Silk Scarves and Seduction

by Shiloh Walker

  Her knees buckled and she fell back against the island, the strong hands at her waist steadying her. “Puh-puh-pictures? What pictures?” she stammered. Then her brain started to whirl and she locked on something else. Her smell? He liked the way she smelled.

  “Hmmm, naughty pictures. Very naughty. I got some more just the other day, and this scarf was used in them. I really like this scarf. Something about red lace. And those pictures… Hell, I think I damn near came just looking at them.” He brushed his lips against her ear, his words a soft rumble, and Valery shuddered, the picture that brought into her mind turning her insides to molten lava. Her womb clenched and her knees buckled—if he hadn’t been supporting her with his body, she would have puddled to the floor bonelessly.

  He started to move his mouth down her neck, his hot breath moving the wisps of hair that clung there. “Care to tell me about them, Blush?” he drawled. Then he traced a damp, hot trail down her neck, nudging the side of her shirt out of the way with his chin.

  “Pictures are visual representations of images painted, drawn, photographed, or otherwise rendered on a flat surface,” she said lamely, her mind shutting down on her. “Want to hear the history of the photograph as well?”

  He grinned widely at her. “I’d like to hear the history of these particular photographs, babe. How you did them, why I got them…”

  “Ah…why do you think I know anything about the pictures, Marc?” she asked roughly, even though her mind was screaming that she just tell him. Damn it, the gig was up. She was caught.

  But what if he was just playing with her?

  “C’mon, Blush…I knew it was you the moment I caught your smell on the scarf. I could recognize you blindfolded, out of a room of hundreds of other women. A thousand. Your smell. Damn it, the way you smell has seduced me for years,” he muttered gruffly, bracing her with an arm behind her back and bending over her. From under his lashes, he studied her, his gaze searing hot. “Do you know I watched you slide out of your clothes?”

  Her face flushed and she realized, mortified, that her shirt was still hanging open, and he was spreading it apart, baring the mounds of her lace-covered breasts.

  “Marc, what are you doing?” she whispered.

  “I’m going to see you naked. You teased me with those pictures and now damn it, I’m going to see you completely naked, completely open, and then I’m going to kiss and stroke every inch of your body,” he growled. Staring at her with hooded eyes, red flags of color riding high on his cheeks, his chest started to move harshly as his breathing picked up.

  He was serious…wasn’t he?

  “What?” she demanded, her eyes wide.

  He was serious. She was pretty sure he was serious.

  “And then I’m going to fuck you the way I’ve been wanting to for years,” he whispered, sliding up her body and slanting his mouth across hers, driving his tongue deep.

  Oh, yeah. He was serious. He tasted her thoroughly, more thoroughly than any other man had ever done, making love to her mouth, eating at her, feasting on her. If she hadn’t already been aroused, that kiss alone would have made her more turned on than ever in her entire life.

  His tongue possessed her mouth, while his hands supported her waist, one knee wedged between her quivering thighs. Valery clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard ridge of muscle as she rocked back and forth on his thigh, riding him hungrily without even realizing.

  But damn it, he did. Marc had been afraid he would show up here and she would laugh at him—that those pictures had just been another of her successful attempts at making him miserable. In this case, showing him something gorgeous that he would never, ever have.

  But then, he had stepped forward and seen half-terrified, half-shocked arousal on her face, had smelled it on the air, and seen in the soft flush of her body, and the peaking of her nipples under the stiff white shirt she had worn.

  And now he was losing it—his control over his body, his control over his mind. That long, lush, pale body that he had been dying for a taste of for years…all spread out like a banquet.

  Literally, now.

  Because he had just boosted her up onto the island and arched her back, caressing the pebbled nipples spearing through the white lace as he pushed her thighs apart, revealing her lace-covered cleft.

  “Why, Blush?” he whispered, kissing a line down the panel of lace that stretched over sweetly rounded hips.

