Love and Scandal, page 18
“Don’t you want to…”
“Never,” he muttered, his voice a guttural growl against her skin. “I never want to pull out.”
“You can’t stay there forever,” she said with a breathless chuckle.
“Pity, that.” He sighed. “And you, my tender sweet, are beginning to shiver.”
Her legs felt wobbly as she pulled off of him, his member softening and shrinking, wet from the mingled juices of their lovemaking. He pulled up his trousers, then wrapped the robe around her and she collapsed onto the chair.
“Come down here,” he said, pulling her down onto the floor in front of the fire. He rolled onto his side and pulled her close, in the curve of his body, cradling her head on his arm. He reached up, grabbed a soft tapestry cover from the arm of the chair and pulled it over them where they lay together.
Warmth began to seep into her bones again, and she closed her eyes. She was tired, so very weary, and had not been sleeping well at all in the awful inn room. When she opened her eyes again she realized, by the state of the fire, that she had slept. “Oh,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow and wiping her eyes. “How long have I slept?”
“Just an hour,” he said, pulling her down and close again.
“Mmm.” She was facing the fire, and she felt his big warm hand caressing her naked bottom. It felt wonderful. “Jamie?”
“Mmm?”
“Is it always like that?”
“Not always.”
“Oh. Why not?”
He kissed her ear and moved down to her neck. She was finding it hard to think again, a persistent affliction whenever he was near her. “Why not?” she repeated.
He sighed and rolled her over onto her back. “You do like to ask questions, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She gazed up at him. The lines of his face were harsh, his cheekbones angular, his jaw firm, his nose a hawk-like beak with the bristly mustache beneath it, but in his eyes was a softer expression than she had ever seen there. She reached up and touched his cheek, cradling it in her palm, then slid her hand down and pushed it under the fabric of his shirt, capping his muscular shoulder.
“All right, I’ll tell you what I think,” he said. “Not every woman feels as you did. I think it depends upon a kind of openness to the experience. You are the kind of woman who enjoys new experiences and new feelings. You’ve never felt that before, have you, that ecstasy?”
“No, never, it was… Oh, I can’t explain it. I felt like I was floating. And I was dizzy, but it was a wonderful dizziness, like I was as light as a feather.” She ran her hand down and his stomach muscles convulsed under her touch.
“It is called orgasm, my sweet, and some think women do not experience it in the same way men do. For men it is how our bodies expel our seed into a woman.”
“Oh,” she said, a little frightened by the implications. “You…you did so, into me.”
“Yes,” he said, gently kissing her cheek. “Oh yes, and very deeply. But by my calculation, based on something you said to me the last time we made love, you should not be capable of becoming pregnant right now for another week or so. There are times when it is relatively safe to make love, without fear of pregnancy resulting, and times when it is not.”
His well of knowledge was deep. She gazed into his dark eyes. “I experienced release of some kind, and more than once. If for men it is to release their…their seed, then why do women experience it?”
He laughed, his expression more open and joyous than she had ever thought to see on his face. “I don’t know,” he said. “I only know some women are more capable of enjoying sexual play than other women.”
“It’s wonderful,” she sighed.
“Ah,” he said with a teasing tone, “but it was only so sweet an experience for you because of my skill, you see.”
She stretched languidly, her eyes closed, but gasped as she felt him kissing her bare stomach. “Oh!” He licked her skin and moved up to her breasts. Her nipples puckered as he wet them, first one and then the other. “Oh, yes, I do like that. It makes me tingle.” Her hand brushed down over his trousers and she felt him, stiff again, ready for more passionate play.
He pulled her robe off and pushed her onto her stomach on the tapestry throw cover, rubbing her back and down to her bottom, kneading and tickling, then pushing her legs open slightly, as he dipped his hand between her legs and tenderly stroked. When she tried to move he said, “No! Let me take care of you.”
