He frowned. “But you are so young. You seem to be such a sweet, caring girl. I don’t want to give you the impression we shall have a grand romance.”
She laughed. “I should think the way you phrased the request fairly squelched any illusions of romance.”
“I just do not want any misunderstandings.”
That he should worry about a girl like her…None of her other lovers had troubled themselves too deeply over the matter of her heart. She scoffed. “Don’t worry. I do not long for any romances cluttering up my life.”
“Well, then.” He caressed her shoulders again. Awkwardness hung between them.
“David, I don’t expect anything further from you. I don’t even know who you really are.” She waited. He said nothing. She understood. They were nothing to each other but temporary lovers. There was no need for any formal introductions. In fact, it was better this way. She touched his face. “But I do want this. I want you.”
Though his fever was broken, his gaze blazed hotter. Something about this moment, about the look in his eyes, about the sudden elation in her heart, tugged at her. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments that she’d always read about but never believed in. She didn’t believe it now.
To chase the silly notion away, she laughed.
Something predatory flashed in his gaze. He locked his hand about her wrist. The suddenness of his action made her gasp. Arousal pulsed through her and she went limp. He took her wrists and pulled them behind her then transferred them to one hand.
Her heart warbled the space of a beat or two then sprinted into a dizzying tempo. He brought his mouth down on hers. His lips pressed hers, hard, demanding.
She was spinning inside, all her bones melting. Her legs buckled. He shifted their weight, supported her against his powerful frame. She opened to him and he plunged his tongue into her. He kissed her so deeply that she was drowning in it.
He broke the kiss and she gulped for air. With his pupils dilated, his eyes were dark and heavy-lidded. He released her wrists then grasped her by the shoulders and propelled her backwards.
She allowed it, stumbling along.
“Stop,” he said softly. She obeyed. He slid his hands down then plucked her shift upwards until she was bared to the waist. He lifted her.
Her bottom landed on something hard. The tabletop.
He touched her quim then slid two fingers into her slickness.
His groan was deep, rough.
He pushed her shoulders back and then placed his hands under her bottom and lifted her again, moving her body until her arse hung over the edge. The sense of being suspended in air tingled through her. His large hands spanned from her hip to the edge of her buttocks. He gripped her tighter and pulled her forward until his cock touched her entrance.
He thrust, entering her so fast, so hard that the head of his cock rammed the mouth of her womb. He stretched her. Filled her. A shock of delight rocked through her. Waves of pleasure radiated into her belly, through her legs, and down to her toes.
“Christ.” His word came out a harsh growl. He stared at her, fiercely, for a moment. Then his grasp tightened and he pumped in and out several times.
Pleasure blazed within her, exploding into shades of gold, silver, white. She couldn’t describe it any differently. Color had tone, texture and taste. How silly. Coherent thought wasn’t available to her. His thrusts rocked her. She heard a woman’s cries, loud, uncontrolled, panting.
“Please, please…David! Oh God, please…” She didn’t even understand what she wanted. She just wanted it and she realized that all the times before when she had pretended passion for others, she hadn’t the least clue what the real thing sounded or looked like.
He shifted his body until his lower pelvis touched her erect, straining nub. She gasped. Why had she never thought of that? She arched her back up off the table and ground herself, meeting each of his thrusts. He increased his speed and rocked her harder. She rolled her head on the tabletop. Her cries and pleas grew louder. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs tight on his waist. He went deeper, harder.
The motion triggered spasms that shook her to her very foundations. Violent pleasure exploded deep within her. A sense of completeness as she’d never known consumed her. She fell back on the table. Limp. Spent.
He gave a sound somewhere between a groan and a shout. He jerked himself from her body with such force it rocked her. Hot, surging seed spilled on her belly and his groans echoed in her ears. She closed her eyes as bliss consumed her.
David…
Her mysterious gentleman.
Her David.
God, she’d been born for this moment. She’d been so empty. She hadn’t realized just how very empty. Now he had filled her.
She would never, ever, be the same.
Sleepily, she perceived herself being carried then laid on the softness of her bed.
His kisses on her cheek wove in and out of her dream. Kisses on her lips, her neck, her breasts. Velvet moisture teased at her nipples. She moaned and writhed. He traced a trail down the center of her belly with his mouth, his tongue. Then lower. Her hips arched. He kissed her mons.
She sat halfway up and her eyes flew open.
He was naked now and his dark head lay between her legs.
Goodness, men really did do this…
He slid his tongue inside. Inside. Heated chills racked her. He widened his tongue, stretching her walls. She spread her hands upon the sheet at her sides, scratching her nails along the worn linen. He thrust in and out and sent her heart pounding with the pure thrill of it. Long moments passed. Her nub became erect, aching, longing for touch.
She began to thrash and writhe; she couldn’t help it. But he grasped her hips and held on while snaking his tongue up slowly, oh too slowly. Her bud throbbed and ached all the more. He finally touched it, just the barest flicker. She grasped his head with both hands and cried out. He put his mouth over that firm little protuberance and sucked. Actually sucked. She dug her nails into his scalp, pressed him as close as possible, and screamed.
