Perilous Risk (38 page)

It did haunt his sleep from time to time, but he had purposely banished the thought from his waking hours. He made an effort to gentle his expression and he pulled tenderly on her hands. “Come love, the water grows cold.”

He led her to the bed then retrieved a bottle of oil from the night table beside the bed. He poured the oil that had been laced with mint and other herbs to ease muscle soreness into his hands. Her skin glided like silk beneath his touch as he carefully massaged her limbs, her shoulders, her back. Gradually, the raw edge of hatred inside of him eased and was replaced by a sense of being entrusted with something precious.

Rebecca’s heart.

He would work damned hard to prove himself worthy of such a gift.

The meal of stewed chicken and carrots and potatoes he’d called for came, but Rebecca was more interested in the apples and soft cheese.

He took some of the bread and chewed it without tasting it. Despite his queasiness, he forced himself to swallow. He would soon need all his strength.

She seemed to understand his need for quiet and didn’t attempt to draw him into conversation. In all the time since that night that he had followed her from Saxby’s deathbed to David Kean’s house, she was remarkably calmer now. He knew he could have avoided causing her much of the worry and agitation she’d suffered, had he simply been open and honest with her from the start. That smote his heart most of all. But how was he to have known that she could have accepted the truth? How many women could have accepted it?

Yes, he had forgotten her strengths, but this was the Rebecca he remembered. Intuitively understanding of others with an endless well of compassion.

He tucked her into bed and kissed her briefly. Calling on all his self-discipline, he forced himself to lie down beside her, though he burned inside to get on with tonight’s business. He closed his eyes.

Vague dreams passed through his mind. A gentle touch on his face, the tickle of breath against his ear. He reached out and grasped her slim waist. The bed rocked slightly as she shifted. Her breasts touched his chest, soft warmth yet the tips were hard. The scent of liniment overtook his senses.

None of his past bedmates had ever smelt like that.

He smiled and caressed her hair. “Rebecca.”

She slid her hand down his stomach.

Sparks danced over his flesh and his muscles tightened in anticipation of her touch as it moved lower. And lower yet.

He never indulged in carnal acts before an engagement of his duty. But how could he ever resist Rebecca?

Her hand brushed the head of his cock.

He caught his breath.

She closed her hand. Grasping him. Stroking.

A groan tore from his lips. He reached down to put his hand over hers and tightened her hand. He jerked his hips. His heart beat quickened to a fierce gallop. With her hand still tightened by his grip, she stroked him.

“God, Rebecca.”

She shifted and put her leg over his then shifted again. The heat of her quim slid over his thigh.

Wet. Oh Christ, she was so damned wet.

He moved his leg, pressing against her.

That sound she made—a moan or a gasp? It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Fluid gushed from him, drenching his hand. And hers.

He groaned, releasing her hand. He grasped her shoulder and rolled her until she was beneath him. He put his hand on her cleft, slipping his fingers into that beguiling, silken lusciousness.

She arched up, pressing, pressing…

“Oh Stephen.”

“Fuck.” He grasped his cock and positioned himself at her entrance. He thrust forward, sliding down into her silken slickness.

She clenched him.

On a groan, he bent his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder and bit her.

Her body began to shake.

His cock quaked with the urge to spill its seed immediately. He grasped her hips and froze, pressing himself against the mouth of her womb. “Fuck, fuck, Rebecca!”

She moaned.

He released her hips and reached for her legs. “Embrace…” A groan forced itself up from his depths. “Embrace me.”

She wrapped her legs around him and arched herself.

He sank all the way in to the hilt and gave a quick, hard thrust.

Her petite breasts bounced. Her nipples were rigid peaks, bright cherry-red. He licked his lips then bent and placed several hasty kisses on them, rubbing his lips against their erect tips, opening his mouth to taste her salty sweetness.

She writhed, a low moan vibrating through her chest.

“Christ,” he said breathlessly against her.

She twined her fingers into his hair and arched her chest.

He nipped at her. The velvet-over-firmness sensation of her slick channel made his cock throb and ache. He growled in his throat and with a jerk of his hips he withdrew then propelled back into her. Her silken heat sucked him in. Her inner walls hugged him.

He thrust into her again and again.

The sounds of her wetness became more audible. Her cunt began to draw. She made those convulsive little gasps that set his blood on fire.

“Come for me.” His voice grew hoarser, as it was prone to do under moments of extreme duress. “Come for me.”

Her cunt squeezed him.

Her hips bucked off the bed and she clutched his head and shrieked.

He grasped her hips, stilling her as he grit his teeth against the urge to spill his seed.

She lay panting. Her hair soaked and sticking to her scalp, spread like a fan against the white pillowslip. Her eyes tightly closed and shadowed by faint purple. Her nipples still erect.

She was so goddamned lovely.

He bent and put his mouth on one of those bright pink peaks. Suckled as though he were starving for the taste of her.

“Claim me.” Her voice was breathless.

He sucked harder.

“Claim me. Completely.” The note of supplication, begging, softened her words.

Her meaning was clear to him.

His cock went painfully rigid. He’d never been so hard in his life. He was certain of it. He withdrew then rolled her onto her stomach. He traced her spine, admiring the trimness of her waist and the gentle flare of her hips, then ran his hand over her surprisingly full buttocks. One would never guess at the sensuality of her arse when she was clothed. Every line of her body was perfection. God, she was made specifically to fulfil his every lustful dream.