  “Huh?” she mumbled. Her eyes were glassy, and that berry-pink mouth was wet from her own tongue, and swollen from his mouth and from where she had bitten it. “Huh?”

  “Why did you send me those pictures?” he asked patiently, working ever closer to the heart of her.

  “I…I just wanted to,” she said weakly, arching her hips up and twining her fingers through his hair.

  “No other reason?” he asked, feeling a little disappointed. “You do that a lot? Send pictures of that sweet, naked body of yours to guys, make them hotter than hell, just because you want to?”

  A frown pursed that pretty mouth and the cloud of lust fogging her sparkling brown eyes cleared just a little. “No. You’re the first,” she said shortly, her hands falling away from his hair and pushing on his shoulders instead. “Get off of me, Marc.”

  “No…no, I don’t think so,” he murmured, catching her hands and pinning them gently beside her head. “I want to hear more about why you decided to send me the pictures, why you decided to torment me like that, why you wanted to drive me out of my mind.”

  He laughed, lowering his head to stroke his tongue over the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh before he murmured, “Damn, if only you knew. You see, you’ve been driving me crazy for years anyway. And then you decide to start toying with me like that. You could have killed me.”

  Then he lowered his mouth between her thighs and blew a puff of air on her before placing his mouth against the white lace and kissing her through it, working through the weave of lace with his tongue for a moment, shuddering at the sweet, spicy taste of her. Closing his mouth around her clit, he sucked gently and a satisfied groan left him as she cried out, tugging against his hold, trying to free her hands.

  He tightened his grip, lacing his fingers with hers. She in turn laced her fingers with his and tightened her grip, her nails biting into his hands as she screamed out his name.

  Her thighs wrapped around his head and her heels pressed against the back of his head as she worked her lace-covered cleft harder and harder against him. He pulled back long enough to wrench his hand free from her desperate grip, pull her panties aside and then spread the slick, dewy-wet slit with his fingers, piercing her with his tongue, stiffening it as she started rocking up and down, fucking her hungry little body up and down against his mouth with short, eager lifts of her hips.

  He speared two fingers inside her and shuddered at the tight grip of her pussy on his flesh. Damn it, she was tight—tight and hot—her taste was just too addictive. Groaning, he moved up and caught her clit with his teeth, flicking the captured bud with his tongue. He plunged his fingers deep inside the honeyed walls of her pussy and listened as she screamed out his name as she came, the hand he had freed clenched in his hair.

  Lifting up, he levered his body over hers and stared down at her. Her face was flushed and damp, tears staining it. Damn, Marc knew he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Lowering his mouth, he kissed her, cradling her head in his hands, and reveling in her response, in how she didn’t pull away from him, even though the taste of her was on his lips.

  Stroking his tongue over hers, across the roof of her mouth, the inside of her cheeks and the smooth, pearly surface of her teeth, he searched out every part of her mouth, tasted everything before pulling back to nibble at her lower lip, down her chin, along her jawbone, and up to her ear. Biting down on the fleshy part of her earlobe, he whispered roughly, “Damn it, Blush, you taste better than any other woman I’ve ever kissed in my life, you know that?”

 
Against his neck, where her cheek pressed, he could feel the heat of the blush that raced up from her chest to her neck, until her entire face was suffused with it. He grinned, lifting up and staring down at her, delighted with her. “Telling you that you taste good makes you blush, but me having my head between your thighs didn’t do it,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her up against him.

  She blushed harder and turned her head aside, pushing at his chest.

  Lowering his head, he caught her cheek, turning her to face him. “What if I tell you that I’m dying to do it again? To kiss you from your sweet mouth, down to your even sweeter pussy, all the way down to your toes, and back up again? And I know every last inch will taste just as sweet…”

  Her face burned bright red and she mumbled, “Then you obviously have no idea what I’ve been doing today. I’ve been sweating like a pig and there’s no way every last inch will taste sweet.”

  He laughed and argued, “I think it will.” Lowering his face to her neck, he breathed in the scent of her body lotion, the scent of her, the light scent of female sweat, and felt the punch of hunger hit him hard.

