Against Her Rules (8 page)

  Her
suite was made up of a small kitchenette/living room, her bedroom and a
spacious bathroom. It was decorated simply in various layers of whites and sea
foam green, her personal oasis. He sat on the plush sofa.

  She
could count on one hand how often someone had sat on that sofa. Truth was, she
had created this room and never used it. She wasn’t even sure if there was milk
in the fridge. She was right. Another check and she groaned.

  “Um,
it seems I’m out of tea bags,” she said, giving him a sheepish smile.
“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had teabags here. I know I bought this
pretty canister set, but they’re all empty. I don’t think I ever filled them!”

  “That’s
okay,” he said, picking up a photo album lying on the coffee table. “May I?”

  “Sure,
although don’t think you’re going to find anything incriminating in there,” she
said with a grin.

  “There’s
nothing in here,” he said.

  “Yea.
I bought that because I thought it would look nice on the table. I haven’t
gotten around to printing any pictures to fill it with. Then again, all my
pictures these years are of the inn, so that might be why.”

  God,
how pathetic he was going to think she was.

  “Well,
that’s your life, so why not fill it with what matters to you? Some people take
photos of their dog and fill albums with those. There’s nothing wrong with the
photos you have, if they mean something to you. And this place certainly is
important, yes?

  “Exactly,”
she said. “Sometimes people will get on my back about spending too much time at
work, but when your work is your home, what else are you supposed to do? It’s
the choice I made and I love it. If I didn’t I’d close the door tomorrow and
just live here myself.” She didn’t add that life would be too lonely then.

  “I
get it.”

  “Thanks,”
she said. “So, I can run downstairs and grab some tea bags if you’re desperate
for tea.” She went back to the small refrigerator. “Or I can offer you a bottle
of water.”

  “I’m
good,” he said.

  He
sure looked good, sitting there. The room was better with him in it.

  “Nice
shirt, by the way,” he added.

  It
was then that she realized she was wearing ratty blue plaid flannel pj bottoms
with a shirt she’d gotten almost twenty years ago at a Def Leopard concert. Her
chest read ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me.’

  “I
wasn’t expecting to be out of my room tonight.”

  “Oh,
I’m glad you wore that out,” he said, standing and walking to her. “It will
give me plenty to dream about. And because of that, I should really go.”

  She
blushed. This was it, the magic minute. If she wanted anything to happen with
this man, now was the time to say or do something.

  He
leaned down and kissed her cheek, lingering there.

  “I
think you should stay,” she whispered. She felt him tense. Then he kissed her
cheek again, nearer her ear.

  “I’d
like to stay.” His breath on her ear caused her to tremble. Then he kissed her
ear lobe, nipping it with his tongue.

  There
was no turning back now, she told herself as she glided her hand up his firm
chest. Even with the softness of the cashmere sweater, she felt his hot, hard
body beneath.

  She
was shocked when he picked her up and laid her on the counter. “I want to see
your eyes.” His voice was deeper and quieter than she’d ever heard it.

  “God,
you’re beautiful.” He stroked her cheek slowly, before twining his fingers in
her long hair. Pulling her head back ever so slightly, he descended to capture
her mouth in his. His lips were firm and unyielding.

  She
wasn’t the melt at a man’s touch type of woman. Instead she met his kiss with
her own intensity, days of built-up longing taking its release in her lips and
tongue. For a first kiss there was nothing hesitant or sweet about it. Pure raw
heat coursed through her. The ferocity of her passion startled her. She broke
the kiss.

  “I’ll
only go as far as you want,” Cam said, running his thumb softly along her
bottom lip.

  She
replied by pulling her shirt over her head, revealing nothing but skin. She
wrapped her legs around his waist, and guided his head to her breasts. She
longed to feel him stroke her.

  He
didn’t disappoint. From the first slow pull of his lips across her nipple to a
feverous suckling, Elsie discovered that it was more than possible for a woman
to lose control just from this very act. He stopped just long enough to carry
her to the sofa, before continuing his torturing of her.

