SeductiveIntent (9 page)

“Yes,” she whimpered, her eyes closed, her head moving from
side to side, her hips even moving a little, damned near pulling him in, though
he resisted still.

“All of me?” he clarified. Jesus, he was a fucking saint,
since he waited for her answer even.

“Yes,” she finally whispered, opening her eyes, her hands on
her shoulders. “All of you.”

He thrust his cock in swiftly, all the way in her tight,
luscious pussy.

And registered her gasp.

Oh, wait, that…that hurt for a minute. She closed her eyes.
But just for a minute, as she accustomed herself to that initial overwhelming
sensation of having him all the way inside her. Now that he was, it felt, so,
so wonderful. Full as she was, she felt herself take him even more fully,
welcoming him with her body, though she wasn’t doing it consciously. Not
precisely. He seemed to feel it anyway.

He groaned. “Are you okay?” he asked again, sounding as if
he was the one in pain.

How many times was he going to ask her that? What prompted
it now? She was fine. “Yes,” she said, wanting something, wanting him to move.

And at her answer, he did, slowly at first, just a slight
swirl of that incredible hard instrument of his, inside her. He kissed her
temple, and then took her mouth again, plunging his tongue in as he pulled his
cock out a little and then thrust back in.

Whoa. That was…whoa. He did it again and she lost her train
of thought. No, that wasn’t it. She lost all thought. Her body began to move
with him, against him, on its own, knowing just what would make her, them, feel
just right. Before she knew it, she was clinging to him, straining against him,
listening to the grunts and gasps one or the other or both of them were
emitting with awe as she registered this pinnacle of sensation.

She came. Hard. Deep. In a way she never had, not even when
he was fingering her before on his bed in Connecticut. She realized this was
it. This was the big O. Not to be faked or replaced or substituted. She
shuddered back on the pillow. No wonder he got all the women he needed. He
could do…this…for them.

Panting, she looked up at him in the moonlight. He was still
balanced on his palms above her, still hard within her, not moving now though.

He hadn’t come?

What was up with that? Had she done something wrong?

“Are you okay?” she asked, with not even the slightest ironic
echoing of his earlier queries to her. “Did I…is there something I’m supposed
to do?”

He shook his head, smiling slightly, breathing as if he was
trying to slow it down. “I’m trying to summon up some control.”

“Why? Don’t you…er…shouldn’t you…”

“Come?” he supplied. Then he moved, very slowly, very
deliberately. She gasped. “Not until you do again.”

She groaned. Oh, she couldn’t do that again. It was too
soon. She was too raw. But he was winding her up again with his slow movement
and his light kisses and she arched into him. This time, he was the one who
groaned, as well as thrust so hard into her it robbed her of breath from a
minute. Then he was off, pounding in such a way it was clear he’d lost all
control and she was as shattered by it as she had been by his measured finesse.
She came again, so hard and so deep, that she barely realized he came with her
this time, shuddering over her, holding her close, his face buried in her
shoulder.

When they could both breathe normally again, he rolled off
her, coming up on his side, moving a strand of hair from her face. She smiled
up at him.

“Sophia.” He said her name so softly. Then he brushed his
lips lightly against hers and whispered, “I must be going crazy. But when I
first put my fingers up you, I thought I felt like…and then you were so
tight…was this your…” Finally he pulled back and said, “Were you a virgin?”

She should have been ready for the question. In every
romance novel she’d ever read, the hero could tell the moment he took the
heroine’s virginity. But those were romances, historical ones at that usually.
In this day and age, with tampons and gynecologists, she’d more or less
supposed a man would probably not be able to tell. But the tampon part was
probably a myth—she used pads anyway—and she’d never been to a gynecologist—her
lifestyle being what it was, on the run half the time—so she didn’t know why
she’d been relying on that.

She didn’t check below to see if there was blood on the
coverlet, but whether there was or not, he’d obviously felt something when they
had sex.

How to explain that away? She couldn’t exactly tell him the
truth.
I’ve had an unusual kind of life that involves a lot of foreplay but
doesn’t require intercourse and I’ve never been inclined to it without some
kind of a payoff.
That wasn’t precisely the truth anyway. She didn’t know
what was at this point or why she’d put a sudden end to her virginity tonight
with this man. Or maybe she did know that part. She was wildly, honestly
attracted to this Brendan Beckett, and had been for some time. She just plain
had wanted to sleep with him, as simple as that would be for most girls and as
complicated as it was for her.

