as if every muscle in her body was tensing up before being released. The pleasure struck her so hard that her vision whited out for a moment. She had no idea where she was or what was happening. All that mattered was the pleasure coursing through her and burning her to a cinder.
