WidowsWickedWish (16 page)

“How, indeed?” Jack replied before crawling over her until
his hands rested on either side of her head. He loomed over her, wedged his
knees between her legs and Olivia immediately opened to him, her robe parting
from ankles to waist where the belt was tied in a bow.

Jack leaned back onto his haunches and draped her legs over
his thighs, his eyes wandering over the curves and valleys laid out before him.

She looked like a pretty present whose midnight-blue
wrapping had been peeled back to reveal a hidden treasure. Her skin was pale in
the afternoon sunlight drifting from the open windows, her arms long and
shapely where they rested on the folds of the velvet robe beneath her, her
palms open in what stuck him as a vulnerable pose, submissive, supplicating.
Her breasts gently rose and fell with each quiet breath she drew. Her belly was
a long smooth expanse of taut flesh punctuated by delicately curved hip bones.

Jack drew his thumbs over those hipbones and Olivia twitched
beneath the featherlight touch.

“You aren’t thinking to fuck me again, are you?” she asked,
her voice little more than a throaty whisper.

He met her eyes and smiled at the mingled hope and alarm he
heard in her voice. “Ah, Livy. Fucking is all well and good. And sometimes,
like today, it is beyond good, beyond amazing. But I’ve a mind to make love to
you now.”

“I don’t know that I can,” she replied shyly.

“There are a multitude of ways to make love,” he promised.
“What I have in mind will bring you only pleasure, no pain.”

Jack leaned over her once more, his hands cupping her head,
his fingers wandering through the soft curls. He brushed his lips over hers,
gently, slowly, awash in tenderness for the woman who’d cried in his arms, not
with fury or bitterness, but with fear and sorrow.

For her children, for her mother and her brother, for a
marriage devoid of affection and passion.

He’d always imagined that Olivia glided through life, a
perfectly pampered princess, content in the role to which she’d been born.

As she’d poured out her heart to him, he’d realized she
wasn’t content at all, likely hadn’t been for many years.

Jack wanted her content. He wanted to see her smile and
laugh as she’d done during their time together at Idyllwild. He wanted to lift
all those worries and fears, all the sorrow and regret from her slender
shoulders, to heft them onto his own and carry them off.

And he would. As he trailed his lips over her cheek, down
along the delicate slope of her jaw, he vowed that he would solve her problems,
one at a time, until she was once again the smiling, serene lady who reveled in
the adoration and reverence of all of London.

He’d awoken her to the wicked delights of passion. Now he
would gift her with tenderness and affection, show her how a man ought to treat
his woman, his wife.

Jack trailed his mouth, open and wet, down the fragile
column of her neck, smiled against her flesh when she let out a soft, fluttery
sigh and her hands rose to his shoulders. Her fingers skimmed him, her touch
light, languid.

“It is a sin against all that is holy that your husband
withheld his affection from you,” he whispered into the hollow above her
collarbone before dipping his tongue into the indentation.

Olivia hummed quietly, tilting her head to afford him
greater access to her neck and shoulder.

“You deserve affection and tenderness,” he continued as his
lips coasted over her shoulder. “That was your loss. But not introducing you to
the wonders of passion, of desire and good old-fashioned lust, that was
Palmerton’s loss.”

“He never wanted…” she began before her words fell away when
he trailed one hand along her side, his fingers lightly brushing over the slope
of her breast, the indent of her waist, and the curve of her hip.

“He was a fool,” he murmured as his mouth traveled down her
chest and between her breasts. “Your passion is a gift, Olivia. A gift I will
forever be grateful you’ve bestowed upon me.”

“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, her fingers drifting down the
back of his neck.

Jack carefully scooted back on his knees, gently pushing her
legs farther apart, while he placed a trail of warm, wet kissed down her belly,
stopping to linger at her navel. He limned the tight little circle, delved his
tongue into the tiny little crevice.

Olivia twitched beneath him, her hips rising off the bed
before falling back. She sighed around a fractured breath, the muscles of her
abdomen clenching. Jack grasped her hips and repeated the kiss, diving deeper
with his tongue, until she squirmed beneath him, her hands fisting in his hair
as if she might yank his wet mouth away from her flesh. Instead she pulled him
to her, her hips undulating beneath his hands.

