by Alyson Chase
She gripped his hip and tried to keep up. Each plunge of his tongue was demanding, possessive. His heartbeat pounded against her chest, and excitement slid through her veins.
She might not mean forever to him, but in that moment, he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Reaching between them, she took hold of his length and stroked. The hand at the nape of her neck tightened. Pushing his chest into hers, Julius eased her back until she was lying on the bed.
He pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavy. “Roll over. On your hands and knees.” He arranged a pillow under her and pushed her down so her belly rested on it, her knees spread. Placing a hot open-mouthed kiss on each vertebrae of her spine, Julius slid down her body. “Don’t move,” he told her when he reached the base.
Amanda hugged the top of the pillow and waited for his return. Turning her head, she tried to follow his movements but only heard rustling behind her. The mattress sagged under his weight, and he crawled beside her.
Hemp scraped across the delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. The slight abrasion sent a shiver down her back. Tapping her hip, he urged her up an inch, far enough for him to slide the rope around her knee. He pulled the end tight, and Amanda’s elbow and knee were tugged together.
She rolled her shoulder, settling into the feeling of her unusual freedom.
Julius kissed her back. “All right?”
“Yes.” Already she felt coddled. Protected. Cool air licked between her folds, and her ache turned into throbbing need.
Binding her other arm and leg together, Julius ran a finger between the ropes and her skin. The cables were snug, but not tight. They did their job, keeping her immobile, and unaccountable. She could raise her head but nothing more.
“Have I told you how beautiful your skin looks against the purple hemp?” Julius asked. “Like I’ve captured my very own queen.” He trailed his fingers along the rope, from her elbows to her knees, and Amanda felt every faint vibration deep in her bones. He traced at the seam where cable met skin, around her thigh and up to the crease where her sex met her leg. He teased at her lower lips.
Amanda lifted her hips as far as the ropes allowed, trying to get him to touch her in the right place. He chuckled and kept his finger feather-light. “Julius,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.
“Why do you think I love tying you up, Amanda?” He grazed his fingers over her clit, so gently it felt like the kiss of butterfly wings dancing over her skin. “You look beautiful, yes. But when I have you secured as I want, you’re defenseless against me. I can torment you, toy with you as much as I want, with you unable to stop me. You’re completely open to me.”
He circled the tip of one finger at her opening, and she whimpered. She wanted to sink down on him so badly, force the contact.
“So damn wet.” He spread her slickness down her folds, and circled her nub. “But let’s get you a little bit wetter.”
Oil trickled over her lower back, rolling down her bottom. Julius smoothed his hands across her skin, rubbing the slickness in. He skimmed around her upper thigh and scissored his fingers around her clit with his left hand. Laying his right hand on her lower back, Julius slid his thumb between her cheeks and circled her opening.
The twin sensations made her shudder. She rocked her hips back and forth, settling into his rhythm. The pressure on her nub increased and waves of pleasure built, one on top of the other until she was about to break.
Julius removed his hand.
More oil drizzled across her back. Julius rubbed her thighs and calves and worked his way up to knead her bottom. Her muscles slowly released, and she sagged against her bonds.
He slid his left hand down between her thighs and flicked her clit. His thumb danced around her back entrance, never penetrating, only succeeding in making her body scream to be filled.
Julius eased his right thumb between her cheeks. He slicked the oil around the ring of muscles, over and over, and all of her nerve endings sparked. For a feeling that had started out so strange when Julius first touched her there, the sensation was quickly becoming one of her favorites. She climbed towards the crest of her wave, panting with need, and Julius dropped his left hand. Again.
She almost cried. “Why?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He also hadn’t stopped circling her back ring with his thumb. “When I press into you, I want you so desperate for relief that you’ll beg me to take you, any which way.” The tip of his thumb pushed past her muscles, and she tensed. He flicked a finger against her nub. “I know why you like being bound. Once you’re in my hands, at my mercy, you know there’s no use fighting. You don’t have to worry whether something is right or proper. Sensible or wanton. It just is. So, relax into my touch, and accept.”
The taps against her nub quickened in pace. Sweat rolled from her hairline down into the coverlet. Amanda’s whole body felt as though it were shaking apart. Only the ropes held her together. She was so close, but she'd never felt so empty. Her core clenched at nothing, weeping with frustration.
“Julius, please.” She wasn’t above begging. Not if it would get her relief.
His finger slid inside her, oil making the passage easy. A second finger joined it, and Julius slickened her inside and out.
He slowed the finger at her clit, and Amanda used the coverlet to muffle her scream. Julius pulled his fingers from her opening. Just as slowly, he pushed back in, but this time the intrusion was much larger.
“Easy,” Julius murmured. He reached around her hip and stroked her clit again. “Just relax. Don’t fight it.”
Amanda bit the inside of her cheek. It burned. And not in the pleasant way like when Julius dragged the rope across her skin or when the ginger oil met her sensitive flesh.
Thank God he hadn’t used that oil tonight.
Just as slowly, Julius pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained lodged inside her. Only to start the process again.