He flicked her with his tongue, round and round in circles. Then he sucked her again. Penetrated her with two fingers. Spasms quaked through her. As they seized and released her, one after the other, she screamed convulsively.
She lay back, panting, with sweat rapidly cooling on her skin. Her throat was raw. Dear God. She’d never dreamed she could come apart like that.
The bed rocked and the old ropes creaked as he moved up until he was level with her. He smoothed back the hair that stuck to her face. “You are magnificent.”
He had just done something like that to her, yet he called her magnificent? She laughed, a hitching sound.
His erection throbbed against her. His eyes glittered with lust. No, perhaps more than lust. Passion. “Jeanne, I want something your other lovers might not have.”
“Well, I think I have done just about everything there is to do in a bed with a man.”
He laughed, the sound soft and sensual. “Somehow, I doubt you have.” He took her hand and drew it up to his mouth. But he did not kiss it. Instead he lifted it higher and placed his lips to her wrist.
Flutters filled her insides.
He traced his fingertip over the thin, sensitive skin of her wrist. “I want to bind your hands together.”
“Oh.” She was stunned. Surprised. Speechless.
Gentlemen can be naughty in the bedchamber. Knotty?
She remembered now hearing the women of the boarding house laugh about that. But seeing as she hadn’t had the occasion to lie with any true gentlemen, she hadn’t paid much attention.
“Will you trust me with something like that, Jeanne?”
Her mouth went dry. “Bind them?”
“Yes.”
“With what?” She hadn’t known her heart could beat so hard, so fast. Wetness began to flow from her cunt.
“With something gentle that will not leave a mark. Your stockings, perhaps?”
He wasn‘t jesting.
He was serious. Her mouth dried even more. She tried to wet it and swallowed. “You need this to continue to…to…perform?”
“No, I do not need it.” He flicked his tongue against her inner wrist, sending sparks of heat up her arm and into her chest to tighten her nipples.
She shuddered as shocks of anticipation raced through her. “You don’t need it?”
“But I want it, with you.”
“Why me?”
“Because I desire you very much.” He swept her with his gaze. “Too much. But you must consent fully that when we lie together in that bed, you shall be totally mine to do with as I will.”
“Will you hurt me?” Her own question startled her.
“Maybe just a little. I don’t know yet.” His touch on her hair, his tone were both gentle.
“You don’t know?”
“No.” He turned her palm up and traced his fingertip slowly over the lines and creases. “It will depend on how you respond.”
Shocks of fear exploded within her, only to be chased away by the most delicious euphoria. Her nipples became the tightest, most painful points. Her breath began to come in pants. She was a little dizzy.
“Jeannie, you must trust me. I won’t harm you. I just want play. I want to make you come, very hard.”
Why must he ask for this? Why did it arouse her? And why, oh why, was she actually considering it? Considering it? She was trembling with yearning. She had never trembled for any man before David.
“I just want to bind you, to have you completely at my control and perhaps I shall—”
“No, don’t tell me. Just do as you will.”
He locked his grip on her wrists once more. “You’re going to adore it.”
Her cunt clenched and wetness gushed. She had never felt it actually come in a gush like that before. It was followed by another and another. Melting warmth spread through her lower belly. She knew it immediately for what it was. Surrender.
He released her and left the bed. Then he returned with the belt to her wrapper.
He bent over her. “Here, stand.” He took her hands.
She let him pull her up from the bed. She stood uneasily on shaky legs. He caressed her arms then supported her as he walked her to the bedpost. He bent, took the hem of her shift and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her naked. He let his eyes travel slowly over her.
Gooseflesh raised all her body.
“My God, you are so damned gorgeous.” He ran a sweeping hand right over the soft, gentle swell of her stomach. “Breathe, sweeting.”
Jeanne let go the breath than had been burning her lungs.
He took her wrists, pulled them behind her then he wrapped the soft, slightly worn muslin strip around each of them. A few more gentle tugs.
“Pull, very hard,” he said.
She complied and found her hands securely anchored to the post. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her stomach and out her mouth.
“Shh,” he said, placing his hand over her mouth.
A shiver of pleasurable fear chased down her spine.
“You don’t want me to gag you.”
Gag her? Goodness, gentlemen certainly were knotty.
He was watching her speculatively. “Or do you?”
She shook her head. Moments passed. She became a little weary of standing there, tied to the post. A little chilly despite the blazing fire. And she felt very foolish. Too vulnerable. She supposed he still didn’t want her to speak and she had no wish to disrupt his pleasure so she raised her brows in speculation.
“I enjoy watching you like this.” He rubbed her upper arms, creating friction and heat over the gooseflesh. “What is it? Tell me.”
“Please, could you just do whatever it is you want to do?”
“Should we necessarily rush things?”
“I admit to being a little afraid.”
“That’s as it should be.” He ran the back of his hand over her shoulder, down the curve of her waist. Her nipples tightened painfully. Wetness flowed in a steady stream from her channel. “You have placed yourself into my keeping. I may now do whatever I wish. Any sane woman would be a little afraid.”
She swallowed against an increasingly dry throat.