Jack’s cock twitched, began to pulse between his legs as he
caught her scent, vanilla with a hint of lemon, underlain with the unmistakable
scent of her arousal. He drew the musky aroma deep into his lungs and, with one
last parry of his tongue, abandoned her navel for pleasures south.

He knew the exact moment she realized his intent. When his
lips drifted lower, when his chin brushed the dark curls between her parted
legs, Olivia’s entire body quivered. Jack dipped his mouth, swirled his tongue
over the soft curls above her mound, danced his lips along the skin just above,
and waited to see if she would protest.

Protest or not, he would put his mouth on her. He would pull
her clit between his lips to lavish the tight bud, to torment and tease her. He
would thrust his tongue into her quim, to stroke over her wet walls, to gather
her dew, to torment and tease himself with the taste of her pleasure.

Already his cock was a hard as a pike, just imagining her
flavor on his tongue, her juices flowing over his lips.

Jack dragged his hands from her hips, his thumbs coasting
into the twin crevices where her thighs met her mound, and down along her
nether lips. He pushed her legs wide, lifted them until, without a murmur of
protest, she planted her feet on the bed and opened herself to him. Jack sunk
his hands beneath her, gripped her round ass, and lifted her to his waiting
mouth.

“Oh, God,” Olivia groaned around a quick inhalation as Jack
sifted his tongue through her curly hairs, aiming straight for her clit. He
found the hard pebble, circled, once, twice, and again.

“Oh Jack, oh Jack,” she chanted, her hips bucking and
swiveling, her legs trembling.

Jack flattened his tongue and dragged it over her clit, back
and forth, increasing the pressure with each pass until she tilted her hips,
pressing into his mouth. Her fingers clenched his neck, rose along the back of
his head to grip him hard. She pulled him to her with a low moan.

Jack continued to minister to her perfect little pearl,
circling the jewel, flicking his tongue over and around, his hands gently
squeezing her ass, holding her in place despite her almost desperate squirming
and twisting. He lashed her with his tongue, pulled her clit between his lips,
to lightly scrape his teeth over and around.

“Please,” she cried, her hands fisted in his hair as she
undulated against his mouth, chased his tongue, raced toward climax.

“Damn Livy,” he growled against her hot, wet flesh.

“Help me, Jack,” she begged, pressing her clit against his
tongue, her moist folds against his chin. “I need…I need…”

Jack released one soft round cheek, drew one finger down the
crease of her ass and circled the tight rosette he found there. He tapped the
puckered little hole to the beat of his tongue flicking over her clit.

Olivia writhed beneath him, raw, desperate moans falling
from her open mouth, her legs shaking as she held herself suspended above the
bed with only one of his hands to anchor her. With one final tap on her rosebud
that almost penetrated the tight passage, Jack trailed his finger down to
circle her sweet little cunny.

She was wet, wonderfully wet. She swiveled her hips, chased
his circling finger.

“Yes, yes,” she panted.

Jack dipped the tip of his finger into her heat before
retreating to circle the rim of her tight quim again and again. And all the
while he kept up a steady onslaught on her throbbing clit with lips, tongue and
teeth.

“Jack,” Olivia moaned, nearly unseating his mouth from her
flesh as she bucked against him.

Again he dipped into her hot cunny, carefully easing his
finger to the first knuckle, the second. Her flesh was tender and swollen from
the pounding he’d given her less than an hour before. He had no wish to bring
her pain, had promised her only pleasure.

Withdrawing his finger, he released her clit, smiling grimly
at her wail of protest, and dropped down between her straining thighs. He fused
his mouth over the opening to her body and drove his tongue into her tight
channel.

Olivia gasped at this new invasion, her hips bucking wildly,
twisting and wiggling, as she sought to take his tongue deeper into her body.
Jack thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew, opening her, stretching the
swollen portal before returning to her neglected clit with a vengeance.

