A Measured Risk (15 page)

Under his regard, the tips hardened into painful points. With wetness flowing between her wide
-
spread legs and her body trembling and the lush scent of her arousal on the air there was no hiding her feelings from him. But this felt right. And she felt…beautiful, desirable.

He traced his fingertip around one nipple, then the other. Unbearable sensation stabbed though her. He bent, his ash blond head shining in the candlelight. Warm velvet wetness circled her nipple for several moments, then he suckled on her. Delight stabbed her. She moaned
,
then clamped her mouth closed.

He lifted his head, his eyes hooded with desire. “Don’t. Don’t suppress yourself.” He cupped both her breasts, squeezing them with gentle but steady pressure. “Did you come for Cranfield?”

“Oh
,
goodness, must we discuss this?”

“Yes—I need to know how experienced you are.”

“Once… Well, I mean
,
I almost…”

“Almost doesn’t count, love.”

“I don’t think it was his fault… I think that it was because I was too…too…”

He chuckled softly. “Too damn wilful?”

“I suppose.”

“It won’t be that way with me. I won’t allow it.”

The absolute way he said that made her belly turn over. She chose not to comment. No matter how much she wanted to be open to him, she’d kept herself closed off from others for so long that she doubted she could change her ways. “Nan, you protect yourself too much and in the wrong ways.” He took her hand, drew it to his lap. His erection throbbed beneath her touch. As if of its own accord, her hand attempted, unsuccessfully, to grip him through his velveteen trousers. He pressed her grip tighter. “Did you ever touch Cranfield like this?”

“No.”

“Did you ever watch him come and see his seed surge?”

Anne shook her head vigorously, stunned to hear such a thing even put into words.

“Dare I ask
,
did you even
see
his cock?”

“No,” she breathed.

His dark brown brows rose. “Did you want to? Weren’t you curious?”

Yes, she had been. Quite breathlessly so at the time. But she’d been so painfully reserved on their wedding trip, both in the marriage bed and outside it. William’s sudden cooling towards her hadn’t helped. Then he’d met a little serving wench at one of the inns and slipped. After that, everything had fallen apart and she’d discovered that her charming, kind husband slipped quite often. Because she could never give what others wanted from her. Because she was cold and flawed. Just like the duke.

“It didn’t matter,” she said.

“Lying to yourself, concealing your feelings, denying your desires—even when it comes to demanding what is your proper due. This is the only way you feel you have any power with other people, isn’t it? Then you suffer in silence, needlessly. This is what I mean by protecting yourself in the wrong way.”

A hard coldness formed in her stomach. He did not know her. He did
not
. No one could know her. She kept herself hidden from their prying eyes. No one had the right to delve into her secret self. Her excitement ebbed and she became painfully aware of the indignity of her position
,
kneeling in the circle of his legs. Totally naked while he was almost completely dressed. She drew her knees together tightly, raised her eyes to his and raised her chin. “I do not want to speak of this.”

“We shall discuss whatever I decide we ought. I see how you hold others at a distance and I will tolerate no walls between us.” He pushed his hands up along the insides of her thighs. She resisted, holding her legs so tightly together that she had to grit her teeth. He easily forced them apart the slightest bit, enough to admit his hands to the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

God, he was so damned strong.

He ran his thumbs over the crease where her legs joined to her pelvis. Her internal muscles clenched and she released a thready little breath.

“Open your legs, Nan, all the way.”

His voice was persuasive velvet. But with her rational side finally in control, she didn’t feel like putting herself on display for him. She held her legs as closed as his large hands allowed.

He forced her legs apart further and applied several quick, sharp slaps to her inner thighs. She gasped and looked up at him with her mouth open. “Hey!”

He gave her a stern look. “Unless I say otherwise, you must always keep them open when you kneel for me. You will not close yourself off to me Nan, not in any way.”

“So I don’t have a choice?”

“If you really and truly wish me to cease anything, then say “sapphire” and I shall stop right away, whatever it is, so long as it is safe to do so.”

“And if I say it right now?”

“I shall leave and let you have your rest. Tomorrow we shall talk about what has distressed you so much. It’s not something to use lightly, Nan.” He paused for a few moments. “Do you wish to use it now?”

She couldn’t bring herself to speak the word and
,
to her shame, she knew it had nothing to do with wanting him to teach her anything about bravery and overcoming fears. It had everything to do with the wetness slicking down her thighs. Her thoughts were freezing up on her again. In a panicked attempt to regain logical control, she asked, “Why pick such a term? Sapphire.”

“Because when I look into your eyes, all I can think of is luscious, shimmering, dark
-
as
-
midnight blue velvet.” He resumed caressing her, letting his thumbs graze along her outer lips. “It’s clearly your word. And so it shall be between us.”

She couldn’t help the sudden, desperate jerking of her hips. The teasing brushing irritated her. Oh
,
God, she wanted his whole hand on her. Pressing her, stroking her. Now.