“No,” she finally answered him, lying of course. “I just, I
haven’t…I told you I wasn’t very experienced.”

He continued to play with her hair and then pulled her to
him so that she found herself cuddled up against him, her head on his chest.

“You’ve had sex before? Because it felt like, I mean it’s
been a long time, but it kind of felt like, you, ah, hadn’t.”

“No, I hadn’t,” she blurted out. “Not all the way.”

He chuckled and she could feel it against his chest. “That’s
kind of what a virgin is, Sophia.”

“All right. Fine. I was a virgin.”

He kissed her ear. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. As a
matter of fact, it’s an incredible turn on. Men are very territorial. It’s hot
to think no one has ever done this to you.”

“You’ve never slept with a virgin?”

“Not for a very long time, since I don’t sleep with
fifteen-year-olds, at least not since I was around that age myself. It’s, ah, a
little unusual to find a virgin these days who’s what, twenty-two,
twenty-three? How old are you?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Unless that’s
a big secret too.” He pulled away to remove the condom, tying the end and
tossing it into a nearby wastebasket.

“I’m around that age, I guess.”

“You don’t know?” He said it as if that was a joke. As if it
was impossible that somebody could not know their own age.

God, she was a freak.

“No, of course I know.”

He pulled her into his arms again. “I haven’t just slept
with an ex-nun, have I?”

She laughed. “No. Just a girl with an overbearing father.”
It was out of her mouth before she knew it.

“Wow. He must have been something to keep the boys away from
you. He’s not going to come gunning for me, is he?”

“He’s dead.” Again, talk about winging it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sophia.”

“Don’t be. He was an ass. I’m glad to be free of him.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I was lucky.
My parents were great.”

“Really? What was so great about them?” She was being flippant,
but he didn’t seem to notice or mind if he did.

“I don’t know. They loved each other. A lot. But it wasn’t
to the exclusion of us, the kids. There was always this sense that here were
two people who just loved you so much, it was unquestioned. It was a given. I’m
not explaining it very well, I guess.”

“Well, give an example. Loved you how? Gave you a Corvette
on your sixteenth birthday? What?”

He laughed. “No. Although they were complete push-overs when
it came to material things. I had a lot of friends, rich friends, whose parents
used their wealth to try to control them. Get perfect SAT scores and then you
can have a Corvette. That kind of thing. With my parents, there was none of
that. If I wanted a Corvette, they would’ve given me a Corvette. They just felt
at some deep level that their money was my money. It should have made us more
spoiled, but oddly I think it had the opposite effect. It was like, no I don’t
want a Corvette. Thanks. I’m good. It was probably some kind of elaborate
reverse psychology, but it worked.”

“Come on. I bet you took the Corvette.”

“Actually, it was a Porsche, but okay. I did. What the hell,
I was sixteen. I was desperate to look cool.”

“And were these perfect parents of yours pissed when you
totaled it?”

“I didn’t say they were perfect. Far from it. But they
were,” he hesitated, “constitutionally incapable of being disappointed in their
kids. That was really what was so incredible.”

Her limbs were entwining with his, her head on his chest,
his hands running through her hair. Parental love might be a mystery to her,
but sex she was finally getting. She practically purred with contentment at
this physical closeness and to keep this moment going, she urged him on with
questions, although she couldn’t care less about parental love right now. “I
don’t get it,” she murmured.

“Well, for instance, I was the only son. My father ran the
family company and his father before him did and so on. So there were a lot of
expectations for me early on. A lot of assumptions.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes closed.

“But when it became abundantly clear I was the goof-off and
my big sister was the CEO-in-training, my parents switched gears and were just
fine with that. As a matter of fact, by the time they were done they usually
had themselves convinced that was what was for the best, what they’d wanted,
all along. They loved my ‘free spirit’ and it wasn’t even like it was a
consolation prize. They were proud of Virginia, but it wasn’t to the exclusion
of me.”

He was talking softly and she didn’t know what he was envisioning
as he spoke. The situation was completely foreign to her. As if he had said
he’d grown up on Mars with space creatures. “Hmm, they sound too good to be
true,” she couldn’t help herself from saying.

“They weren’t. But they were pretty damn good. I love my
sisters, but it’s not the same. I miss my parents. We all do. Probably always
will.”

