Jaded (17 page)

He found the entrance to her sex and pressed a finger deep inside, then two. She moaned and closed her eyes. Slowly, he thrust them in and out, making her soak his hand.

“What about Byron? I thought you had feelings for him.” His voice was a low, rough murmur near her ear.

Her breath arrested painfully in her throat. “I don’t know what I feel for him.”

“You
do
know. You love him.”

She shook her head. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about now. It was far too painful and confusing. “He brought me here for you, remember?”

“Yes, he brought you here for me, but this isn’t about obligation right now, is it? Am I just a job to you?”

She swallowed hard. “This is me, as a woman, responding to you as a man. I want you, Alek.
Please
.”

His reply was a rip of fabric as he rent the side hem of her flimsy silk panties. He worked his hand between her thighs, thrusting his fingers in and out of her, until her knees went weak and her mind faded into a haze of pure sexual need. He stroked her clit over and over until she nearly came against his hand.

Fingers sure, he worked up to her bared breasts. His hands were not gentle as he massaged them, rolling and pinching the nipples until she existed somewhere between the sweetest pain and the sharpest pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck you right now, Lilya,” he murmured. “Up against this wall.”

His coarse words made her prime for him. She spread her legs and tipped up her rear, waiting for him. The sound of his zipper and the gentle whoosh of fabric down skin met her ears, then he was there, pushing the head of his cock deep inside her. He didn’t shove inside; he was too large for that. Little by little, he worked his way in, stretching her muscles to accommodate him.

Breathing hard, she braced herself against the wall as he began to move in long, hard strokes, filling her completely, and making her cry out. His hand found her breasts and played, then dropped once again between her thighs, where he pressed and rotated her clit until an orgasm burst over her as if forced out of her.

It was a freight train. Sweet, powerful ecstasy washed over her, stealing her ability to do anything but hold on against it. Tears filled her eyes. She yelled as it overtook her body and she hung on desperately to the wall so she didn’t collapse.

“I want to see your face,” Alek said, withdrawing his cock from her once the waves of her climax had passed. He turned her to face him. “You’ve got the most beautiful eyes.” His voice was gentler now, less filled with that sudden, mysterious anger that she’d known wasn’t directed at her, but at something beyond both their reaches.

He smoothed his hand over her face and pressed his lips gently to hers as he guided her leg over his hip and pushed inside her again. This time he took her slower, staring into her eyes and kissing her.

A strong man, he held her up against the wall with ease as his cock slid in and out of her. His body rubbed her postclimaxsensitive clit in this position, driving her into another orgasm. Closing her eyes, she moaned as pleasure washed through her a second time. The muscles of her sex gently spasmed, milking his thrusting cock until his head fell back on a groan and he spilled himself inside her.

They clung together for a moment, both breathing heavily. It happened so fast and had been so powerful that Lilya could barely comprehend the event. Surprise seemed to freeze her words in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Alek whispered. “I didn’t mean for this happen, not like this. Not up against a wall.”

“No. Stop apologizing.” She finally found her voice. Cupping his face in her hands, she looked into his eyes. “It’s all right. I’m fine.” Her body still tingled from their encounter. “I’m just a little stunned. I wasn’t expecting this.”

She hadn’t been sure he would ever break through the emotional barrier that had been holding him from her. Once broken, the flood of desire had been alarming.

He pulled her away from the wall and she followed him to the divan. “It was too rough. Especially for—”

“Stop it.” She pushed him down onto the divan and came over him, straddling him. Putting his hands on her still bare breasts, she kissed him, nipping his lower lip. “It wasn’t too rough. It was incredible,” she whispered.

He cupped the nape of her neck and his kiss intensified, his tongue plunging between her lips and tangling with hers deep in her mouth. His kiss was ferocious; it made her breathless. His hands moved over her breasts and his hot tongue found one nipple, then the other. Need rose once again in her and his cock grew hard, pressing against the swollen, aroused flesh of her sex.

His mouth still on her breast, she shifted and pressed the crown of his cock inside her. Slowly, she sank down on the long length until she whimpered from feeling so filled.

He groaned deep, his hands catching in her hair and forcing her mouth to his as she began to ride him. Moving up and down on his cock, he slipped in and out of her in long, deep strokes while they panted into each other’s half-open mouths. The bunch of her skirts pouffed like a cloud of silk around them.

Straining, connected, they moved like one animal beneath her heavy dress, faster and faster, both plunging toward yet another powerful orgasm. When she came she threw her head back and cried out, the muscles of her sex pulsing and rippling around his length. He yelled out her name and burst inside her once again.

Then they collapsed together on the divan, books and papers on the table forgotten.

After it was over, they lay tangled together, breathing heavy. Alek hooked her hair behind her ear. “That was . . .” He trailed off and swallowed hard.

She gave a small laugh. “From that first kiss I knew you weren’t the tame scholar you seem to be.”

He kissed her. “It was you; you made me crazy with lust. Just watching you this morning—”

“Watching me read from a book about history?” She laughed.

