Lord of the Rakes (11 page)

“I have no master.” She straddled him fully now, her knees against the mattress, her thighs clamped around his. He was so hard and his hips were so broad they stretched her, and even that felt good. There was no part of touching him that did not feel good.

“I see you must be taught.” He shoved his hand beneath her bunched-up skirts. She thought for one startled minute he meant to pinch her thigh as he had her nipples. But instead his strong, clever, busy fingers found her folds, and the knot of hot, damp flesh at their apex.

He pressed there. The world stopped. The shock of pure pleasure froze it in place.

“There now. Our instruction begins in earnest.” He took the nubbin delicately between two fingers to caress. “Shall I show you what this can do when handled by your master?” He shifted his fingers and stroked her once, and then again.

“Oh!” gasped Caroline. “Oh . . .”

“I did not hear you properly, miss. I asked shall I show you?” He clamped his other hand across her buttocks, thrusting her forward so she pressed firmly against his knowing fingers. He stroked her again and brilliant pleasure suffused her.

“Yes,” Caroline croaked.

“Yes, my master.” He circled his fingertips. The pleasure redoubled and so did her need. She wanted more. So much more. She would do anything he asked to get it. Even beg.

“Yes, my master. Please.”

“That’s better.” Philip urged her buttocks forward so she had to nestle even closer onto his hand. “That is much better, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my master,” Caroline groaned. She arched her back and her hips, begging with her whole body that he stroke her again. And he did. He rubbed her with a steady, intense rhythm. She clenched her thighs around his. She was wet and soft and slid against the fabric of his breeches. The sensation of it only heightened the pleasure. Delight knotted itself in her center, winding tighter with each stroke.

“Faster,” she panted. “Please, my master.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, my lady. You beg so prettily. You shall have what it is you want.” He did stroke faster, harder, trapping her between his hands, holding her in place while he rubbed her to tighten the pleasure at her center. She burned. She clenched. She moaned and struggled against his hands, but that only made him hold her more tightly, which was all that she wanted. All and everything.

“Philip . . .”

Inside her, something came undone. A pure, clean sensation filled her and she was made bodiless by its pleasure. For a single, sweet moment she soared light and free, and when she came back to herself, it was to skim the cresting waves that shuddered her body, and rocked her hips against Philip’s hands and thighs. He was calling her name, urging her on. Then he was pulling her close, laying her down on top of him, so they could together savor the last fading tremors of the pleasure he had lavished upon her.

“T
here, there, hush now.” Philip rolled them both onto their sides so he could hold her close, kissing her gently while the shudders of pleasure eased. “Lie against me, Caroline. Let me hold you.”

“But we didn’t . . . you didn’t even take off your . . .” Caroline seemed to be having trouble finishing her sentences, so she just stroked her hand across the front of his breeches. The ridge there felt even more pronounced. As drained as she felt, its shape under her hand still roused a curiosity she felt certain no decent women should feel.

But Philip took hold of her wrist to still her restless touch. “That will be taken care of in due course. For this moment just enjoy what you are feeling.”

She did. She enjoyed the pounding of her blood beneath her heated skin, the brush of the crisp sheets across her derriere and her legs. Best of all, though, was Philip’s warm chest pressed against her shoulder and breast, accompanied by the gentle glide of his hand as he caressed her back down to the curve of her lower back. Her eyes drifted shut. She could easily fall asleep like this, but she did not want to. She was not ready for sleep to take her away from Philip.

“Here, let’s get this off you.” Philip tugged at her thoroughly rumpled dress. “Then you will be more comfortable. Sit up.”

Caroline did as instructed. Philip pulled the dress off over her head and tossed it aside. Then he settled back on the pillows and just looked at her. This time, his regard was surprisingly gentle, lacking either mischief or desire. There was something frank in it, something open and quiet that managed to make her very aware she was naked except for her stockings, and at the same time make her not care. At least mostly.

“Do you . . . am I . . .”

“Oh, yes.” Philip ran his fingertips up her arm, around her shoulder and down again, to the very top of her left breast. “Yes, you are.” The words glided across her skin, mingling with his lazy touch.

“Now you.” She pressed her palms against the curve of his thighs.

Philip laughed. “You won’t give up, will you?”

“Well, you cannot be comfortable in these.” She tugged at his waistband. “Besides, I want to see you.” In fact, her heart had begun to pound from the need to see him.

“Well, if it is what my lady desires, who am I to deny her? You may proceed.”

“
I
may?” she drew back, shocked.