His faraway voice, his vision of these space alien loving
parents, was ruining her moment. And suddenly, what she didn’t have, could
never have, was making her angry. “Well, don’t worry,” she snapped. “I’m sure
you’ll see them in heaven.”

Shoot. Sarcasm was practically dripping off that comment.
She snuggled closer, hoping Brendan in his la-la land of perfect families,
hadn’t noticed.

But he heard it that time. Still for a moment, he then
kissed the top of her head lightly. “I’m sorry.”

She sat up abruptly, pushing him away. “Stop saying that,”
she snapped.

Man, she was so far off the reservation from being dream
girl bait for this guy, it wasn’t funny.

“Okay. I’m not sorry you apparently had shitty parents. Is
that better?”

Chapter Five

She looked like some little wild thing, glaring at him, with
her hair down to her waist, fluffy from their lovemaking, and her chest
heaving. Or at least a Playboy Playmate version of a little wild thing. How was
a guy ever going to get annoyed with a girl who looked like this, especially
when she was naked?

And how the hell had he gotten off on that tangent about his
parents? He rarely talked about them with people outside the family, and never,
to his memory, with a girl. But holding her like that, here in the Cayman
house, and finding she’d never had sex before, it just kind of flowed together
in some crazy way.

As soon as he realized that he had taken her virginity, all
thoughts of her having any involvement in the burglary went right out of his
head. This girl was more innocent than he’d thought, not more guilty.

And now, as she glared up at him, naked, he should be
focusing on the fact that she was so kooky she wouldn’t tell him her last name,
took ridiculous chances like swimming out to God knows where and had had such a
bizarre childhood that she managed to remain a virgin until her twenties even
though she looked like a fucking sex goddess. But he wasn’t. His brain wasn’t functioning
enough to take all that in, let alone respond appropriately to it. No nice guy
comforting about her childhood, whatever. Staring at her naked, he had room in
his tortured brain for only one thing with this girl right now. Fucking.

Disgusted with himself, he got out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Come on. Let’s take a swim. If I can trust you not to swim
out to Cuba again, that is. You’ve worn me out. I can’t chase you this time.”

She got out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her, which he
actually thought was kind of sweet. “Let me just go get my suit.”

He tugged the edge of the sheet away from her and let it
drop. “Not necessary. There really is nobody around now. Let’s go
skinny-dipping.” At her doubtful look, he crooned, “It’s a wonderful night for
a moon-dance…”

“You have a nice voice. Have you ever thought of doing
anything with it?”

“Like what? Form a rock band? Talk about clichéd rich guy.”

He took her hand, leading her naked downstairs. “Or maybe
join a choir?” he teased. “But I’m afraid my masculinity couldn’t take that
assault.”

She shook her head reprovingly as he opened the door wall
and walked her out to the beach. He loved to swim naked and this late in the
night no one really was bound to wander down the beach. It was kind of cute how
she was crossing the arm he wasn’t holding across her breasts to shield them.
She’d seemed confident with her body when they were in his room at Bransport,
her carriage perfect, but now she seemed shier. It was hard to believe she
really had been a virgin. He was still absorbing it.

The ocean was still pretty warm as they walked into the
waves, hand in hand. When it was waist high, he fell into it, turning onto his
back and bringing her into the circle of his arms. They floated for a while,
her back to his front, until he began to kiss her neck and then turned her
around and devoted himself to her lips. Standing in the water, the waves
lapping at them, he kept both his arms around her waist at first, but the
temptation was too great. Slowly, as the kiss got deeper, he brought one hand
up to her breast, feeling the supple heft of it with his palm. She put her arms
around his neck, arching into him, pulling him closer, and he steered her back
to the shore. Engrossed in their kissing, the waves made them stumble and
reluctantly he pulled away.

“If you haven’t seen The Godfather, I take it you haven’t
seen From Here to Eternity either.”

“Of course I have. Now that’s a classic. That’s romantic.”

“Hey, The Godfather’s not romantic?” He laughed. “Well,
actually, you got me there. But what I was going to say is despite what Deborah
Kerr and Burt Lancaster made it look like, making love on the beach is a little
more gritty than that in real life. I know, I’ve tried it.”

“You’ve probably tried everything,” she said softly, but it
didn’t sound like much of a compliment.

“I know. I’m a slut.” He kissed her wet shoulder. “You’ll
have to reform me.”

“I wouldn’t even try.”