He moved away from her then searched in his night table for a bottle of plain oil. Having found it, he poured oil over his fingers then returned to her.

He slid his fingers into the crease of her buttocks then lightly rubbed her arsehole. “You want me there?”

“Yes, claim me. Make me yours completely.”

He slicked her puckered ring with the oil. She was as perfect here as elsewhere. He eased his finger inside. She arched up.

Stephen withdrew his finger then crawled to his knees, grasped her hips and thrust his cock into her slick quim. She hugged his length. He groaned then circled her rosette again. He eased his finger back inside, going this time until he had two knuckles inserted. Her inner walls clenched him, fiercely. He put his hand on her neck and pressed her head to the bed.

She was breathing quickly, so quickly, in little convulsive gasps. He thrust again and again. She was clenching him and getting wetter and wetter. Having driven himself to near exhaustion, he paused to catch his breath. God, how he loved her cunt.

He fucked her thoroughly, bringing her right to the edge of a second release, until he had to hold his breath and freeze his body to stop himself from coming.

“Stephen…Stephen!” The frantic note in her voice made his heart beat quicker, made his cock throb with desire.

He gripped her neck. “Don’t come.”

Her cunt grasped at his rod convulsively, and she writhed and bucked her hips.

Exquisitely painful pleasure rocked through his body, the desperate urge to come at once.

He released her neck and took her hips in a ruthless grasp, stilling her. “Be still.”

“Oh Stephen, Stephen!”

He withdrew from her slick heat then picked up the oil and applied it generously to his shaft. He positioned himself at her arsehole.

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Easy,” he said, gripping her hip and pressing forward. There was some resistance. She was surely out of practice. He stroked her buttock, gliding over the silken flesh. “My beauty.”

He gave her a sharp smack.

She gasped.

He struck her again, more firmly.

She cried out.

A bright red handprint coloured her porcelain skin. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

He felt the easing in her body. She laid her head down as close to the bed as it would go.

“That’s the way, my beauty.” He struck her buttocks several more times until her flesh was bright pink.

Her body shook with her ever-increasing breaths.

“Bear down, my beautiful girl.” He pushed against her. The resistance gave way and his cock broke through the tight ring of muscle. He slid in, partway.

She moaned.

“My beautiful girl.” He stroked her back, sliding up to her shoulders. He clasped her neck, lightly. He slid in deeper.

“Ohh…” She shuddered slightly.

“Good girl, that’s the way, take me, take all of me.”

He felt her body relax that incremental last bit. He slid deeper, deeper until his balls came to rest against her cunt.

She gave a little wailing gasp. A sound of such utter surrender.

Satisfaction swept through him. The feeling was so primal, so fervent, it took his breath away. Nothing could have ever prepared him for such an intense feeling. He reeled in its wake. God, she was his.

His.

He tightened his hold on her neck as his hips, as though of their own volition, began to pump against hers. Lust, hunger, the need to possess, break, love her rose within him in an uncontrollable tide.

He must go slowly at first. He grit his teeth and attempted to slow his breathing. But the emotion driving him would not be held back. He was moving faster, pumping harder.

She wailed.

He kept fucking her.

Her wails grew louder and louder.

The blood rushed in his ears, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might explode. He reached around her and touched her mons, sought the little erect nub. He brushed then rubbed it skilfully with a circular motion. His mind was consumed with the need to drive into her again and again and again.

The ring of her anus tightened around him.

She screamed.

He drove into her faster and more furiously than ever until he had to withdraw. He fisted his cock and pumped himself. The inexorable surging took over and his come roiled up his shaft and shot out the head to fall in thick white ribbons on her buttocks.

All the energy drained from his body, and the blood seemed to drain from his head. It was all he could do to move away from her and fall against his pillow. Sleep claimed him, swiftly.

* * * *

At the gentle shake, Rebecca opened her eyes and focused sleepily on Stephen’s face in the waning firelight.

He leant closer and kissed her, brief but intense pressure. He raised his head. “I have to go out for the evening.”

“Where…” She licked her lips and tried to focus her hazy thoughts. Why would he go anywhere on their first night spent truly together? She twined her hands around the back of his neck and drew him down. “No, you don’t really have to go, do you?”

He studied her and drew his brows together, a pained expression. He put his mouth on hers, putting his hand at the corner of her jaw, kissing her open-mouthed this time and sucking her breath away with his ardency.

After a while, he lifted his head again and studied her so closely that she felt herself blushing. “What?” she asked.

“Oh, Rebecca, I would not leave you but I have business that cannot wait.”

To hide her crestfallen expression, she rolled onto her side. “It is close to midnight, what possible business can you have?”

“Business,” he said, in such a grave tone that she glanced over her shoulder.

He was dressed oddly, like a labourer, all in black.

A heavy weight settled upon her stomach. His business. Fear for him prickled over her scalp. This was what it would mean to love him. To struggle to believe that he would act cautiously, to try not to worry over his safety. And to fail each time.

“There now, I’ll be back before dawn.” He gave her bottom a smart smack. “I want you to sleep. We will leave very early in the morning.”

She sat up at that. “Where are we going?”

“We should leave the city. Just for a little while, until I can sort matters out. I was thinking of taking you to visit that uncle of yours.”

* * * *