He lashed the pebbled flesh, grazed it with his teeth, and
slowly, steadily, pushed one finger into her cunny to the hilt.

“Can you take it?” he panted against her moist, hot flesh.

“Yes, oh yes,” she mewled, her inner walls clasping tight.

Jack withdrew and gently thrust his finger back into her,
again and again, while he latched on to her clit and sucked it between his
lips, setting up a tempo that matched the slow, relentless thrust of his
finger.

“More, I need more,” Olivia begged.

Jack gave her more, adding a second finger to the first,
forging deep into her clenching quim until his knuckles bumped her folds with
each gentle thrust. He changed the angle of his hand, pressed the knuckles of
his two remaining fingers against her rosette. Each slow lunge of his hand
between her spread thighs speared his fingers deep into her hot little pussy
while his knuckles tapped against the puckered flesh beneath.

Olivia let out a cry, her cunny clasping his fingers, her
clit pulsing between his lips, and her anus puckering against his knuckles. She
bowed her back, lifting her convulsing flesh higher, tighter against his mouth
and hand as she came long and hard. Her entire body shook with the force of the
orgasm that racked her body, from her toes pressed into the mattress to her
fingers yanking at his hair.

Jack held her there above the bed and absorbed her passion,
pulled her fragrance deep into his lungs, her taste deep into his mouth, his
cock pulsing, his breath rushing past his lips to caress her flesh.

When her trembling subsided, when her fingers released their
death grip upon his hair, and she pulled a long, broken breath into her chest,
Jack lowered her to the bed and rose to his knees between her legs.

He tore at the belt around his waist, shrugged the silk robe
from his shoulders, wrapped his fingers around his aching shaft, and began to
pump his hips in counterpoint to his stroking hand. Olivia’s eyelashes
fluttered and her eyes slowly opened, her gaze cloudy and dazed. A soft smile
drifted around the edges of her pretty mouth as she met his gaze.

Jack wondered what she saw in his eyes, what she saw in his
clamped jaw, what she heard in his rasping breaths as he fought to pull air
into his lungs and his hand stroked the length of his cock, faster and faster.

Her eyes dropped to his pulsing shaft. She drew a fractured
breath, let it out on a low moan. Her tongue came out to brush against her
lower lip. Trembling arms rose, her hands hovering in the air between them
before falling to rest on her belly. She kneaded the soft flesh, her eyes
riveted to his throbbing cock and the hand that pumped down the rigid length.

Jack felt his balls tightening, knew he was only a few
seconds from coming on her belly, on the small, delicate hands that drifted
over her flushed skin.

He’d be damned if he’d waste his seed on her belly.

“Pull your legs up,” he gritted out between clenched teeth,
his free hand moving to lift one long leg up and push it back so that she was
open to him. Olivia hurried to lift the other, until her thighs were wide
apart, her knees pressed against the sides of her breasts, pushing them
together.

As the first shivers of release slammed into him, racing
through his balls and pulsing down his shaft, Jack lunged over her. He brought
the fat tip of his shaft to the opening of her quim, pushed forward, forging
his cock into her body.

Olivia gasped as he filled her, stretched her. Her muscles
clenched around the engorged head, clamping like a tight ring around him.

And then he was climaxing, hard and fast, a feral groan
ripped from his lips as he pumped his hand down his shaft, the fat head buried
in her tight cunny, and wave after wave of pleasure roaring through him.

Collapsing on the bed beside her, Jack hauled her into his
arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. Olivia curled her body around him, her
legs entangling with his, one hand coming to rest over his furiously beating
heart.

They lay wrapped around one another until Jack gained
control of his breathing, until the blood slowed in his veins, until his mind
began to clear of the swirling fog of mingled pleasure and satisfaction.

“I’ve missed you,” Olivia whispered, her hand idly circling
his nipple.

Jack drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly as his hand came
to rest over hers, trapping it against his heart.

Marry me.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, he even opened his
mouth to deliver them before he thought better of it.

You must not ask me to marry…not ever again.

She’d stuttered the words out between heaving sobs as she
curled around him, her tears wetting his neck.