“You undid the rest,” he said with one of his maddening, placid smiles. “It’s only fitting you finish the task.” He folded his arms behind his head, allowing her a truly breathtaking view of his muscled chest and taut stomach. He was clearly prepared to wait. At the same time Caroline was acutely conscious of the way his gaze rested on her bared breasts, and then glided lower, to the damp, and completely exposed tangle of dark curls. His fresh regard reminded her of how he had touched her so recently, plying his fingers and his tongue against her flesh. Memory tightened her nipples again, which in turn broadened Philip’s grin.

“You are a wicked man,” Caroline informed him. “And a terrible tease.”

“I am. I don’t deny it.” He shrugged, which did all manner of interesting things to his chest and those broad, beautiful shoulders. “But, how am I to help myself? You are so lovely when you laugh.”

“That is very kind of you.” She rested her fingers against his chest. She never wanted to stop touching him. She could never do without this feeling, not ever again.

“It is nothing less than the truth, Caroline.” Philip covered her hand with his. Caroline’s throat tightened at the gentleness in his words. But that gentleness was soon gone, and his grip shifted, catching her fingers up firmly. “Now, are you going to get me out of these breeches, or must I be cross with you?” He lowered his thick brows and glared at her with mock severity.

Caroline pressed her mouth into a thin line and reached for the buttons on his fly. They were flat and large, which made undoing them awkward. She had to scoot herself forward and lean over him. This position made her breasts swing freely, which felt very strange and a little uncomfortable. It also seemed to cause Philip some difficulty with his breathing. She felt his muscles tighten as she worked, her fingers brushing his hips and groin.

Finally, the last button came undone. Caroline pushed aside the fly, and the folds of his small clothes, baring Philip fully and finally to her view.

Objectively, Caroline decided, the male member was a rather silly-looking thing. Its flesh was darker than the ruddy skin of his thighs, and seemed, to her inexpert gaze, to be of a different texture as well. Its shape was . . . strangely complex.

“Well?” asked Philip. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yes.” In fact, the more she looked, the more pleasing it became to her. There was a vitality to it, an entirely male mystery her body was urging her to explore. “It’s . . . larger than I expected.”

Philip sucked in a deep breath. “And you, Caroline, are a flatterer. Here, help me.” He lifted his hips. Together, they stripped away his breeches and smalls, until he lay on her sheets fully naked, and completely magnificent. Tension curled in Caroline’s center, bringing back all her warm, urgent hunger. Of their own volition, Caroline’s fingertips wandered across Philip’s chest, touching his nipples lightly and combing through the crisp hairs. She desperately wanted to touch his member, but she couldn’t quite make herself. Which was ridiculous and she knew it. Just like it was ridiculous that she wanted so much to talk about the feelings he was helping her discover, simply by being naked and unashamed with her now. Ridiculous, but true nonetheless. “I didn’t realize . . .” she stammered, searching for words. “I never knew how much . . .”

“Never?” Philip shifted his position so he could take her hand to kiss, one finger at a time. He looked at her over the top of her hand, and the heat of that glance coupled with the touch of his mouth against her swelled fresh urgency within her. “Not even alone, in the dark? You never slipped your own little hand between these soft thighs, perhaps like this?” He pressed her palm against her leg where she had it crooked up on the mattress, then he laid both his hands over hers and began to move her, making her rub her own thigh, just at the top of her blue-ribboned garter.

“You never once touched yourself here?” Philip slid her hand upward. The lassitude that had taken over after Caroline’s pleasured climax drew back the last inch, revealing a fire in her blood that had not dimmed in the least.

“Or here?” She knew what he was going to do and an odd little mewling noise escaped her, even before he cupped her hand around her damp curls, pressing her palm against her folds. “Never rubbed until all the good feelings came?”

“You are shocking, sir,” she made herself say, even as her hips rocked eagerly against the heel of her hand.

“Am I?” he inquired mildly “Well.” He lifted himself up onto his knees, looming over her as he snatched up both of her wrists. Caroline gasped, annoyed that he’d taken her hand away from her folds. “Perhaps you only played with your pretty breasts.” He brought her palms to her breasts, squeezing her fingers and stroking her hands so she stroked herself. It felt so good. “But perhaps you imagined a lover touching you? About having a man near you, so you could hold him, thusly?” He took her right hand and wrapped it around him.

The sensation of that first touch of Philip’s most private flesh flashed through her like lightning. His skin was velvet soft there. The heat and the strength of him was so close to the surface Caroline was sure she would be burned by it. He groaned and he tightened his grip, their grip. Her hand tightened against her breast at the same moment, and the pleasure redoubled.

“How would I know how a man liked to be held?” She meant the words to be saucy, but they came out as little more than a whisper.

“Very true, very true.” How could he speak so calmly while they were doing this? But Philip’s calm was a facade, Caroline realized. He was panting, and when she squeezed him, and herself, he groaned.

