by Luna Doerr
“Alaric,” she whispers.
When I feel her body begin to tremble in my hands, I open my eyes to watch the beautiful sight of Caterine consumed by pleasure. I know I’m supposed to pretend to be asleep, but at the moment I really don’t want to be Charles.
I want to see every minute of this, want to catch that glimpse of desperation on Caterine’s face right before she buries her face in my shoulder and her hips begin to buck uncontrollably against me. The sight is more than I can handle.
“Oh,” she moans into my skin as the wet heat of my orgasm seeps through my pants. “Oh.”
When her body stops quivering in my arms, I roll out from beneath her and strip off my wet pajamas. Then I climb back into bed and enfold her in my arms again, my softening erection nestled against the curve of her ass.
Has any women ever fit this perfectly in my arms? No is the last thought to float through my mind as I join Caterine in sleep. No.
Charles began slipping into Erica’s room at night, after she was asleep. He ran his fingers through the silken waves of her hair, kissed the nape of her neck—warm and soft—and caressed her breasts through her sleep shift until she woke. The first night, he had fully expected her to say “no,” to turn him down flat. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had allowed him to run his hands beneath her clothing and to part her thighs with his. He ran his fingers through her velvety folds until she was wet and ready, then he took her from behind, gently pushing his cock inside her. She was so tight, tighter than he had realized she would be. His heart swelled at the knowledge that he was the only man to be here, to be inside her, to have the right to give her this pleasure. He was patient and gentle, never rough or hurried the way he was at the brothel. And while he never took her face to face, he hoped his tenderness and patience in bringing her to orgasm before he took his own conveyed his love and desire to her.
35
Caterine
I awake to the sensation of Alaric’s hands roving over my breasts, my stomach, my hips—and I want him immediately. It would be torture if he merely gave me an orgasm with his hands. I want to feel him inside me.
He’s been denying me that since we met and I crave it. I want to feel him filling me up, moving inside me, breaking apart in ecstasy.
I relax into his arms, push my ass back into his erection. I feel him shift behind me, then feel the head of his cock nuzzled between my legs. Neither of us say a word as he grips my hips and pushes inside me.
God, it’s glorious. He’s long and thick and I feel every inch of him as he slides in and out. He reaches his hand around and circles my clit with his finger, bringing me to orgasm twice before he releases his own into me.
Afterward, he pulls me tight against his chest and kisses my hair.
“Are we working right now?” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” is his reply. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
36
Caterine
By the time I dress and get down to Alaric’s office, the door is closed. My hand is on the doorknob when I hear him arguing with someone inside. At first I think he’s arguing with Sim. He said everything is fine between them but I’m not so sure. Is it really that easy for guys?
I’m not hearing Sim argue back though, and Sim isn’t the type of guy to just stand there and take shit from Alaric. I turn away from the door and start back toward the kitchen. Alaric is probably on the phone, maybe with his agent or publisher. Maybe I’m slowing down his writing too much.
I’m pouring a cup of coffee when I hear the office door open. A minute later, Alaric appears.
“I’ve left some manuscript pages on your desk to proof. I’ll be down later,” he says curtly.
And like that, he’s gone, leaving me wondering what just happened in his office. A feeling of dread takes hold in my chest. I’m not right for this job. I’ve been kidding myself to think otherwise.
Maybe I should just pack up my things and go. He can always find someone else to help him finish the book. It doesn’t sound like he ever had much trouble finding willing “assistants” in the past.
I take my coffee into the office, close the door and proofread his pages. By the time I’m done, he still hasn’t returned so I pull out my cell and call Zoe. I should have called her sooner to let her know I’m okay.
“Hey girl!” Zoe answers on the first ring. “How’s all the hot sex?”
I feel myself relaxing a little. It’ll be good to talk to Zoe.
“Um, hot?”
“Is everything okay?” Zoe asks.
“Yeah. Yeah. It’s, you know, a lot. Of work.”
Zoe’s laughter cackles on the other end. “I bet. Are they treating you right? Are they sitting naked in front of you right now?”
That makes me laugh, too. “No. Um, Alaric is upstairs. I’m in the office alone right now, proofreading.”
“Proofreading?”
“The job’s not all sex.”
“What about the other guy? The sex god?”
“Oh yeah. Um, I’m not having sex with him anymore.”
“Why not?”
“He’s, uh, a little too big for me.”
Zoe snorts. “Size matters, baby!” Then, “So how long are you going to be up there?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s under pressure to get the book done quickly and …”
“And what?”
“And I’m not sure I’m really working out for him. On the sex end.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Maybe I’m reading more into it than I should. He’s a little moody, and he has some family thing going on. His father is sick.”
“Moody? If he’s having sex with you, he should be singing and dancing all day long. Doesn’t he know how picky you’ve been with men?”
I laugh again. I can always count on Zoe to lift my mood. “I think it was more that men were too picky for me.”