She writhed in pleasure from his finger at her clit, even as she shied from his invasion.
The next stroke Julius burrowed deep, and she felt so full she thought she might burst. When he bottomed out, she couldn’t help the squeak of distress that escaped her lips.
He dug his fingers into the flesh at her hip. “Relax, my sweet. Trust me. This will feel good.”
He retreated. He pressed in. Each time she tried to keep from crying out. Did this feel good to Julius? Because it certainly wasn’t doing anything for her. It was too much. He was too big.
But he’d asked her to trust him. The bindings at her elbows and knees kept her secure. For that alone she was thankful. And she’d received her wish. She could feel every excruciating inch of him. His cock was hot and slick and so smooth it felt like he was covered in satin instead of that horrid linen. She tried to imagine him in her other channel, how good his bare length would feel there.
Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was being torn in two.
Buried deep inside of her, Julius paused. He kept his hips still and circled her clit. It helped, but she couldn’t ignore the pain.
So, she focused on the good. The tingles bubbling to life with each pass of his fingers. How close she felt to Julius in that moment. There was nothing between them. All their cards had been laid out. She knew where she stood with him, what she could expect. And he understood her better than anyone. Cared for her, in his own way, more than anyone else ever had, barring her sister.
So, if this one act—she ground her teeth together as he started to move again—if this one act gave him pleasure, she’d bear through it. She was accustomed to suffering in silence. She could do it again, now, for this man.
He pulled out, and she reveled in the reprieve. It was temporary. He’d be driving back in, steady and relentless. But the absence of pressure became its own pleasure.
He groaned as he slid back in. Amanda tensed her shoulders, waiting for the burn. It came, but more muted than before. A small tingle slipped into the
place of that missing pain.
On the next slow plunge, the tingle dominated. Nerve endings she hadn’t even known existed flared with pleasure.
She tried to wiggle into it, to chase the feeling deeper. Her bindings wouldn’t allow it, so she sagged into the bed. Her only obligation at the moment was to feel. She didn’t have to worry about anything more.
Julius moved both hands to her hips, controlling her movements completely. She’d allowed this man to wrap her up like a bow, and each slow stroke unraveled her piece by piece.
The last bit of tension seeped from her body. She gave up the final illusion of control. When he bottomed out again, she couldn’t contain the small cry of pleasure.
***
Amanda wasn’t enjoying this. A bead of sweat gathered at Julius’s temple and trickled to his jaw. It landed on her upturned rump.
Julius bit back a groan. By the gods, her arse was magnificent. Pert, with padding in just the right places. And bound as she was, it was offered up perfectly for his fucking pleasure.
He’d dreamed of tupping this arse. And now he was there, sliding through the tight, erotic channel. He almost cried like a babe at the exquisite pleasure. His body screamed at him to pound into her, find its release.
But she wasn’t enjoying it.
So, he kept the pace slow, gentle, knowing he could do damage to her sensitive flesh. The turtle’s pace was killing him, but not as much as the tight bunching of her shoulders, her tiny mewls of distress.
If he didn’t care for her so damn much, those little squeaks would be cute. As it was, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He knew women could enjoy this act with some training, but Amanda had already had so much pain in her life. He couldn’t take being the cause of more of it.
Burrowing his fingers into the soft skin at her hips, he grunted and pulled out until only his crown remained snug in her arse. He would stop.
He eased back in, and fire raced along his cock. Right after this stroke, he would pull out. His balls pressed against her arse, and a small sound from Amanda caused his head to snap up. That hadn’t sounded like pain.
Slowly, too slowly for his demanding cock, he withdrew to his tip then slid his way back into heaven. He watched Amanda’s reactions all the while.
And there it was. That moment when a woman’s whimper of distress transformed into a moan of pleasure. The best fucking moment in the world.
A little faster, he retreated and plunged. Her body went completely limp and a throaty little groan escaped those pink lips.
Halle-fucking-lulah. She was there with him. He trembled in relief. He didn’t have to stop. His shoulders tensed, and the need to piston his way to oblivion almost overwhelmed him. But he could still hurt her, tear her delicate skin, so he clamped down on his control.
Julius focused his gaze on the pucker where his cock disappeared into her body. The sight alone almost made him come. Her creamy skin was flushed pink and looking as dewy as a rose in the morning’s mist. He ran his fingers around the ropes, making sure her skin wasn’t pinched. The tips of his fingers scraped along the hemp and then were soothed by the silky softness of her skin. Grabbing the cables at her knees, he jerked her onto his cock.
They moaned together.
Dropping his head back, he stared at the canopy, his eyes glazing over. Nothing had ever felt so good. And no one had ever submitted so sweetly to his ropes. After all that Amanda had borne, the fact that she trusted him with her body, with her pleasure, would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there.
He pulled out to his head and looked back to where they joined. His cock was dark purple and thick with veins, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He pounded harder, and his balls knocked against her lower lips.
She mewled and dug her fingers into the counterpane. Tension gathered between her shoulder blades, but Julius knew this time it was from anticipation. Each slap of skin on skin dragged a whimper from her mouth. She strained against the rope, trying to match his pace.