  She
began to tug at his sweater and shirt, wanting to feel skin on skin.

  “No,”
he growled, as he worked her breasts, moving from one to the other, alternating
between light grazes of his lips on her firm nipples to deep kisses taking in
as much of their fullness as he could in his mouth.

  “Yes,”
she said, still trying to loosen his shirt.

  “No,”
he said again, taking her slender arms and pinning them to either side of her
now twisting body.

  Elsie
wanted to scream in frustration. Her body yearned to feel his skin. She’d
dreamed of touching him for so long that to be denied it was sheer torture.
Which might be his intention.

  Her
nipples were on sensory over-drive, making the rest of her body yearn for
similar treatment. It was as if there was an imaginary wire that went from her
breasts to her inner-core, sending signals to her erogenous zones to let them
know that there was a very skillful master at work, and they should prepare
themselves in anticipation.

  The
need to touch Cam was overwhelming. She had to do something to maintain some
form of control. But she was unable to move her arms. A slight wiggle of her
wrist to see if she could break free, and he tightened his grip on her arms. He
also broke his grasp of her nipples.

  “No
moving that body of yours unless it’s in absolute pleasure,” he said before his
mouth covered hers.

  She
tried to take control of the situation, wrapping her lips around his tongue and
drawing it deeper into her mouth. She thought she felt him grow harder against
her thigh, but really, who could tell. The man was all rock hard sinew at the
best of times. Maybe that was his leg.

  Holy
crap. If she couldn’t tell the difference between his cock and his leg, she had
bigger things to worry about.

  Elsie
attempted to shift her leg, to draw it up between his legs, but the man really
was a giant. There was no way she could budge.

  He
pulled his mouth away from hers, dropping a feather-light kiss on her nose.

  “Frustrated?”
His eyes glowed with the glee of a man who was getting exactly what he wanted.

  She
refused to comment. Instead she wriggled as best she could beneath him, and
slowly sucked on her bottom lip in some vain hope he’d want to give her free reign
to give as well as receive.

  He
nipped her lip. “Elsie,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve been
dreaming of ways to please you. I’ve fantasized about tasting you. Let me show
you, before I lose control. Because I know once you start touching me, there’s
no way I’m going to stay sane.”

  She
shuddered in anticipation.

  “Does
that sound good to you?” He suckled her neck.

  “Oh
God yes.” What kind of woman would say no to a man after that?

  “Where’s
your bed?”

  “In
there.”

  Cam
picked her up as if she weighed nothing and strode into her room.

  The
covers of her bed were still tossed back from when she’d jumped out of it an
hour ago. Cam pushed them the rest of the way down and laid her across the
centre of the soft mattress.

  On
a good day Elsie loved to lie on her soft cotton sheets and feel them against
her skin. Now they were adding to the sensations that were already coursing
across her body.

  Cam
kissed her again, and then made a trail of soft kisses down her neck, between
her breasts, onto her stomach. Tiny butterfly kisses, to match the fluttering
in her stomach.

  He
ran his hands down her torso, stopping when he reached her waist.

  “Last
chance to change your mind,” he said, his mouth nuzzling the skin below her
belly button.

  “Are
you crazy?” she moaned. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  He
laughed. “I’ll take that as a please proceed.”

  He
slid his hands to the waistband of her flannel pants and slowly pulled them
down. The fabric caressed her hips, sliding easily over her bottom thanks to
the one appealing piece of clothing she was wearing... blue satin bikini
panties, trimmed with lace.

  She
couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard him growl at the discovery.

  He
continued his trail of kisses as he removed her panties, moving down her thigh,
to her knee, kissing her calf and ankle as he dropped the blue satin to the
floor.

  Her
body longed to touch him, but she resisted. It felt decadent to simply lie
there and let him explore her.

  He
ran his hands back up her legs, widening the gap between them as one hand
caressed the slight covering of hair that crested her mound.