He seemed in no hurry, patiently tracing her. He stroked her nub so lightly that she didn’t realise it until the next stroke came…and the next one and the next one. The sensations came on like waves, reverberations of longing, coming faster and faster now. The edge of the sweet abyss was within sight. The urge to clasp herself to him, to feel his hard-muscled shoulders beneath her hands, rose strong in her. She balled her hands, digging her nails into her palms. And she clamped her jaw to stop herself from crying out her need. All the while
,
the pleasurable tension in her rose. The first foreshocks shuddered through her core. How foolish to have feared this. She was still in control. She could easily take this pleasure and give him nothing of her deeper self. The realisation was a revelation.

Then he stopped.

Oh
,
God, he has stopped.

Chapter Nine

Anne sat there, panting in disbelief while all the tension within her changed to a dull ache. She opened her eyes.

Jon was watching her with a closed expression.

She hated the very sight of him.

Yet she had to fight with every ounce of her will not to throw herself at him and beg him to continue. To take her to the bed and press her down with his body.

“I warned you I wouldn’t tolerate you closing yourself off to me.” His voice was cold, implacable and to her bewilderment, it filled her with an uncontrollable lust. She grew more frantic by the moment—frantic to do anything to re-enter his good graces.

Her thinking mind screamed in protest as she dropped her forehead to his thigh
,
an instinctive gesture of supplication. “I am sorry, Jon.”

A part of her vital internal being was ripped from her with the words. She hated to apologise to anyone and she’d done so twice tonight.

Twice.

If that wasn’t the best reason to hate him, she’d never have one. However, her desire knew no shame or pride. “You said you would teach me to…to please you.”

“Are you just going to close me out again?”

His words, gently spoken, cut into her like glass shards. Tears seeped from her eyes, wetting his velveteen trousers under her face. Her chest went tight and felt ready to burst with the need to do anything he wanted—to
be
what he wanted.

He would reject her. Just like everyone else.

“I’ll try not to close you out.” She bit her lip. “But I-I don’t know what’s possible for me. I tried so hard with…” Her voice broke. “Before.”

An eternity seemed to pass. Then he lifted her off his lap. “Resume your position, Nan.”

She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips.

She pressed fervent kisses on his flesh, the pale, fine hairs on the back of his hand tickling her. She was sobbing, her tears were flowing like a river now. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was gaining a second chance to please him.

Jon watched Anne’s display, frozen momentarily by awe. Christ
,
she really was naturally submissive—far more so than he’d guessed. His erection pulsed, straining against his trousers. Oh, the pleasures they would share once he’d earned her full trust. And he hadn’t earned it yet. He didn’t fool himself. She was merely aroused to a peak and confused by feelings she’d never faced before.

Not to mention that she was starved for meaningful sexual release.

He pulled his watch out and glanced at the time. About an hour until dawn. An hour for him to make such an impression on her that she would crave his dominance. Crave it enough that it would keep her from running away from him once she came to her senses after this night. But first things first. His cock throbbed as if it were about ready to burst. If he was to focus on her with any sort of clarity now, after this stunning performance, he would need release.

He withdrew his hand and grasped her shoulders. “Lean back, Anne, on your knees”

He unbuttoned his trousers
,
then pulled his cock out. He took her hand and wrapped it tightly about it. His cock jerked in her grasp. He felt her start and her hand went slack. He put his hand back over hers and held it there firmly.

“Don’t let go,” he said, hoarsely. He moved her hand, demonstrated how the skin on the shaft beneath her hand glided up and down easily. He loosened his hold and she repeated the motion. Pleasure washed over him and he gritted his teeth.

“That’s it, firm and fast.” He removed his hand from hers. She stroked him tentatively. Her feather
-
soft stroke maddened him. “Harder, love.”

She took hold of him and stroked firmly, three times in quick succession. He caught his breath, the sound a sharp
,
inward hiss. She dropped his cock, her eyes huge and uncertain.

He laughed, low and husky. “You’re so skittish, love.” He took her hand and wrapped it about his throbbing length again. “Stroke me hard and fast, and I don’t care if the whole fucking manor is on fire, don’t you dare let go.”

Her body shook again, the little sensualist. He reached behind her, grasped her lovely, enticing mass of glossy black ringlets. Moaning, she writhed within the circle of his legs, her full, heavy breasts bouncing, her thighs clamped tightly together. The sensation and sight was about to drive him insane and his balls drew up tight.

“Christ, you excite me, Nan” he growled, fishing in his pocket for his handkerchief and spreading it over his lap. He grasped her hand and increased the speed and pressure. “Open your eyes, love.”

She complied instantly. Her eyes looked almost black with passion. “Watch my cock.”

She dropped her gaze to his lap. He inhaled sharply and dropped his hand away from hers as the wild surging took over. His seed erupted in violent jets of pure pleasure, landing on her hand, her arm and the handkerchief. Everywhere. It left him gasping for breath.

It had been fucking fantastic. And he hadn’t even been anywhere near her mouth or her cunt.

He cupped her face, tipping it up and kissing her deeply until she struggled for breath. He stroked his hand down over her silken back, down to her arse. He laid several healthy smacks on her plump, round buttocks.