“In that case, let’s go inside and I can show you a little
more of what I’ve learned.”

They walked into the house together, arm in arm, wet still
from the ocean. He reached into a side closet by the door and took out a huge
fluffy towel, wrapping her in it as they both wiped their feet on the mat.

“Is that good enough?” she asked. “I don’t want to trail
sand in the house.”

“Beach house, Sophia. That’s what it’s all about. That’s why
there are no carpets, just tile and hard wood. Besides, you could trail in a
sand box full and I’d still want to take you upstairs.”

She laughed.

“But you’re right. Maybe we should stay down here a while.”
He picked her up in his arms and brought her to the low granite counter
separating the kitchen from the main great room. As he deposited her on the
counter, he spread the towel out around her and then stood between her open legs
to kiss her some more. This time, his lips wandered down, kissing the satiny
skin of her breasts for a while and then going farther down.

She wasn’t waxed clean like a lot of the girls he slept with
and he liked the natural, clipped look of her dark bush. Her hands were in his
hair as he crouched down in front of her. “You said you’ve had guys kiss you.
Ever here?”

Her eyes were closed, maybe because the lights were on, so
he demonstrated the point, setting his mouth lightly to her clit. She jumped
and glancing up, he saw she had opened her eyes, startled. He grinned. “I’m
going to take that for a no.” Setting his hands on the inside of her thighs, he
opened them farther and then set to his task. She didn’t object as he kissed
her clit lightly. The taste of her, combined with the salt of the ocean, was a
unique flavor and he relished it, bringing one hand to trail along her seam as
she got wetter and wetter with his kisses. He thrust a finger inside to work
her, concentrating still on her clit, such a pretty rosy pink as he licked and
kissed. The light in here, soft, mellow, but bright enough for him to see her
spread out in all her glory, was perfect. Her hands gripped tufts of his hair,
tugging wildly as he began to suck her clit. Just as he felt her about to come,
he pulled back teasingly. “Hey, I’d rather not be bald in the morning.”

Panting, she opened her eyes, glassy with her desire.
“What?”

He kissed the inside of one thigh, still finger-fucking her
lightly.

“Did you like that, Sophia, or were you trying to pull my
hair out by the roots just for fun?”

Her hands immediately relinquished the strands of his hair.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

Regretting his teasing, he leaned up to kiss one heaving
breast before his lips travelled down her taut stomach again toward the hood
peeping out of her curls. “I’m just kidding, honey. I love the feel of you
touching me, anywhere.” She gripped his shoulders as he dipped his head in
earnest between her legs, working her with his lips, adding one more finger to
her pussy and pulling her hips closer till she was in danger of sliding off the
counter.

Her fingers clenched at his shoulders as she orgasmed
against his mouth, her head dropping forward, wet curls covering them both.

So very nice.

“My turn,” he whispered.

Brendan stood, kissing his way up along her body as he did
so, and she felt his hard penis pulsing against her inner thigh by the time he
got to her mouth. When he kissed her, she knew the faint taste on his lips was
her and she found it unbearably erotic. Her hand wandered around to his tight
bottom and she tried to urge him forward, inside her, where she wanted him, but
he pulled away from the kiss, resisting it.

“No, not yet, honey. I need a condom.”

“Oh.” Bizarre as it was, she was disappointed that he could
keep his head when he hadn’t even come yet while she was mindless with desire
for him when she just had. Of course this was nothing new for him, whereas for
her it was a brave new world.

She suddenly wanted to make him lose his head, dangerously
so.

Opening her legs wider, she scooted closer until the head of
his penis, hot and throbbing, was right at her wet entrance. His hands had come
around to her hips and he halted her progress. “Come on. No further.”

“Which is it?” she taunted. “Come on? Or no further?”

“No farther,” he whispered.

“Why not? You know I’ve never been with anyone else. What
are you afraid of?” She punctuated her words with light, feathery kisses to his
neck, his shoulder and she took one of his hands from her hip and brought it to
her breast, squeezing with her hand over his. He let her, groaning, but still
made no further move to slip his penis inside her.

“It’s what you should be afraid of.” His voice sounded
strained and he had his eyes closed as he fondled her breast.

“If you’ve always used a condom, then you must be clean,”
she argued, knowing she shouldn’t. Her hand fell away from his hand on her
breast and took up residence on his very tight, very muscular bottom. It was
wild, wicked to caress him there, and she did, exultant with his harsh breaths
at her attentions, his slight jerks forward.

