Been Loving You Too Long (20 page)

Realistically, he knew that it wasn’t fair to expect her to not want those things, even if he didn’t feel he would ever be the man to give them to her.

Vincent placed his card on the table and their waiter appeared immediately.
 
Within minutes, he’d signed the check and was ushering Ophelia into a taxi.
 
Seated as they were, their hands hidden from the driver’s view, he was surprised and painfully aroused to feel her hand sliding over his thigh, toward his hardening cock.

Glancing at her profile, he noted that she sat facing forward, a serene expression on her face as she moved her hand over him with wicked precision.
 
His jaw clenched so tightly he thought it would snap.
 
Her fingers closed over him through the fabric of his pants, stroking him boldly.
 

Through gritted teeth, he uttered, “That’s a bit unexpected.”

She turned toward him and he took in her wide, innocent eyes and temptress mouth.
 
“You’re not the only one who likes to change things up a bit.”

Vincent grasped her wrist firmly, stilling her hand.
 
More quietly he warned, “You’re playing with fire.”
 
Rather than remove her hand, Vincent pressed it more firmly against him, controlling her movements, taking charge.
 
He saw the heat flare in her eyes then—a challenge flaring in the depths.

“I like the heat,” she replied softly.
 

Leaning down slightly, he whispered against her ear, “I want you to do exactly as I say.
 
Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she responded, slightly breathless.
 

“While I am paying the driver, you are to walk into the house and the minute you are inside the door, you will strip and go directly to the bedroom,” he whispered the instructions.

“You want me to just stand there naked?” she asked.
 

“Yes...If you do as you’re asked, you’ll be rewarded,” he promised.
 

“And if I don’t?” she questioned.
 

Vincent allowed his teeth to graze sharply against the shell of her ear. “Then, we’ll
discuss
your punishment.”

~~****~~

Ophelia shivered as the taxi rolled to a stop in front of the house.
 
When he released her hand, she immediately missed the heat of him, the thrill of touching him and feeling how his body responded to her. She quickly moved to do what he’d commanded her to do.
 

There was something different in Vincent, something a little dangerous.
 
He just shared so much with her and possibly this left him feeling vulnerable in a way.

She understood on some level, that he was taking control of the situation again, in the only way he could.
 
She didn’t mind it.
 
Not in the least!
 

Removing her dress, she draped it over the back of the chair. She then kicked off her shoes as she strode toward the stairs, climbing them swiftly.
 
Unclasping her bra, she simply dropped it to the floor.

When she reached the bed, she hooked her fingers beneath the elastic of her panties and slid them over her hips until they joined her bra.
 
She didn’t climb into the bed, but stood there, naked and waiting for him, just as he’d demanded.

It was only a moment before she heard the doors open again and she had no time to turn and face him.
 
Anticipation burned inside her.
 
She could feel his presence when he moved behind her.

His large hands skimmed over her arms with the faintest touch.
 
Then, his breath was fanning over her neck as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You like this, don’t you, Ophelia?
 
You like having me tell you what to do.”

“Maybe,” she replied.
 
“Within reason.”

He chuckled.
 
“Within reason. That’s a very
you
sentiment.
 
I enjoy having you submit to me, but only here—in this room, you’re mine completely.”

She leaned against him, unable to help herself.
 
The heat and strength of his body beckoned to her.
 
“Only in this room?”

He laughed softly, the sound sending shivers over her skin.
 
“For now...Climb onto the bed, Ophelia.”

Stepping forward, Ophelia knelt on the bed and crawled slowly, seductively, toward the pillows.
 
She knew that he was watching her, but there was no self consciousness, no awkwardness.
 

He’d shown her over and over again that he enjoyed her body.
 
The rest of their relationship might be a house of cards, but in that one area, there was nothing to complain about.
 

Moving back against the pillows, her hair fanned out around her, she waited for him to come down on top of her, but he didn’t.
 
She was laid out before him, completely naked and he was still fully clothed, staring down at her.
 
It was intensely erotic, feeling his heated gaze travel over her body, watching him drink in the sight.
 

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked softly.
 

“I know how beautiful I feel right now,” she answered.
 
It was true.
 
He did make her feel beautiful.
 
Powerful, wealthy, more handsome than one man ought to be allowed to be, but she knew that he desired her.

It wasn’t simple convenience. In truth, there was nothing convenient about it.
 
But the heat which existed between them defied logic, defied sense and left them both reeling.
 
“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, shocked at just how true the statement was.
 
She craved his touch like a drug.
 