“Don’t fight it.” The words were strained, and he forced them out of his parched throat. “I’ll get you there. Don’t worry.” Bending, he kissed the nape of her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin.
His thrusts became jerky, his body past control. Instinct took over, and he drove into her, over and over. One hand at her shoulder and one at her hip, he took and gave in equal measure.
Amanda’s arse twitched around his cock. Her skin flushed and heat rolled off of her. Her crisis was nearing, but he needed her to get there now. He was so close and couldn’t leave her behind. He slipped his hand around her hip and circled the spot she needed.
She arched her back and the ropes snapped taut. “Julius,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop. Please God, don’t stop.”
His throat tightened along with the rest of his muscles and he couldn’t reassure her. Words were beyond him. But there was no way in hell he would stop. His balls pulled close to his body. A tingle started low at the base of his spine, and he resisted the spiral towards oblivion.
He tried to loosen his grip at her shoulder, knowing his fingers bit into her skin, but his hand wasn’t obeying his mind. He yanked her into his thrusting hips, shaking with denied need.
His finger faltered at her nub, the circular motion too complex for a brain that had gone black. He pinched down, hard, and prayed.
Amanda opened her mouth on a silent scream. Her whole body convulsed. The muscles surrounding him clamped down, and Julius could hold out no more.
A sound he didn’t recognize tore from his throat, something primitive, elemental. Her arse gripped him so tightly he couldn’t thrust through his orgasm. Could only rock into her channel. Pulse after pulse of his seed was ripped from his cock until he thought he’d never be able to come again. With one last twitch, he collapsed over her, completely spent.
Their chests rose and fell as one. The skin of her back was hot and damp against his stomach and chest. He buried his nose in her hair and let the scent of her heat and lavender soap flood his senses.
“Are we still alive?” Amanda asked, a shaky laugh in her voice.
Julius didn’t know and didn’t care. As long as he was with her, he was happy.
His muscles felt like dough, and there were other parts of him he didn’t feel at all. But rope still bound Amanda, so he forced himself up. With one hand on her lower back and the other gripping the base of his cock, he eased from her channel.
Her arsehole winked at him, his come slipping from the opening and rolling down to her cunny. The sight was almost enough to make him hard again.
Untying his ropes, he stretched Amanda out, making sure her skin pinked, rubbing away any soreness. He went to the pitcher of water on his nightstand, wet a rag, and cleaned them both. She was boneless beneath his hands, her eyes closed to narrow slits.
“I love your hands on me.” Her words were slurred with fatigue. “And I loved feeling you release inside of me.”
Was that all she loved? Julius pulled the coverlet over her and tugged her into his side. He held her tight, knowing that made it easier for her to drift off.
He watched as her breathing evened out, as her head fell to the side. He watched her until the fire sputtered in its grate and burned out.
Something had changed between them, and life had just become complicated. He knew this, but his mind was blank when it came to what needed to be done about it.
Marriage was the obvious solution. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Being bound to one woman, even one as wonderful as Amanda, wasn’t something he could bear. And children he would need to protect from harm? There was a war going on with those upstart Americans. Two wars really, if one considered that the cessation of hostilities with France was likely to end at any moment. How was a man supposed to ensure his family’s safety in wartime?
His own father hadn’t been able to save Julius. Not with all his money or his diplomatic connections. Julius had been left to rot. His pulse raced, and Ju
lius tried to rein in his anger.
And it was anger. He’d never realized how much he’d blamed his father for not rescuing him. His friends had traveled to Japan, risking their lives and readying to break him free from his prison while his father had sat behind his desk and written letters.
Julius knew his father had loved him. The man must have been desperate. But the idea of leaving England to go search for his son wouldn’t have crossed his mind. By the time Julius had returned, his father was too sick to confront.
Sleep tugged at his eyelids, making them heavy. In a minute, he’d get up and go to the library to catch a couple hours sleep on the settee. In a minute, the feel of Amanda’s arms wrapping around him would make his skin itch. But he wanted a few more moments of holding her.
His last thought before drifting to sleep was that if he ever did have children, there would be no land too far that he wouldn’t travel to save them.
Chapter Nineteen
Julius balled the newspaper and chucked it at the fireplace. It fell short by several feet. The bloody bastard. He had no right to say such things about Amanda. The Marquess of Hanford was in sore need of a lesson in manners.
Lacing his fingers behind his head, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling of the library. Amanda was a floor above, snuggled up in his bed. He didn’t know if she was tired, or if she were coming down ill, but she’d shown no interest in rising that morning. He’d thought of calling for the doctor, but knew there was a chance he’d exhausted her the night before. He’d used her in ways in which she wasn’t accustomed, and she needed rest.
Now he almost hoped she did come down with a slight cold. Anything to keep her safely tucked in bed and away from the papers.
Someone scratched at the library’s door, and it swung wide. A footman stepped through, followed by Max. The footman bowed. “My lord. You said to show the Baron of Sutton in when he arrived.”
