Starlight (26 page)

“And you’ll just have to believe me that I’ve always been . . . curious.”

She undid his trouser buttons. One after another. That she was going through with this was destroying his mind.

Slim, cool fingers encircled him. Alex hissed a sharp curse. This was wrong in so many ways. He clamped his hands around the armrests. He wanted and wanted until she must have been able to feel his lust, as it seeped through his pores and ignited in the sharp electric air.

“You’re thinking,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“Stop. Or I’ll have to.”

Christ, that lovely neck. She was sturdy and strong in so many ways, but her neck was a picture of elegant perfection. Regal. Proud. And utterly depraved as she bent low to his groin. He stiffened at the first brush of breath against his heated skin. His toes curled in
his shoes. His mouth had dried to the point where he couldn’t speak, even if he still felt compelled to.

But he didn’t. Not anymore. Not so close to bliss. He only craved Polly right there, on her knees, as her lips parted.

Polly took her own advice. She stopped thinking. Every other concern could wait, because she belonged exactly where she knelt.

They deserved this. Both of them. Something raw and stupid and memorable—a moment in time that wouldn’t be lost among so many others, before the dawn came and the worst happened. The premonition she’d felt that this would be their last night together was now fact.

Oh, but she had no idea what she was doing. All she followed was a desire to unwind him. Unhinge him. Beneath his many layers, he harbored a darkness she had become obsessed with knowing. She’d sampled so many delicious tastes and only wanted more.

He throbbed where she gripped him fully. Beneath the lingering haze of smoke they both still wore, she caught the scent of a more erotic perfume: his skin, made potent in arousal. She rubbed her cheek along his shaft and gloried in how his thighs tensed.

Just you wait.

With a deep breath for courage, she touched her tongue to his swollen head. The skin was incredibly smooth and slightly salty. Needing more, she licked with quick, wet sweeps. If he held himself any more rigidly, constricted inside that big, tense body, he was going to explode. That made her grin.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re supposed to be enjoying this,” she whispered against his taut stomach.

“I am.”

“Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you’d scamper like a rabbit if I even blinked.”

He groaned and laid his head back. “Good God, you’re teasing me at a time like this.”

“If not now, then when?”

Smiling more broadly now, she resumed her exploration of his manhood. The shaft was lined with veins that pulsed a steady reminder of his excitement. Without much light, she used her sensitive tongue to trace every furrow and ridge. Slowly she learned him, coming to know exactly where he was most sensitive.

Soon tracing and tasting weren’t enough. She’d thought this would be all for him, until restless energy settled between her legs. It was a low throb, an ache that needed to be satisfied. She had experienced the same greedy pulse when he’d teased her with his elegant fingers—fingers free of a workingman’s calluses.

She had just permitted him entrance past the barrier of her lips when his pelvis thrust. Just a bit. It was enough to give her hope. He wasn’t going to fight this forever. An unexpected thrill of competition powered her as surely as desire. After a few experimental tries she found the rhythm that imitated what he’d done to her in their private alley sanctuary. When she needed a breath, she slid her lips off the head and goaded him with languorous strokes of her tongue.

His breathing sounded almost pained. Labored. Edgy. Always through his nose, still holding it in.

She flashed him a playful look. “I’m convinced your cock is the only part of you that isn’t lying.”

“Christ, Polly, what do you want from me?”

“Your participation. There’s no way I’ll let you think I did this on my own. Come morning you’ll think me some wicked seducer sent to drive you mad.”

A ghost of a smile peeked out. “Oh, but you are.”

“I do rather like it when you put it that way. But I mean it. Show me exactly how much you’re enjoying this.”

In truth, she’d expected more resistance. But, as his long body relaxed on an exhale, the stiff muscles of his thighs let go of their strain. He slowly released the armrests, then flexed his fingers as if working them back to life.

Fascinated, she watched as he moved to touch her face. First with his fingertips, then with his knuckles, he outlined her cheeks, chin, nose. She turned to nestle her lips against his palm. After smoothing his thumbs over her temples, he dipped around to cup the back of her head. He threaded his fingers through her curls, down to her scalp.

Polly still gripped his member. His expression was even softer now, lulling her with intent eyes filled with wonder. Lulling, because she was taken by surprise when his hands tightened in her hair. She felt every intention and every wish in that strong hold.

“You’re beautiful, Polly.”

“I’m not.”

“Woman, you’d argue with a tree stump. Believe me—on this score, I win.” He reinforced his words with a slight tug on his fistful of hair, proving the full extent of his grip. “But I hate that you stopped. Don’t do it again.”

She smirked. “Of course.”

She resumed, only this time, she had Alex to guide her. The pressure of his hands cupping her skull, guiding her, was unbearably intimate. She knew each lick and nip he enjoyed, and every time she pleasured him just so. They dissolved into a silent call and response. His sensations became hers to command, just as his wishes were hers to grant. The arousal of that trust was as unexpected as it was intoxicating.

She accidentally dragged her front two teeth over his firm head. Rather than pull away, he groaned. “Again,” he whispered.

So, very carefully, she obeyed. Just tiny, nipping scrapes. His hands flexed. Lean masculine hips pulsed. Shortened movements. She encouraged him to give in with every stroke of her palm along his shaft.

“Polly,” he choked out. “All the way now.”

Her insides melted on a hot rush. Wetness slicked her feminine core. He hadn’t found his release yet, but she had won.

She relaxed her jaw and took him deep.

A low groan rumbled down through his torso. He shifted slightly, changing the angle, encouraging her to take even more. She swirled her tongue, bobbed an even pace—until he was too deep for even that.