“Show me,” he challenged.
 

Ophelia met his gaze and she could see the dare in his eyes.
 
He was thinking of the day before their wedding, she knew, when he’d caught her in the tub fantasizing about him.
 
She hadn’t known he was there at the time and the mortification had been unbearable.
 
She remembered the heat she’d seen in his eyes.
 
He’d looked at her if he wanted to consume her and she’d wanted him to.
 
Could she do that?
 
Could she touch herself so intimately while he watched?
 
Indecision and need warred within her.
 

“Make up your mind, Ophelia. You said you wanted to know the real me.
 
That you wanted to know what was going on inside my head.”

“I do—I just don’t even know where to begin.
 
I’ve never done this before.
 
Not intentionally—at any rate,” she confessed haltingly.
 

“If I have my way, you’ll be doing lots of things you’ve never done before. What were you thinking about that day?” he continued, his gaze traveling over her body again, as if memorizing every detail.
 

“You—the way you touched me that first night, all the things you made me feel.”
  
The confession made her feel more vulnerable than her nudity.
 
She was laying bare to him far more than just her body.
 

Apparently, it had been the right answer, because he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it toward the chair.
 
The absence of it made him less formidable, but no less appealing.

Her breath caught as he moved closer.
 
What was he planning, she wondered.

“Show me, Ophelia,” he murmured, his voice deep and rich, “Where did you touch yourself first?”

Moving her hand to her breast, Ophelia cupped it gently, as if offering it to him.
 
He smiled, a small twist of his lips and she had the feeling that things were about to change dramatically.
 

“I saw you that day,” he reminded her.
 
“I saw how brazen you were when you thought you were alone...Show me again.”

Bolder, with a firmer and more decisive touch, she moved her hand over her breast, until her fingers bracketed the taut peak.
 
Strumming it with her finger tips she bit her lip as she felt the sensation arrow directly to her core. He hadn’t even touched her, but she was burning for him.
 
Heat pooled in her belly and she could feel the moisture gathering between her thighs.
 

Staring up at his face, at the rapt expression he wore as he watched her, Ophelia brought her other hand up, cupping the second breast.
 
Teasing both nipples, she watched him—watching her.
 

~~****~~

Vincent was surprised by her.
 
He hadn’t thought Ophelia would accept his challenge.
 
Of course, she was passionate.
 
He’d encountered that first hand and was eternally grateful for it, but he hadn’t expected that she would be so open to exploring her darker desires or indulging his.
 

His prideful and prim wife was a submissive, or at the very least, had submissive tendencies.
 
To that point, the sex had been incendiary, but largely vanilla.
 
How far would she go, he wondered.

Watching her perfectly manicured nails, a deep crimson against the dusky pink of her nipples, he was torn between continuing to enjoy the sight and challenging her to go further.
 

Letting his gaze wander to the neatly trimmed thatch of dark curls between her thighs, he knew one undeniable truth.
 
He would always go farther with her.
 
He wanted everything she had to give and more, for as long as he could have her.
 
“You didn’t stop at just touching your breasts,” he chided, gently.
 
“What were you doing when you whispered my name?”

She didn’t answer, but instead did as he’d bade her earlier and showed him.
 
Her hand slipped lower, over her ribs and the soft mound of her belly, to dip between her thighs and stroke the damp, swollen lips of her pussy.
 

“Part your thighs, Ophelia...If you’re going to give me the show I’ve asked for, I want to see everything,” he instructed.
 

Her face was flushed, her cheeks pink with embarrassment and a healthy dose of lust.
 
Her lips parted on a soft moan, part protest and part desire.
 
But she followed the command, parting her thighs and letting him watch as her fingers slipped delicately between the slick folds of her sex, teasing her clit.
 

“There is nothing more beautiful, more erotic,” he whispered hotly, “than watching a woman pleasure herself.
 
Your touch is so delicate, so gentle. You make me feel like a brute for the way I touch you.”

“I love the way you touch me,” she whispered back, “You seem to know exactly what I need.”

“I know what I need—I need to taste you, Ophelia,” he said, but made no move to dip his head between her parted thighs.
 
He waited for her to offer him something first.
 
She was no shy virgin, but at the same time, he knew Ophelia was out of her depth with him.
 

Still, she withdrew her fingers from her damp slit and rising on her elbow, brought them to his mouth.
 
Sucking the digits between his lips, he nipped her fingertips with his teeth, savoring the taste of her and the knowledge that, in that moment, she was completely his, ready to do anything he asked of her.