Chapter 17
Jess sank into the mattress with Alistair directly following on top of her. The descent jolted them both, his cock piercing deep as he pinned her to the bed. She moaned, perspiration blooming across her skin. He growled, fisting the counterpane on either side of her head and lunging again. The thrust was powerful, pushing her across the slippery velvet only to be stopped by his steely forearms at her shoulders.
“No,” she gasped, on the verge of climax. If she let him, he’d hurtle her into her first of many orgasms within moments. He would ride her relentlessly, delaying his own release until she was witless with pleasure and trembling. He would undress her and himself while she was too satiated to move; then he would continue for hours, stripping her defenses with merciless determination.
He paused, staring down at her with a gaze so hot it flushed her skin. “No?”
She pushed up onto her elbows. “Let me have you.”
Alistair straightened. He made swift work of removing his waistcoat, cravat, and shirtsleeves, all without leaving her body. He was forced to withdraw to remove his lower garments, his breath leaving him in a harsh rush as her tender tissues clung greedily to his length as he stepped back.
She took a long moment to admire the perfection of his naked body. It was a sight she would never tire of. He was long and lean, so fit that every sinewy length of tight, hard muscle was rendered in stark relief beneath his smooth skin. Her gaze traveled from his shoulders to his feet and back up again, lovingly caressing him—every virile inch. He moved not at all, unabashedly affording her the pleasure of looking at him. By the time their eyes aligned, she was breathless with infatuation and potent desire.
“You are exquisite,” she whispered, sliding her feet to the hardwood sole. She approached him and wrapped her arms around his trim hips, her lips pressing a kiss over his heart. “And priceless.”
His returning embrace was so fierce it nearly crushed the air from her. “And yours, Jess. Never doubt it.”
“I’m glad, because I am madly besotted with you.” She laid her cheek against his chest, breathing in the purely masculine scent that cloaked him. His heartbeat quickened at her words, proving what she’d begun to suspect—her fears were affecting him, making him anxious to cling to her as if she might drift away at any moment. An impossible notion to anyone who knew how anchored to him she was. But he didn’t know.
“I wish you would say such things to me more often,” he said gruffly, as ever so brutally, vulnerably honest that he shamed her for being so reticent.
“I don’t know how.” She leaned her head to the side as he began to unfasten the buttons securing the back of her gown.
“You cannot do it wrong.” Alistair kissed the top of her shoulder, then bit her, his teeth sinking deep enough to border on painful. The feral act startled and aroused her. “Did you never discuss your affection for Tarley?”
“The subject wasn’t one that came up in conversation. It was just there, between us, understood and comfortable.”
He turned her away from him to loosen her stays. “That isn’t enough for me.”
“I am falling so far, so fast,” she confessed in a low, shaken tone. “I cannot stop it or moderate it. I’m dizzy with it. My feelings for you frighten me, and so I expect their intensity will frighten you as well.”
“Give voice to your fears, as I do.”
Jess closed her eyes, knowing there was still so much to learn about him. It was her fault she knew so little about the events that had shaped him; she didn’t question him as he questioned her. She’d been trained not to pry, but she would have to break that training if she hoped to make Alistair truly happy.
“I will try. You vocalize your affection without hesitation.” Her gown puddled around her feet. “I envy you that ease.”
He divested her of her corset, chemise, and pantalettes with now-familiar expertise.
“Have you—” Jess cleared her throat. “There must have been someone you cared for?”
“Must there have been?” He stepped back.
She looked at him over her shoulder. He waited, and she finally collected that he waited for her, anticipating the vocalization of why she’d stayed him earlier. “Lie on the bed.”
He moved to do her bidding with sleek and graceful fluidity. He arranged himself in a half-reclined position against the pillows, his long legs stretched out before him, supremely comfortable in his nakedness. She reached the side of the bed and debated where to begin. His erection was an irresistible lure—thick and hard, curving up toward his navel—but she adored all of him.
“Who was she?” she asked, suddenly jealous of the phantom woman—or few—from his past who’d seen him thusly.
“You are so certain.”
“You did not begin your sexual experience as Lucien, so I cannot be the only woman you’ve known carnally as Alistair.”
He fisted his penis in his hand and stroked slowly, his heavy-lidded eyes unable to hide the look that said he was deliberately testing her.
“You’re shameless,” she said in a husky voice, climbing onto the bed.
“You’re naked. My cock aches for you.”
And she was hot and wet for him, no longer on the sharp precipice of orgasm, but it would take him only a moment to arouse her back to that edge.
When he reached for her, she shook her head. “I want you to lie still and take what I give you.”
“Lie still? Are you mad?”
“I shall tie you up, if I must.”
“Jess … Damnation.” He glowered. “It has been seven days. Play your games later, when I’ll be more receptive.”
She wrapped her hand around him, her breath leaving her at the heat and hardness of him. The tendons of his neck stood out in harsh relief, his teeth grinding as she caressed him far more gently than he did himself. She licked her lips.