She stopped moving, and he rubbed her back, then kissed her bottom as he tickled between her legs. Quiescent but trembling with desire, she accepted his petting, feeling the moisture seep between her legs at his skillful ministrations. Finally though, as he licked her bottom and teased her into a frenzy of desire, she struggled to sit up, saying, “But I want to…”
He smacked her bottom.
“How dare you!” she cried.
“Did it hurt?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“And it stopped you from wiggling about.”
She wriggled again and said, “I will do as I please, sir!”
“Unless you stay still, I shall spank you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasped, trying to turn over.
“I will indeed dare,” he said and pulled her over his knee, smacking her bottom.
Oh. She felt a trickle of pleasure and wriggled, still trying to get up. When he smacked her bottom again, she realized the sharp sensation of his hand on her flesh was making the other pleasurable sensations sharper, more focused, even as she felt the soft flesh of her breasts and stomach rubbing against his trousers, his arousal nudging her stomach. “Don’t you dare, Charles Jameson,” she said. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me.”
He stilled. “I’m sorry, Collette,” he said, his voice cooler. “Perhaps you’d better get up, then.”
She swallowed hard, then wiggled her bottom provocatively. “I’ll get up when I want to, and right now I don’t want to,” she said softly.
Little termagant, Jameson thought, enjoying the view of her over his knee, her round bottom pinkening from his slap. She arched her back and lifted her bottom. When he smacked it again he heard her gasp, but she didn’t object. She just squirmed and moaned, kneeling over his lap, rubbing her breasts against his straining erection. Breathing hard, he smacked her bottom again. She whimpered, but it was the sound of a woman aching to be touched. He laid her down on the rug on her stomach, pulled his trousers down and covered her with his body, pulling her up to her knees.
“Jamie?” she cried, squirming to look at him over her shoulder.
“No words,” he grunted, spreading her legs with his knee and reaching down, slipping his fingers into her wetness, opening her and teasing the nub, which was swollen.
“Oh!” she gasped, arching her back.
“Yes, good girl, that’s what I want.” He gazed down at her, kneeling in front of him, her bottom lifted and legs spread, his finger inserted. He pushed his finger in and out, feeling her get wetter with every movement. She was beginning to move on his finger, pushing her bottom back and impaling herself on his thick forefinger. Harder and longer than he had ever been in his life and trembling with impatient lust, he pulled out his finger and guided himself to her, pushing the thick head of his shaft in. She instinctively spread her legs wider to receive him and he began to stroke, holding her bottom close to him, watching himself, solid and red, vein bulging down the length of his thickening rod as he disappeared into her, deeper with every stroke until he was buried to the hilt. She was tight and sweet, wet and hot. He stayed there completely embedded, tickling her pearly nub, knowing the sensation of his fingers would be heightened by his full penetration. He didn’t dare move again or he would be overcome and spill into her.
She arched her back, but moaned, “Jamie, not yet, I don’t want to yet,” as she squirmed to pull away from his finger tickling her pearly nub.
He pulled out and smacked her bottom and she gasped. “Yes!” she cried, pushing her bottom back up. “Oh, yes.”
He shoved back into her and teased her, tweaking the nub with his fingers, then rolling it. She cried out, arching her back and exposing herself fully as she shuddered. She was wet and slick, utterly submissive now to his forcefulness and he began to pump again, holding her firmly, kneeling behind and watching her pink bottom, her legs spread, his penis fully engorged as he thrust in. She wriggled and he smacked her bottom once more, knowing now that she liked it very much indeed, and that she twisted and turned purposely to incite him to spank her plump cheeks.
He muttered, over and over, “Good girl, yes, very good. Take it deep, like a good girl.” He shoved in hard, buried completely again, and felt the madness well up, his shaft pulsating as he spilled into her, gushing hot and wet. She moved her bottom as he climaxed and cried out her enjoyment, peaking as he did.