His fingers stroked over her bare breast, making the nipple go hard. “Just watching
you
. I could have been watching you scrub pots and had the same reaction.”

Her hand moved over his chest, wishing his shirt was off so she could feel his skin. “You seemed so hungry.” She paused, not sure she should broach the subject. “How long as it been since you were with a woman?”

He stilled for a moment, even his breath seeming to stop in his throat.

Her hand rested on his chest. Had asking him that question been a mistake?

Finally he answered. “It’s been four years.”

“Four years.” She knew there was something here but she didn’t want to push him. If he wished to tell her, he would do so in his own time. “Well, I’m happy to be the one who broke the drought.”

And this, of course, was what Byron had brought her here to do. He must have known that Alek would eventually relent in the presence of an accessible woman.

He kissed the top of her head. “I am too.”

The room had a chill to it, so eventually she redid the buttons of her bodice and Alek built up the fire in the hearth. Then she snuggled down beside him on the divan. For a long time they talked softly and listened to the crackling fire, until they both dozed off.

 

 

Byron walked into the library and found Alek and Lilya entwined and asleep on the divan. A pang of regret clenched his chest, looking at them, knowing what they’d done.

Lilya’s skirts were wrinkled as if they’d been clutched in Alek’s hands. Her hair was coming down from the pins she’d put it up in, the loose tendrils curling around her still-flushed face. The buttons of Alek’s pants were not done up correctly, nor were the buttons of Lilya’s bodice.

Gaze lingering while his heart broke a little, he took a step back and sat down in a nearby chair, pushing a hand through his hair.
Be careful what you wish for, Byron
. This was what he’d hoped would happen between them, yet now that it had occurred—and much quicker than he would have ever presumed—a heaviness had settled into his chest.

He’d known this to be the danger by bringing her here. He’d known that his feelings for Lilya might cause chaos with his goal of helping Alek.

Fists clenching, he stared at the sleeping face of his friend. He hated that Alek had touched her even though it was irrational and unfair.

Shaking his head, he stood.
No
. He had
no
right to feel that way.
This
was why he’d bought her here. For Alek, not for himself.

He stood staring at them.
What a lie
.

After one last long look at the both of them, he left the room, only narrowly preventing himself from punching the wall on his way out.

L
ilya entered Byron’s room after lightly knocking on his door. He sat at a desk near his bed, riffling through a stack of papers and wearing his reading glasses. He set the glasses aside when she entered.

She crossed the room toward him and sat on the edge of his desk, the corner nearest him, and drew a breath. “You need to know what happened between me and Alek this afternoon when you were out of the house.”

He sat back in his chair with a squeak of the fine leather. “I know what happened.”

She drew a careful breath. “I figured you might have guessed.”

“I came back from town to find you tangled like lovers on the library divan, fast asleep. The picture was quite clear.”

Her cheeks heated at the slightly aggressive tone of his voice. “It’s what you brought me here for.”

He reached out and pulled her into his lap. His hand went to her nape and he forced her to look at him. His gaze was hard, his pupils dark, and his gaze intense. “I thought so too, but I may have been wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Her heart thudded in her chest.

His hand wrapped around her waist. “When I found you with him I was jealous, Lilya. No matter how irrational that sounds. No matter how unfair to you or Alek. I can’t control my emotions where you’re concerned.”

She had to stop herself from smiling. Something in her chest let loose, a free, light emotion—
hope?
“You were . . . jealous?” she prompted for more information.

His gaze had focused on her mouth. “As in, I want you for myself.”

“I want to be yours, Byron.” The words slipped out of her softly and without warning. Truth, complete and total.

He pulled her head toward him and kissed her. Her hands rested on either side of his face as his lips skated over hers so slowly and tenderly it made emotion ball up in the back of her throat. A sensation she could only name as yearning made her close her eyes and send out a wish for this man, yet as much as she wanted to think he loved her—she couldn’t believe that was true.

Not her.

It wasn’t possible for a man like Byron to find that much value in a woman like her. He might want her for a sexual relationship, but nothing more. Surely not.

And she wanted more from him. She wanted everything.

“Add a dash of kerr.” Lilya peered over the pot of gently bubbling chicken and vegetables as Byron sprinkled a pinch of the spice into the dish and stirred. “That will give the meat just a little sweetness.”

“I’ve had that spice in my kitchen for the last three months and didn’t know how to use it.”

“Now you do.” She gave him a tight smile.

After that exchange in his bedroom, she wasn’t sure how to act around him. She wasn’t sure what he expected from her now—and what she could expect from him. The comment he’d made had changed the rules and fed the spark of the fantasy that burned in her heart—that perhaps Byron wanted her. Not just sexually and not just for these three weeks—but forever. Yet, as much as she yearned for it to be true—how could it be?

She looked back into the pot. “All right, let that simmer awhile to combine all the flavors. Let’s check the bread.”

He walked over to the baking cavern in the wall and pulled the platform out of the fiery innards of the device.