“Nonsense,” she says. “Hey I’ve gotta go. My break is up. Don’t wait so long to call me again, girl.”
“I won’t.” And we hang up.
I return to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Still no sign of Alaric. None of Sim, either.
I carry the coffee back to my desk and reread the last pages Alaric wrote, wondering what Erica might do next. Charles is confusing her, coming to her room at night but refusing to make love to her like a husband and wife really should. If Erica was like most women, she’d call a friend or a sister to hash it out.
The maid brought in tea while Erica wracked her brain for a graceful way to broach the topic with her sister, Patience. Fortunately, her forward sister took the reins.
“So how are things now that Charles is back?” Patience poured tea for both of them. “Are you with child yet?” Patience waggled her brows at Erica.
Erica blushed, of course. “Well … I wanted to ask you about that. You know, I don’t have much experience in those matters …”
Patience set down her tea cup and clapped her hands together. “Oh heavens, Erica! We should have discussed this sooner. Right when he got home. Why didn’t I think to come over sooner? What do you need to know?”
“Well, if it isn’t too personal … what sort of things does William like? You know …”
“In bed?”
Erica nodded, blushing furiously again. “I mean—“ she blurted out the words. “William doesn’t go to a brothel, does he?”
“Not any more,” her sister answered. “Before we married, of course. Men have needs.” She winked at Erica.
“But what goes on at the brothels? What sort of things do those women do?”
“Sister.” Patience laid her hand over Erica’s. “Charles isn’t still going, is he?”
Erica nodded tearfully. “He says he needs things that aren’t appropriate for a wife to do.”
“Oh rubbish! Women have needs too. And those needs aren’t generally as far apart as some men think they are.”
“So what should I
be doing? I’ll do anything for him, if only he would tell me what it is he needs.”
“Well, at the brothels the women allow the men to be a little rougher with them. The men aren’t making love to the whores. They’re simply fucking them. It’s all about pleasure. There are no arguments from breakfast or worry about making her pregnant.”
“But what specifically? What does William like?”
Patience lowered her voice. “He likes to take me from behind. He can go deeper that way.”
“Do you like that?”
Now Patience was the one blushing. “I do, because I like the power it gives me. When he is really aroused, he is helpless before me.”
Erica couldn’t imagine Charles ever being helpless. He had survived the war, after all. He was so strong always, in control at all times. But William was more of a dandy. Not Erica’s type but he and her sister did seem to have a good marriage. One never knew what transpired behind closed doors, of course.
“He also likes it when I take him in my mouth.” Patience was just getting started, apparently. “Especially when I lie on the bed and just let him fuck my mouth.”
Erica winced at her sister’s coarse language. Patience laughed it off.
“He also likes it when I order him to fuck me.”
Erica’s face was a hundred shades of red, she was certain. Probably shades of red never before seen on a human. She could never say such a thing to Charles.
“Oh come on, Erica. You asked. I’m telling you. The secret to a happy marriage is to be the proper, respectable wife outside the bedroom and to be a wicked, wanton lover inside it. You must turn it into your own private brothel. Give him a show, if that is what he likes. Let him turn you over his knee and spank you, if that gets him aroused.”
Erica’s breath hitched as she remembered the slap Charles had administered to her backside that day in his office. Did he like that sort of thing? Her sister was biting her lip now. Patience had perhaps revealed more than she had intended to. An image of the dandy William spanking her sister flashed through her mind.
“Do you like that?” Erica asked. She had to know now.
Patience blushed. “Well, I do. I know it sounds odd but … I don’t know. The pain becomes pleasurable after awhile But what I like most is when he puts his mouth on me down there. I swear, it’s like dying and being brought back to life.”
I reread the scene and debate. Should I delete it or email it to Alaric? Will he be upset? Am I taking too many liberties with his story?
Oh what difference does it make? I’m about to be fired in all likelihood anyway. That’s probably what Alaric is doing upstairs, speaking in private to his attorney, drawing up papers to terminate my contract.
I attach the pages to an email and send it over to his computer.
I can’t blame him, really. It’s business after all, nothing personal. Except … things have felt more personal between us lately. Walking around the pond, and last night. I shake my head. I’m definitely reading more into it than is there.
But I’m also going to miss him when I leave.
Just then the door to the office bursts open, almost as if someone kicked it open, and Alaric enters. He scoops up the manuscript pages I proofread and settles himself behind his big desk. He flips through the pages quickly, then turns on his computer. I hold my breath as he glances through his email.
After awhile, he looks over at me, one eyebrow lifted. I study my lap. I shouldn’t have sent him the scene.
After the longest few minutes of my life, Alaric clears his throat. “You’ve got a future as an erotic romance writer,” he says.
I grimace. “I don’t think so.”
“I think so. I’d like you to write more scenes from Erica’s point of view. I’ll give you a co-writing credit on this.”
I laugh nervously.
“No, seriously, Caterine. I’ll call my attorney and have him revise your contract.”
“You’re not going to fire me then?”