  Despite
knowing what was about to happen, Elsie still gasped when he softly stroked the
wet skin inside. He was taking his absolute dead time, one finger exploring the
entrance to her core, circling around her clitoris without actually touching
it.

  It
was excruciating. And maddening. And she hoped he kept doing it.

  Never
had a man taken such time with her. It was normally kiss, stroke, thrust,
thank-you. Elsie felt like Cam was unwrapping her, like a gift you’ve wanted
for a long time, and to draw out the anticipation you slowly unwrap it, taking
your time undoing the bow in the ribbon, languorously unloosing each layer of
tape, before peeling back the paper to reveal the treasure inside.

   
His finger slowly eased deeper into her centre, while his mouth nipped at her
inner thigh.

  Elsie
wanted to grab his hair and lead his head to take over from his hand, but she
also wanted to give him his freedom to go at his own pace—even if she melted
into the bed trying to contain herself.

  But
sweet gentle Moses, there was only so much a woman could take. It turned out
that for Elsie, that was the moment he replaced his finger with his tongue and
swept it across her already pulsing clitoris.

  Thrusting
her hips up off the bed, she tangled her fingers in his hair and tried to bite
off the scream of pleasure that was building in her throat. Sure, she’d
renovated the rooms so that they were virtually soundproof, but she didn’t
trust herself not to bring the walls down if she were to let loose the pent up
moans of desire.

  She
needed to get herself under control. Oh dear God. She needed to keep it together.
Oh sweet mercy. She exploded as a torrent of waves crashed through her body.
And yet Cam continued. Her legs, somehow, had ended up over his shoulders, and
he continued to stroke her as she writhed on the bed, her hands trying to push
his head away to create a break in the intense convulsions coursing through her
body.

  “I
can’t handle any more,” she moaned. “Please,” she begged. But was she begging
for him to stop? Really? Or just continue his ministrations elsewhere?

  Finally
she managed to drag his head away.

  He
smiled wolfishly at her. “More? Or do you need a rest?”

  More?
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Hell yes, she wanted more.

  She
didn’t let herself think about why he’d have a condom in his pocket, as he
pulled it out as he quickly undressed. She supposed this was the time when she
was meant to size up his perfect body, and run her hands along the muscles that
rippled down his chest—so that was what a real six-pack looked like!—but the
only thing Elsie cared about at that instant was feeling him slide inside her.

  The
man was big, and she just knew her body was about to stretch in ways she’d
never had to before, but she was damn well willing to give it a try. However, it
was going to be on her terms.

  “My
turn,” she said, pushing him on his back. She spread her legs over his hips and
leaned her chest towards him. Her breasts hovered above his face and he grabbed
one with his mouth.

  Slowly,
she eased herself down onto his shaft, moving up and back down in smooth
intervals until the entire length of him filled her.

  She
closed her eyes at the sensation of fullness. Every slight move he made, every
pulse of his cock, threatened to take her over the edge again. She wanted to
make it last, wanted to feel him tremble inside her before allowing herself to
lose control again. But it was going to take all of her strength to do it.

  As
she rocked her body on top of him, Cam continued to tease her breast with his
tongue. His hands were gripping her rear-end, helping set the pace. Before long
he was raising his hips to meet her, thrusting into her with force. Soon they
were in the midst of a harmonious rhythm, his thrusting up as she pushed
herself down, their bodies converging with mounting speed.

  Cam
pulled his mouth away from her breasts. “Open your eyes,” he panted.

  Elsie
wasn’t aware she’d closed them.

  “I
want to see you,” he said as she looked at him. “Beautiful,” he moaned. “Oh
sweet Jesus, Elsie, you are breathtaking.”

  She
felt him shudder beneath her, all the invitation she needed to let herself go.
As wave after wave of pleasure flowed over her, she lay on top of him, their
frantic breathing in tandem with one another.

  Her
hair was tangled around his face, while her cheek rested on his shoulder. She
kissed it.

  Cam
reached down and pulled a sheet up over them, wrapping his arms around her.