He pulled out and rapidly turned her over onto her back, spreading her legs and pushing into her before his rod wilted. Helpless and yielding, trembling from head to toe, she allowed him to thrust into her again and he watched as she writhed, moaning, her head thrown back, her knees up as he pushed into her, desperate to give her more before he was unable. Her whole body trembled and he watched her tossing her head back and forth as he lifted her up by her bottom and moved within her, his member beginning to go softer as she once more reached satisfaction.
Naked and helpless under him as he collapsed on top of her, she wept, tears streaming down her face.
“I didn’t hurt you! Please tell me I didn’t hurt you,” he said, pulling out of her.
“No, oh, no, Jamie, I just have never felt this way.”
She reached down and touched herself. He watched. She was swollen and pink, glistening in the firelight, the wetness spilling from her, but there was a look of wonder on her face. He got up and retrieved a wet cloth and bathed her gently, cupping her in his hand and tenderly washed her sweet cleft.
“Do you hurt?”
“I’m…tender,” she admitted, looking up at him. “And so sensitive. I can feel everything, every touch as you do that,” she said, touching his hand. “Everything.” She sighed. “But it feels…good. I can still feel you there, that you have been very deep inside of me, deeper than before.” She smiled hazily. “But you were very naughty, spanking me like I was a child.”
“No, my dear, that was not spanking as one does a child. You are a woman, and one word would have stopped me. You know that, I think.”
She chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Jamie,” she said softly. “You gave me the opportunity to stop you, I do know that.”
“I needed you to be biddable for once and ask no questions.” He still felt the lusty madness inside of him. Though fully drained, he still craved her, hungering deep inside of himself. His voice husky with suppressed desire, he said, “And I must say, I have never seen a sweeter sight than your bottom getting pink with my paddling. And you liked it, don’t tell me you didn’t. You got wetter with every swat and wriggled to provoke me into spanking harder.”
She quivered. “I did like it,” she said in wonder. “Even more when you…when you mounted me from behind.”
He swallowed hard, the vision of her receiving his swollen shaft flicking through his mind. Even as spent as he was, his hunger remained.
“Is that how people do that? I know that is how animals have…have sexual contact. Is it more often from behind like that for men and women too?”
He chuckled. “No. Some would say that is very wicked, to make love in that position.”
“Wicked? But then,” she muttered, drowsy, “people say all of what we did is wicked. I can’t think it is, for surely it would not feel so good if it was.”
Rising, he scooped her up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“You are going to need a rest. I have more yet to teach you, but you need some sleep first.”
Fifteen
She awoke to the room in darkness. Too tired earlier, she hadn’t noticed her surroundings, but realized his bedroom was large and sumptuous, the bed soft and the furnishing elegant.
Jamie was wrapped around her, holding her close. She stretched delicately and felt him stir. But she didn’t want to awaken him for a while, and so stayed motionless, sheltered by his warmth. It was odd to be naked and yet so comfortable. She had moved from prim Kentish spinster virgin to lady of pleasure in such a short time. Had it always been inside of her, this wantonness? Even now, as they lay quietly together, she wanted more. She wanted to touch him, explore him. Had she just been waiting for him to arouse her, awaken her?
Yet, it was not just any man who would do. Her lusty eagerness would only be satisfied by him. Jamie was special, not just for his skill in lovemaking, but for his gallantry and gentleness. She reached back and touched him, knowing he was asleep still. He had removed his trousers before climbing into bed with her, and she reached down to his naked shaft, closing her hand around it, curious. It was soft, short and stubby. But as she delicately touched the tip and played her fingers over its length, she felt it begin to stiffen. It swelled, lengthening and hardening, and with amazement she pulled the covers back and stroked it, watching it, moving down on the bed and exploring it in the white moonlight.
Putting her face close, she rubbed her cheek against it, the velvet, ridged texture thrilling, his musky scent intoxicating. He had washed them both again, she remembered, some time in the depths of the night. She buried her nose in the hair at the base of his penis and inhaled. Her stomach quivered and she rubbed her cheek to the tip and then surrendered to instinct, putting her lips to it and then her tongue, tasting it, running the tip of her tongue around the knobby end. She had no idea if what she was doing was naughty, she was just hungry for him in every way. She looked up to see his eyes open, his burning gaze watching her every move. She started back but he grabbed her arm.