  Against his chest, her nipples felt tight and swollen, dark pink and just begging for him to taste, just barely hidden behind the lace of her bra. “Damn it, I could eat you up,” he growled, lowering his head to stroke one with his tongue.

  “You already did,” she reminded him with a cheeky grin. The grin died away in a gasp as he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled.

  “Hmmm. Now it’s time for dessert,” he crooned as he pulled back and drew her down, watching as she wobbled on her feet. Her eyes dropped away and Marc lifted her face back to his with a finger under her chin. “I want to take you to that big bed you have upstairs and spread you out and make love to you, Blush,” he said softly. “And to be honest with you, that’s been a fantasy of mine for years.”

  “Ahhh…well, I’d hate to deny a man his fantasy,” she said, licking her lips, staring up at him with wide eyes, as though she didn’t entirely believe he was there.

  Arching a brow, he asked, “Is that the only reason you’ll do it?”

  “No,” she murmured. Reaching up, she laid one finger against his lips as she rose up on her toes and whispered against his ear, “I’ve thought about it once or twice myself.”

  “Well, hot damn,” he teased, scooping her up against him and slanting his mouth against hers. Whirling, he pinned her against the cold metal of the stainless steel fridge, laughing as she yelped when her heated flesh came in contact with the cold surface.

  “I’m going to take my time with this,” he muttered against her mouth, the laughter dying from his eyes. “Damn it, Blush, I’ve dreamed about this for years. I’m gonna lay you down and kiss every last inch of you—I’m going to worship this long, lovely body and you’ll never want another man by the time I’m done with you.”

  And I’ll make damn sure you love me as much as I love you before this is all over and done with. Marc knew love didn’t happen overnight. But he wasn’t planning on this being just one night. She had opened the door with those photographs.

  He had been waiting for years for her to give him some slight indication, some window. Now that he had it, damned if he’d walk out.

  Chapter Six

  Valery was shaking.

  Marc’s words had her trembling inside and she was too worried she’d stammer if she said a damn thing, so she didn’t bother. As he drew her back up against him for a soft, gentle kiss, she felt tears sting her eyes.

  Who knew…who ever could have guessed that the smart-assed, wisecracking man who had tormented and driven her crazy for more than half of her life could possibly be so devastatingly tender?

  The lean, strong body felt so right against hers, just like she had always imagined it would. She twined her arms around his neck, whimpering as she kissed him, feeling his cock jerk against her belly. Her pussy clenched and she shuddered. Damn it, she wanted to feel him inside her, so bad it damn near hurt.

  When he pulled back, a bemused smile curved her lips as he took her hand and led her upstairs. Once inside her room, he left her standing by the bed as he opened the curtains, whispering, “I want to see the moonlight on your body, in your eyes.”

  That man’s a damn poet, she thought, feeling her throat tighten as she watched him go around the room, opening the curtains on every last set of windows, four in all. The floor to ceiling windows soon flooded the room with the silvery light of the full moon. He went over and switched off the bedroom light, turned, and just stood by the doorway.

  She heard him sigh as he murmured, “Damn it, you are beautiful.”

  Laughing nervously, Valery said, “I’m passably pretty. But there’s nothing beautiful about me.”

  “I’m the observer here. You’re in that body. You don’t see what I see—what I’ve always seen,” he said easily, his smile a white flash in his shadowed face as he drew closer. She licked her lips with nervous anticipation as he drew something from his pocket. It was too dark to make it out, other than a dark color, but she already knew what it was. The red scarf.

  He laid it across her shoulder, open so that it covered one breast, and then he lifted her up against him, swift and hard, her feet leaving the ground. His head swooped down and his lips closed over the tip of her lace-covered breast, sucking it roughly into his mouth, drawing it deep, releasing, draw and release, over and over again, until she was writhing in his arms and whimpering, wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding her cleft against his still covered erection.