“That’s a dangerous way to think, Sophia. How the hell would
you know if a guy was telling you the truth about that?”

“Aren’t you?”

He squeezed her breast a little rougher and it felt so good.
“A guy, any guy, would lie about that in a second to fuck you barebacked. It’s
what they lie about.”

With the hand that wasn’t fondling his ass, she grasped the
back of his head and brought him into a deep kiss, thrusting her tongue without
restraint far into his mouth, His hand convulsed on her breast and his penis
below jumped so he was almost inside, whether he meant to be or not.

She pulled back from the kiss to murmur against his lips,
“But you’re not lying, are you, Brendan?”

He opened his eyes. “The point, honey, is you wouldn’t know.
And I’m not just talking about STDs. I know this is a stupid question to ask a
girl who was a virgin until an hour or so ago, but you’re not on the pill, are
you?”

“Yes,” she said. “I am.”

He laughed. “Now who’s lying?”

“You could pull out before you come. If you go inside me
without a condom, I mean.”

“Tie me to the captain’s wheel,” he muttered.

“I’m not a siren,” she murmured and he arched his eyebrow,
one corner of his mouth lifting in apparent amusement that she had caught the
Homeric reference. “I’m just a girl who for once you can be sure you don’t have
to use a condom with. Pull out if it makes you feel better.”

“This isn’t something you should be offering, Sophia.”

“I know, but I am.”

She wrapped her legs around the back of his strong thighs,
relinquishing her caress of his bottom, and leaned slightly back on the
counter. Scooting her own bottom even farther forward and tipping up toward him
a little more, she watched where they were joined just the slightest little
bit, the head of his cock nudging her opening. Guided by instinct, she rotated
her hips slightly, and he sucked in a breath and surged into her. All the way
into her. She didn’t know who was more surprised, her or him.

“Christ,” he gasped, holding himself there as if savoring
the heat of her.

Hands on her hips, he anchored her to the counter as she lay
back on her elbows. They were both panting, watching where they were joined, as
he pulled out slowly just to shove in her again so forcefully that she arched
into the incredible sensation. Then he was off, repeating the action, again and
again, with more and more force and less and less control, wildly. The
sensation of his hot, hard penis pounding away at her was incredible, as each
thrust pushed her farther back, his hands pulling her forward, not letting her
away as he fucked her.

She wasn’t experienced enough to detect whether the
sensation of him unsheathed inside her felt much different to her than it had
with a condom. But what she could detect was that it felt much different to
him. He was excited by it, wildly, uncontrolled to such an extent that she was
afraid at the last second, just as she was coming, that he wouldn’t pull out.
But suddenly he did, ejaculating right against her belly as he held her to him,
spurting his semen against her, warm and sticky.

Panting, she sat up, putting her arms around him and he
shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not foolproof.”

Not exactly what she wanted to hear from her lover at this
particular moment. Waxing lyrical about being inside her, bare skin to bare
skin, was more along the lines of what she’d been hoping to hear him say. But
what had she expected? He was probably worried that she would trick him into
something by getting pregnant. As well he should be, given who she was, even if
he didn’t know it.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said quietly. “Nothing will come
of it. I promise.”

He jerked his head up. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing, I was just trying to reassure you. Nothing.”

“If anything does, promise me you’ll come to me.”

“Sure, but—”

“It would be my responsibility too. Promise me.” His tone
was hard and she nodded.

“I promise.”

“Good.” He reached for a dish cloth at the end of the
counter and gently wiped the semen from her stomach.

Before it was all gone, she put her index finger to the
sticky substance and then brought it to her mouth, licking. “I want to see how
it tastes,” she murmured as he watched, transfixed. He hurriedly wiped the rest
off, flinging the towel to the floor and picking her up.

She looped her arms around his neck as he took the stairs
two at a time, acting as if her weight was nothing to him. When he lowered her
to the bed this time, he flipped her over. “Come up on your knees,” he urged,
his arms around her waist, and she obeyed, in thrall to this man and the
pleasure he was giving her. She didn’t know what was normal and what wasn’t
normal, but she was surprised he was ready for her again, so soon. Hard against
her backside, he positioned her, tugging her back until she was at the edge of
the bed, putting one hand to her shoulders to nudge her down even as he
encouraged her to keep her bottom in the air, wedging her legs open with one
knee.