“Don’t stop.” His voice was a throaty growl. “Go ahead. Do that again.”
Trembling, she obeyed, aware of his eyes following her tongue as it traveled the rapidly growing length. She closed her eyes and took in the tip, then as much of the shaft as she could. She could not take it all into her mouth, though she was ravenous for more. She explored with her fingers, touching the sac behind his penis, delicately teasing. His body was rigid and he was breathing hard, the sound raspy in the silence.
“Straddle me,” he commanded, gruffly.
She moved to obey his command, facing his chest, but he turned her around so that she straddled his chest facing his feet.
“That way! Now, do what you were doing,” he grunted, pushing her shoulders down so her head was close to his rod. “Do it… Kiss me.”
Resting on her elbows, she kissed his shaft, rubbing her lips across the tip and then taking him into her mouth, but she gasped and almost bit down when she felt a wetness in her cleft. She looked between them, toward his face, and saw him tonguing her. As she watched he pointed his tongue and pushed it in and she arched her back, feeling the now familiar sensation as he withdrew his tongue and lapped at her wetness, pointing his tongue and stroking. Eagerly she took his penis into her mouth and sucked as he teased her to the pinnacle. Pearly liquid oozed into her mouth as she rocked and thrust onto his tongue.
His mouth closed on her and he suckled, and she felt the rising tide of desire thrill through her. His hands gripped her hips and held her firm against his mouth, but then he abruptly stopped and lifted her off of him, turning her over and throwing her onto her back. He spread her legs with his knee in one swift movement and claimed her, impaling her again, driving deep.
“Will I never get enough of you?” he shouted. “You drive me mad, you little vixen!” He bucked on top of her, shoving in so hard he moved her whole body.
“Jamie!” she cried, frightened by his impassioned, ferocious carnality as she grasped the sheets beneath her.
He instantly stilled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He convulsed, doubling over against the rising lust.
She locked her legs behind his back and moved to accommodate him better. He began to stroke her more gently and she dug her heels into his back, feeling the muscles of his buttocks rigid with his self-control.
“I don’t think I can do this again,” she said, exhaustion overwhelming her. Her legs ached from straddling him and her body was spent from her enjoyment of his suckling attentions.
“Yes, you can,” he said tenderly. “You can. Just once more, my sweet. Just once more and then I shall let you rest again for a while. Relax your body. Let me do all the work.”
She lay still, legs spread wide, submitting to his will, and he pulled almost all the way out and let the thick knob tease her, the pearly wetness enticingly sweet to feel.
“I have never felt as I did when I awoke to find you taking me into your mouth,” he whispered, slipping his staff in again, but gently this time, slowly, thrusting in inch by inch until he was once more buried. It was easier this time. She had been stretched to fit him like a glove over a hand, suited to one owner only.
“Did you like it? Was it something you have…done before?” She sighed. Somehow he knew exactly what she needed each moment that she needed it. This slow penetration was achingly pleasing. She stretched under his weight, her muscles beginning to lose their ache in her growing pleasure.
“Yes, I have done that before.”
“Oh.” She was ridiculously disappointed. Everything they did for the first time, he had already experienced. There was not a thing she could do that would be new to him. “Have you ever… That is, when I straddled you and you licked me…”
“Yes, I’ve done that before. You were much sweeter and wetter than any I have ever tasted, though.”
His words excited her as she remembered the sight of his tongue pushing into her as he lapped at her hungrily. He was a rake and a rogue, and had experienced how many women? Dozens? A hundred? More? He shoved his hands under her bottom and lifted her, driving in again and withdrawing, letting his wetness ooze into her. In another minute she was writhing and moaning beneath him as he pushed her to the limits again, and then again, before taking his final ease, squirting into her with the sweet, hot stream now familiar, but still wonderful.