  “Hmmm,” he purred with satisfaction when she was covered with sweat and trembling in his arms. “That is what I’ve been dying to do to you for a damned month, you know that, Blush?”

  Then his hand landed on her ass with a hard thwack and she yelped. “And that,” he finished. “You drove me damn near out of my mind, trying to figure out what you were up to.”

  “Ummm…sorry?” she squeaked.

  He laughed as he lowered her to her feet, urging her onto the bed, leaving the damp lace of the scarf and her bra to chill around the erect nipple as he lowered his head to pay attention to her neglected breast, suckling that nipple deep, his fingers kneading the flesh skillfully.

  “No, you aren’t,” he said agreeably, pulling back to admire how her lush body looked in the moonlight. “But since this is where it landed me, I guess it’s okay.”

  The silvery light gleamed on the dips and planes of her body and he grinned as he caught sight of a glinting navel charm. Closer inspection revealed a tiny silver dragon. “You know the doctor in me tells me I ought to scold you for this,” he teased, flicking it lightly. As he dropped to his knees and caught the charm in his teeth, tugging gently, he continued, “But it’s so damn sexy, the man in me just loves the hell out of it. I’d hate to be a hypocrite—so I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”

  With his hands at her ass, he guided her down to straddle his hips. Cuddling her against him, he groaned as she moved her hips against his cock. Damn it, she was so wet, so hot, he could feel it through his jeans. He whispered, “I want so badly to get inside you, but I know the minute I do, I’m going to come. I’ve waited too long for it to be over that fast.”

  “Well…nobody said we’ve only got the one time,” she said, her cheeks flaming.

  “Hmmm. Damn. I love that blush of yours. Never could figure out why you do it so easily, but I hope you never get over it,” he murmured, his fingers grazing the pinkened flesh just above the lace of her bra where the blush started. “And I’m awfully glad to hear that you don’t plan on this being a one-time occurrence—but I plan on it being a first time that you won’t ever forget.”

  “I can pretty much guarantee that already.”

  Marc felt the hot flood of satisfaction raging through him as her voice quivered. That trademark blush of hers, she’d never learned to control that sign of her body’s reaction. But he knew she had mastered other signs of her body’s upheaval l
ong ago, from the quickening of her breathing when she was flustered, to modulating her voice, to knowing when to use scathing sarcasm or ice-cold disdain.

  She no longer had that control over her body. He had made her forget that and he loved it. Trailing the tips of his fingers along the side of her thigh, he smiled when he felt them quiver. “I love looking at your body,” he whispered. “It’s harder than hell when you come into the office, to act like you irritate the hell out of me, when all I want to do is salivate and worship at your feet.”

  Cupping her shoulders in his hands, he arched her back and pressed a line of kisses down the center of her chest. He pulled the scarf away from her breasts and let it fall in a lacy puddle to the floor, kissing along the mound of her breast with butterfly kisses, dancing away from the budded nipple, even when she fisted her hands in his hair and tugged him closer.

  He kissed his way to the front clasp of her bra and there, with a twist of his teeth and a sharp jerk of his head, the clasp opened and her breasts swung free, surprising a giggle out of her. “Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.

  “Practice,” he said solemnly, staring up at her. “Lots and lots of practice.”

  “I bet,” she gasped, and then she groaned when the tip of his devilish tongue snaked out, stroked her nipple and then went back to biting at the underside of her breast gently—soft, gentle little darts of sensation—as he left her nipple throbbing and aching for his attention.

  Much like her aching core.

  Her clit was pulsating. Damn it, she could probably take her heartbeat just by the throbs resonating from her clit. Cream drenched her, more thoroughly, she was certain, than ever before. Valery knew she hadn’t ever been this turned on.

  And then he grabbed that damned scarf again. At the same time, he finally closed his teasing mouth over her nipple, drawing hard, deep and fast, he took her hands and tugged them behind her, looping the scarf around her wrists quickly and easily, securing them with the scarf and tugging it tight. Valery’s breath caught when she realized she couldn’t tug her hands free.