“It arouses you?” He put a hand between her legs and delved his fingertips into her wetness. “Yes, it does. And no one played such games with you before?”
She shook her head.
“When you bathed me with the cool water, I came to my senses for a time. I could tell from the way you caressed me, the way you lingered unnecessarily over the task, that you were an uncommonly sensual woman.” He caressed his palm over her nipple. “I wanted from that moment onward to have you like this, helpless, vulnerable.”
He bent and put his mouth to her tightened peak. Wet warmth licked her. He barely touched her yet a wave of carnal fire consumed her. Her whole body tingled. He did it again and a stronger wave spread through her. Then he nipped her. Sharp pain followed by desperate, dark pleasure. She cried out and he repeated it. He drew her inflamed peak into his mouth and suckled her. She arched her back, leaning into his mouth.
He backed and a small grin softened the fierceness of his expression. “You do you like this, being bound.” He pinched her left nipple. “Now I wonder just how much you like it.”
He gave her nipple a firm twist, and pleasure went cascading down deep in her belly. He bent and put his mouth, wet heat, on her other nipple and flicked his tongue. He spent long moments like that, pinching, twisting, licking, kissing, and sucking her peaks.
Waves of that same deep pleasure swelled within her, tugging and pulling deep in her womb and then radiated all over. God. She was coming? Yes, maybe but it was a different type of coming than she’d ever known. Diffused all over yet intensely sweet. Too much to bear. The feelings were so peculiar—not a tightening and then releasing like normal coming, but an ever-expanding joy. She expanded herself with a soft radiance, like warmth. Like love. Encompassing him in her affection, like softness, like the clouds on a hot summer’s day.
The feelings ebbed.
Joy lingered. She laughed with it. She might love him.
She might love everything.
He kissed her cheek. His erection pressed her.
She definitely adored his erection. She wished, desperately, that her hands were free. She would grasp him, stroke him. Fall to her knees and suck him. Swallow him whole until he poured himself down her throat.
“You like being bound?”
She laughed, breathlessly. A little nervously. “I adore it.”
A pained expression tightened his features. “I have to fuck you.”
“Yes.”
“Now.”
“Yes, oh, yes.”
“Have you ever fucked standing?” His voice was low and wicked.
A thrill passed through her and she shook her head.
“It’s highly overrated.” He reached behind her and tugged on the bounds. “Go kneel on your bed for me.”
She pulled her arms and found herself freed.
He applied a slap to her buttock. “Go on now.”
She hurried to comply then glanced over her shoulder. He was directly behind her, standing on the floor. He put his hand on her head and pressed gently. A smile spread over her face as she pressed her head down to the mattress.
“Hold just like that.”
A familiar soft scrape sounded, the drawers to her little dresser being opened. She glanced over her shoulder. He was rifling her things. “What are you doing?”
“I told you not to move.”
“Oh, of course, my lord,” she said in a wry tone.
“Where are your stockings kept?”
“In the third drawer, second down. Whyever do you need my stockings?”
He didn’t answer; instead, he withdrew two of her old plain cotton stockings. She cringed inside. Goodness, they were certainly clean and well mended; however, she hadn’t realized how dingy their color had become. He turned and she pu
t her head down very quickly.
Why? Why had she felt that little frisson of fear? Fear that he might catch her disobeying his silly order to be still? It didn’t make sense, but she had been afraid and it had the most interesting effect upon her. Her arousal hitched several degrees. Waiting and wondering what he would do now was also the most enjoyable anticipation.
“Give me your hand.”
“What?” She needed her hands to balance in this rather vulnerable position.
“Just give it to me.” He reached and took her hand.
Bemused, and not just a little curious, she allowed him to draw her hand down. He nudged his knee against her leg. “Bend a little deeper here, sweeting.”
With her face and one shoulder bearing into the mattress, she tried to do what he wanted.
The softness of the cotton stocking caressed her ankles. He was tying them together.
He pulled her hand behind her back. What the devil? Did he intend to render her completely immobile? How was she supposed to balance herself?
“David?” She heard the uncertainty in her voice.
“Yes, sweeting?”
“What are you doing?”
“Shh.” He took her other hand.
She resisted. It was hard, being off balance as she was.
“What’s the matter, Jeannie?”
“Please, I asked you not to call me that.”
“Of course, Jeanne. Now tell me: what’s the matter?”
“I don’t think I like this.”
“Well, I am not done yet.”
Ha! How logical he made that answer sound. “I am really feeling a little uneasy. I am quite off balance here.”
“That is what will make it all so much more enjoyable.” He bent and placed a kiss on her nape. A shiver raced down her spine. “Now please, Jeanne, be a little more agreeable.”
With his tongue, he traced a sinful, seductive path from her nape to her ear. Wet warmth flicked her lobe. A thrill shot straight from there to her nipples and into her belly. How had he done that? She went weak all over. Her arm went slack.
He pulled her other hand behind her back. In quick order, he had secured her wrists together.
Her face was all but mashed into the featherbed and her weight pressed her shoulders and breasts flatter. Yet her arse was perched into the air. Not the most flattering presentation.
Her Mystery Duke Page 7