He stilled her head and his hips took over.

Polly closed her eyes, braced her hands around the backs of his knees. And she opened to him.

His rhythm wasn’t fast or violent so much as intent. He took his time with every thrust, pushing as far as she could take. She sucked him, followed by long, slow withdrawals. That sensual lethargy helped her relax. Only his merciless grip on her hair and the gasping sound of his breath gave him away. He wanted more. And still, he wasn’t taking it.

So Polly fought back.

She tossed her head back, completely off him, and clamped her lips shut. A quick glance at his expression revealed bewildered surprise, like a petulant boy who hadn’t gotten his way.

“Do it, Alex. All the way, or we stop now.”

He jerked. Closed his eyes. And brought her face back down.

Polly braced herself, because there was no softness left in him now. His hips did the work. He set a pace that matched the beat of her blood. Fast. Hard. Unyielding. She managed to keep still despite the ache her own body clamored to have satisfied. She wanted his hands on her. In her. Everywhere. Instead she took out that frustration on his thighs, scoring his skin with her nails.

He hissed, drove deeper, and groaned her name as the proof of his release hit the back of her tongue. She swallowed. That simple act of necessity pulled another moan from his chest, followed by a long, quiet curse.

Her jaw ached, but the throb between her legs
was far stronger. She slipped off his softening shaft with one last lick. His hands loosened their relentless hold. She was unmoored. The room spun. She rested her forehead on his thigh as he stroked the back of her neck. Thought was gone. Only need remained.

Alex grasped beneath her arms and dragged her up. She winced a little as blood rushed back to her knees and toes. He draped her over his lap, holding her close. The way he buried his face in her hair, right at the curve of her neck, brought unexpected tears to her eyes. He was shaking. She felt it, despite her own unsteadiness.

“I have no words,” he whispered.

Polly had expected to find contentment. She’d won, after all. She’d proven what sort of man he could be if he finally gave himself permission to let go. But she was far from content. A pounding rhythm still beat in her belly.

“I have words, Alex. Would you like to hear them?”

He grunted an affirmative.

“It’s my turn.”

A
lex
never failed to feel a little dizzy and awed when looking up at the stars. The impossible vastness of the universe humbled him, but it also left him eager for more. More to learn, more to investigate.

Holding Polly, he relished that same surge of possibilities.

And, like studying the sky, there were facts he knew without context. He knew the contours of the moon’s surface, but he would never travel there. He knew the anatomy of a woman’s body and the mechanics of the sex act, but he’d never found success in applying what he learned from medical texts.

Mamie had been too . . .
damaged
.

But Polly. She wasn’t simply amazing. She was a gift—someone to put right those years of heartbreaking failure.

He smoothed damp, curly hair away from her neck and kissed her there. Softly. In thanks.

For now.

He kept kissing, then added his tongue and teeth as he traveled down the length of her throat. Feeling her supple feminine limbs, tense yet trembling, he recognized the rock-hard anticipation he’d only just suffered. It was her burden now. Her joy.

“I want to take you to my bedroom.”

She released a frayed exhale and pulled away a little. “I can’t stay here. You know there’s too much between us now.”

“And not nearly enough. Put it off until morning, Polly. Let me give you this.”

“I don’t need too much convincing,” she said, tracing his lips. “I just wanted to see if you meant it.” Her sneaky grin had returned. She was restless and eager but, such a wonder, she still managed to find the humor in everything. “So what do you have in mind?”

“You don’t want surprises?”

“Well, a
few
surprises. Anticipation is half the fun.” She pinched his ear. “For someone who doesn’t fight it so much.”

Alex relaxed into the chair, head back against the leather. His smile felt . . .
right
. Exhausted, yes, but excited by the unknown. After what he’d just done, what she’d just given him, he wanted to play dirty, too. “Do you know what the labia are?”

“No.”

“The clitoris?”

“Are they more comets? Because, to be honest, that wasn’t what I expected right now.”

He laughed loudly. Maybe it was the final release
of all the sensation he’d just experienced. Maybe it was just Polly. That blend of natural cleverness and artless innocence was almost more than he could handle.

“I’ll cuff you, you brute,” she said with a kitten’s snarl.

Without replying, he hefted her in his arms and stood from the chair. Only a little wobble of his knees—then he was stable again. She giggled, despite the confused expression she still wore. Looping her forearms around his neck and snuggling close, she rested her cheek against his chest. Alex’s heart seized over that small measure of trust.

After setting Polly on the floor beside his bed, he lit the lamp that softly illuminated his bedchamber. He had yet to care about this leased house. His disinterest was reflected in spare furnishings and a complete lack of decoration. The truth cut far too close—it looked like a monk’s quarters.

Able to see Polly’s face clearly now, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her mouth. Those beautiful lips were slightly swollen. A surprising tightness in his veins said his body was not yet finished. That tightness would become arousal if he let it.

He would.

“Alex? It’s all very pretty, the gentleness and the sweetness.” She caught his chin, then kissed him with fierce intensity. “But it’s rather unnecessary right now.”

He licked his bottom lip. “You enjoyed that.”

“Sucking you?”

“Jesus, woman. Yes, that.”

“I did.”

“And it made you ready for me?”

“Oh, yes. Now do shut up.”

With steady, precise movements, he unfastened the buttons of her gown and bared her creamy shoulders. She helped him past some of the trickier barriers until she stepped out from a puddle of brown fabric. He wanted her in silks and satins, in an aurora of color that proclaimed she would never need to work again. But even more, he wanted her naked.