“You would never know how to hold a man.” He took her around the waist, lying back and drawing her with him so they lay side by side. “Or how you must be firm. For men are unruly creatures and a lady must always be firm with them.”

“Most unruly.” Taking the hint, she wrapped both hands around him. He closed his eyes, lost to the sensation of her touch. His skin was ridged, and the texture of it was enthralling. There was a groove on the underside that she traced with her thumb, and was rewarded with a long groan. Now Caroline smiled. Greed and curiosity moved her hands, up and down. “Wicked, treacherous tempters.” She was panting now. Her breasts ached. She wanted to touch herself again, but she did not want to let go of Philip. It felt to delightfully wicked to be making him pant and moan and thrust against her palms.

“Oh, yes, that’s good,” he gasped. “Like that, Caroline, just like that. Now I will take care of your little self here.” He reached between her legs, and she rocked her hips toward his, helping his hand slide between her thighs and part her folds so he could settle his fingertips inside. She already knew how good he could make this feel, and she wanted more of it. He fondled her gently, rousing her eager pleasure. Caroline moaned and squeezed him. That seemed to be the right thing to do, because he stroked her more deeply, gliding his fingers back and forth to explore her soft, hot flesh.

Her thighs brushed against his. She imagined wrapping her legs around him, now that there was nothing between them. She imagined straddling him again and sliding herself against him. Oh, it would feel so good. She was sure of it. And yet there was something he’d said, just a moment ago. Something important.

“Is it . . . am I . . . too little?”

Philip cracked one eye open to look at her. “Does it matter? Usually that’s a male concern.”

“But you’re going to . . . you . . .” She ran her palms up his length once more and let her fingers compass his girth. “You might not
fit
.”

“Hmm . . . well . . . let me see . . .” His hand shifted against her folds, momentarily destroying her ability to think. With one finger, he traced a slow circle around her entrance. All the muscles in her midsection tightened abruptly and Caroline gasped. “I do not foresee any trouble here,” murmured Philip. “But it is best to be sure.” He began to rub her there, his fingers circling and gently pressing. Her hands that had been so busy with him stilled and her eyes closed. She wanted to concentrate entirely on the way his fingers explored her, and then pressed, and softly slipped inside. Oh, that felt so good. So good that her muscles all tried to tighten around him to hold him in place.

“So strong, so very eager.” He was laughing at her, but she didn’t care, because he’d begun to move his fingers in and out of her. The long, patient motion sent shivers of fresh delight through the core of her. “And I don’t think there will be any problem about fit.”

“Oh, good.” Her head fell against his shoulder, and her cheek stroked him restlessly as her body moved to the rhythm of his touch.

“Is it good, Caroline? Do you want more?” His breath was hot against her skin. He lifted himself up on his elbow and kissed her mouth. “Do you want it deeper?” But he kissed her again, making it impossible for her to speak. She clasped his shoulders, pulling him closer and thrusting her tongue in his mouth. He chuckled and opened to her invasion. He also took the very firm hint, pressed his fingers deeper, stretching her. It was a strange sensation, as all his touches had been, but it was very good and she did want more.

“You shall have it,” he whispered, although she had not spoken aloud. He drew his hand out from her and she clamped her teeth down around a groan of pure frustration. Which only brought back his wicked, impossible grin. He rolled her the rest of the way onto her back, coming up over her. Their gazes locked. He had his arms planted on either side of her head. She reached up, touching his face and his smiling mouth. She slid her fingers across his lips and down his arms, which were taut from supporting his own weight.

“There will be some pain. I can’t help that,” he said.

“I want this,” she said. “I want you.”

His smile sent a stab of sweetness through her. “Then open for me, Caroline,” he said. “Let me be inside you.”

“Yes.” She took his face in both hands, holding him in place. “Yes, please, Philip.”

He closed his eyes and she was sure it was relief that washed through him. Slowly, keeping his weight on his arms and his knees, Philip lowered himself against her. His blunt tip brushed her, and her hips tilted up. The whole of her body wanted him. He slid deeper into her and rested for a moment. She moaned and ground her hips upward, trying to force him all the way inside.

“Patience, patience, patience,” he chanted. “You’ll have all you want, I swear, I swear.”

Philip shifted himself until he’d seated itself against her entrance, stretching her as his fingers had stretched her a moment before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to push inside her. The pleasure was intense, dragging another moan from her throat. Philip was murmuring, whispering, perhaps even pleading. She couldn’t understand him. She was entirely submerged beneath the sensation of him slipping one deliberate inch at a time into her. Philip was straining, struggling to keep control. Caroline did not want control. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, trying to pull him close, to force him deeper, but he was still too strong. With maddening deliberation, he eased farther inside her, and farther yet.