“No,” he bit out. “I’m too close to coming to enjoy your mouth properly.”
“Fine.” She mounted him, tossing one leg over his hips to position her sex above his erection. She hummed a chastising sound when he grabbed her waist. “No touching.”
“Bloody hell. How can I see to your pleasure if I can’t touch you?”
She smiled. “That’s the point.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but the words were strangled when she sank onto the broad, flared head of his cock. An unbidden whimper escaped her. The muscles of her thighs weakened, and she lowered, her slick sex sliding down his full, throbbing length. The entry was slow and inexorable, a fine tremor spreading across her limbs. Alistair bowed upward, grabbing her and burying his damp face between her breasts.
His hips were already moving, circling, his arms holding her still as he screwed deep into her, seeking and finding the tender spot inside her that drove her insane.
“Lie back,” she gasped, fighting her selfish desire to succumb to his skill.
“Let me make you come,” he whispered starkly. “Let me …”
“Not yet.” She shivered as he rocked her pelvis against his, applying pressure to her clitoris. “Stop. You promised!”
He cursed and went still, his large body so hot it burned her skin. “Christ, Jess. What are you doing to me?”
“I want to make you come,” she said, unwrapping his arms from around her. “I want to watch you when you do.”
Alistair sank back into the pillows with a groan. With his eyes closed, he shoved his hands through his hair. He had beautiful arms. The bunching and flexing of his biceps made her sex flutter with appreciation around his rigid penis. He cursed, his abdominal muscles lacing tight with strain.
Jess bent over him and pressed her parted lips to his. As personal as he claimed his orgasms with her were, he didn’t share them. Not truly. He ensured she was exhausted from pleasure and barely lucid first, then he climaxed with his face pressed into her neck and hair, clutching her tightly even as he hid from her. Even when she brought him pleasure with her mouth, he tilted his face up and back, hindering her view.
He caught her head in his hands and angled it, taking her mouth the way he needed to, breathing in her quick exhalations as he stroked his tongue across hers. Her toes curled. Her nipples tightened in a silent plea for similar attention. His kisses were indescribable, the emotion behind them enough to break her heart. He kissed her with such passion, his lips clinging to hers, his tongue licking erotically.
Deep inside her, she felt him lengthen and thicken. It made her stomach flutter to think he could climax just from kissing her. He broke away, panting, fighting the inevitable.
Catching his wrists, she pulled his hands away and straightened. She laced their fingers together and lifted, sliding her sex along his cock in a satiny-slick caress. She lowered her body slowly, using his upraised arms as leverage, keeping them occupied so that he couldn’t shield his face behind them.
Alistair’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth, his blue eyes so dark they looked like sapphires. He was flushed, his lips swollen from her kiss, his black hair tousled by her grasping fingers. She’d never seen anything as extravagantly beautiful in her life.
Her heart swelled and caused her chest to ache. Rolling her hips, she lifted again. Lowered. Listened to the soft liquid sounds that betrayed her own raging desire. She watched him from beneath her lashes, searching for clues to his pleasure. How fast to stroke over him, how deep to take him, which angle made sweat bead along his hairline.
“Jesus,” he gasped when she thrust down hard, his body quaking at the jolting impact. He was deep, the broad crown of his penis touching the end of her. The tension, strung wire-tight through his powerful frame, was tangible.
Jess tightened her grip on his hands and began to ride him in earnest, pumping hard and swift, tightening on the upstrokes, releasing on the downstrokes. Taking him to that deep place inside her that made his head thrash and his legs kick restlessly beneath her.
“Wait—” He struggled to sit up. “Damnation … Slow down!”
“Let go,” she coaxed breathlessly, reaching behind her and between his legs to tease the taut heavy sac of his testicles. “I’ll hold you.”
“Jess.” Alistair yanked his hand free of her grip and grabbed her hips. Holding her immobile, he pounded upward, his hips pistoning with such speed she could only grip his forearms and let him have his way.
He gave a feral growl at the first wrenching spurt of semen and released her abruptly, his arms dropping to the bed so his hands could fist the counterpane. His back bowed up from the bed, his neck arching. The ferocity of his orgasm was magnificent, the way he bit out her name even more so.
“Yes,” she urged, riding out his climax, holding off her own so that she could absorb every nuance of his release. She was riveted by his pleasure, awestruck that she could make him feel so strongly about an act he’d once disregarded completely. “God … you’re beautiful.”
And totally vulnerable. Undone. Emotions raced across his face—pained ecstasy, need, love … even anger.
Alistair rolled them both, taking her to the edge of the bed. He was thrusting before she could catch her bearings, grinding against her, the friction of his thick cock forcing the orgasm from her overstimulated body. She cried out as the spasms flowed through her, her fingers gripping his sides, her legs opened wide to accept everything he had to give her.
His mouth covered hers, muting the sounds they made as they climaxed violently.
I love you, she exhaled into his near-frantic kiss, no longer able or willing to contain the words or the sentiment behind them.
In answer, he caught her close and crushed the air from her lungs.