He frowns. “Why would you think that?”
“I … I thought that’s what you were doing upstairs. You seemed upset …”
“I was upset, Caterine. Very upset, in fact. But not with you. I was speaking to my sister earlier. Family matters.” He reads through the scene I wrote again. “I’ll give you a share of the royalties, too.”
“You don’t have to do that. Most of the work is yours. I’m just filling in the blanks here and there.”
“Do you know how much money we’re talking about?”
I shake my head.
“Enough that I won’t let you turn it down.”
I laugh nervously again. Is he serious? Letting me write part of his book? On the one hand, I would love to write more of Erica’s scenes. It’s fun.
On the other hand, though, I’ve never written a book. Maybe I don’t have that many scenes in my imagination.
“I might need a muse too,” I joke.
Alaric leans back in his chair and spreads his arms wide. “Here I am.”
My eyes grow large as he stands and takes my hand. He pulls me into the bedroom office.
“What does Erica want Charles to do to her?” he asks, circling me, studying me, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey.
It’s making me more than a little nervous.
“Does she want to be spanked like her sister?” Alaric chuckles. “The dandy William? I should write a sequel and have Sim play William. That would be fun.”
“I don’t think I’d want Sim spanking me. That would, uh, probably hurt.”
Alaric stops his pacing to look darkly at me. “Sim’s not going to touch you ever again.”
“But why—”
“Tell me what Erica wants.” Alaric changes the subject back to the matter at hand. “What are her fantasies?”
“She wants him to make love to her. Slow, passionate love. That’s what she imagined them doing all those years when he was away.”
37
Alaric
Make slow, passionate love to her? Yeah, that’s exactly what Erica would want. Caterine put her finger right on it. Only one problem, I think.
It’s been years since I’ve made love to anyone.
But she’s right. It’s exactly what Erica would want. And I will have to do it well because … another thought occurs to me.
“Has anyone ever made slow, passionate love to you, Caterine?” I ask, though I suspect I know the answer. Her downward glance confirms it.
“You’ll have to pay close attention, then. Can you do that? The details are important.”
She nods, daring a shy peek up at me, and that tiny look is all it takes to make me hard. I want her, want to be in her again, want to feel her tight heat wrapped around my cock. This is exactly what I feared would happen. If I had her once, like I did that morning, I would want her again and again.
But this is for the book. So it’s okay, right?
In my mind, I can hear Sim laughing at me. You just keep telling yourself that. Anything to drown out the other voice in my head, the one that’s whispering that I’m falling for her. Not falling for Erica—that had happened ages ago—but falling for Caterine.
I never fall in love with my assistants.
She’s waiting patiently for my instructions, but this is her scene. She has to direct it. I will do as she tells me to. But I’ll get her started. She’s new to this and she needs a few prompts.
“So where is Erica?” I start. “Is it a daytime or a nighttime fantasy?”
She lifts her chin, her confidence coming back. “Nighttime, I think. He’s been coming to her room at night but he always does it quickly, like he needs to get it over with as soon as possible.” She looks down at her clothes in dismay. She’s not wearing one of Erica’s dresses, but her own blouse and shorts. She strips them off, then stands there.
My cock is pressing painfully hard against the zipper of my own shorts. Fuck, she is so lovely. Her skin so smooth and perfect, not even any tan lines. She’s lik
e alabaster and her hair is spun gold tumbling over her bare shoulders.
“She’s getting ready for bed,” she continues. “And Charles walks in on her.”
I lick my lips. Why the hell am I so nervous? Yet undeniably my heart is pounding in my chest so hard it’s a wonder she can’t hear it.
“I think that’s my cue,” I say, walking toward Caterine.
38
Caterine
Charles crossed the room faster than she had ever seen him move. She had expected him to apologize for barging in on her, for not waiting after his curt knock. Instead he took her mouth in a hard kiss. A greedy, demanding kiss—and she gave into it, opening her lips and welcoming his thrusting tongue inside. She moaned as Charles explored every corner of her mouth, stroked her tongue with his own. She was wet for him in an instant.
This was what she had longed for. For him to make love to her, openly and proudly. Not furtively in the dark, like his desires were something to be ashamed of. She certainly wasn’t ashamed of her desire for him.
He broke the kiss. “Erica,” he whispered. Then he kissed her again and there was nothing furtive about it. He plundered her mouth with his, nipping at her lips. His hands slid around to her backside and pulled her hard against his body. His arousal was unmistakable. She pressed herself back at him, enjoying the long groan that elicited.
He kissed his way to her breasts and she cried out as he took one nipple between his teeth. The ache between her legs was a raging fire now and when he slipped his hand between them she ground herself shamelessly against him.
And then I’m flat on my back on the bed, struggling to keep my mind focused on the details of what’s happening. I’m beginning to understand why Alaric uses Sim. What does any of this feel like? How am I going to put words to it later? I can barely think. My entire body is one shaking mass of need.
