Starlight (27 page)

She stood before him in corset and undergarments, already one of the most enthralling sights he’d ever seen. The blush on her cheeks united her freckles and spread down her neck, across her collarbones. As if hearing Alex’s silent assessment, she continued to remove layer after layer. He watched, hungry and eager, till she bared her body to the soft lamplight.

Her simple clothing had concealed her like an oyster hiding its pearl. Nude, she was . . . astonishing. Pale, freckled skin rounded over sleek curves. She had wide hips and perfectly-formed breasts. Her stomach tucked inward beneath the curve of her ribs. Graceful, petite legs and dainty toes, which she wiggled in the plush rug—her only outward sign of impatience.

Alex swallowed thickly. This was for him. All for him. Virgin territory, even if she was no longer a virgin in fact.

“Lie down.”

She complied, nibbling on the cuticle of her thumb
as he undressed. The avid way she absorbed every movement—intoxicating. He was the most powerful man on earth. How was he so excited, all over again? The proof was undeniable. Her gaze skated down to his thickening member and she grinned.

“I thought I put that to bed,” she said.

“And then you took off your clothes.”

“You can be very cheeky when you don’t stop to think about it.”

“Think about what?”

“Holding it all back.”

Alex was entirely nude now. That feeling of power returned in force. He controlled every mystery the universe had stubbornly refused to divulge. And he could pleasure Polly Gowan. That much he knew.

“I’m not holding anything back tonight.”

At that, she opened her arms. “Then come here. I’m cold.”

He stretched beside her on the bed. His mouth found hers without hesitation. The path he traveled down her body was slow and sinuous. He licked along her throat, dipping his tongue into the notch at its base. Polly threaded her fingers in his hair. Her gentle noises encouraged him, calmed him, and kept him so bloody eager.

The tips of her breasts were the palest pink, with tight, small nipples. His mouth watered and his heart hammered. Smoothing his palms over her flesh, he cupped her and brought one nipple to his lips. A simple kiss. Then a deeper one as he sucked and teased. Polly’s hands had slipped to his shoulders. It seemed her sharp, ragged nails would flay the skin
right off his back. That thought jerked his arousal up another notch.

He was tempted to stay there, feasting on her breasts, but he owed her the release she deserved. He simply wanted her to feel as good as he did.

With firm hands, he spread her knees until she was bared to him. Her legs quivered beneath his touch, as if she fought her reflexes in order to stay in that vulnerable position.

“Christ, Polly. You’re incredible.”

“I told you, I’m not.”

“And I told you, I won’t have any arguments on the matter.”

Her breasts lifted on quick breaths. “Shut me up, then.”

“Just what I had in mind.”

He positioned himself between her legs and kissed her inner thigh. That delicious quiver would not cease. Delicately, he touched the curls that hid her womanhood. She flinched just a little before relaxing on a giggle.

“These, Polly, are your labia.” He stroked those swollen lips, breathing in the scent of her arousal. “The outer labia, to be precise.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a man of science.”

“They taught you women’s parts in school?”

“No,” he said against her skin. “These constituted a portion of my extracurricular pursuits.”

“Hm?”

“I studied it because I wanted to.”

Parting those delicate folds, he licked upward
from her glistening center. She shuddered. One hand cupped the back of his head, grasping, keeping him there. Although he’d been sure of his course, Alex enjoyed a new wash of relief. She was so eager. So enthusiastic. Her responses were a drug he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer.

Deeper now, he tasted her salt and her honey. He ground his renewed erection against the mattress. He’d never known his body could be so resilient.

He slipped two fingers inside, gratified when she squirmed and called him a name he didn’t recognize. “I’ll assume that’s a Scottish obscenity.”

“You’re right.”

“You’ll make me lose my place. I’ll have to start all over.”

“Damn you.”

“Hush.” He continued to pulse in and out of her slick channel, harder, more deliberately. “Now, the clitoris is the subject of much debate.”

She arched her hips. “Alex, please.”

“Would you like to know why?”

“Why what?”

“Why it’s the subject of debate.”

“You’re a beast.”

“It’s because many men and even most women argue against its existence. Can you believe that? They think it’s a myth—a trick of history based on rumors spread by Romans or witches or some such.” He paused, right above where her tight bud tempted and shimmered with wetness. “You’ll have to tell me what you believe.”

He closed his mouth over that nub. Polly gasped,
and her rear lifted off the mattress. He used both hands to squeeze that full flesh, then held her cheeks apart as he indulged. He sucked, licked, circled, until his name became her breathless chant. She grabbed at his hair. Alex looked up her body to watch her face, drunk on how beautifully pleasure suited her features.

Not only was the female orgasm possible, it was glorious. She cried out just before her release flooded his tongue. Alex lapped at the proof of his success. Right then, he was a potent, incredibly smug man.

He levered himself over her. “Well? What side do you take in the debate?”

“It exists.”

“I’d have to agree. Learned men of science can be incredibly dense.”

Alex rightly counted himself among that lot, but he needed to get smart. Quickly. This was too good to give up.

“Polly? Do you know whose turn it is now?”

“Yours,” she said with a contented smile.

“No, my darling. This is for both of us.”

Still reeling from Alex’s amazing lesson, Polly was again taken aback when he positioned his cock against her opening. “That’s possible?”

He offered a smile that was almost shy. “We’re about to find out.”

Eager now, she grabbed his face and pulled him down for a spicy kiss—one flavored with her own taste. He didn’t hesitate, simply invaded her mouth with the hard sweep of his tongue. Their teeth clicked together when he pushed between her legs.
Inside her. So deeply that her eyes rolled shut on a groan. A harsh shudder chased up her back. He nudged her face to one side with his chin and suckled her throat, where the sharp bristles of his stubble scraped delicious pain across her skin. She grabbed the tense muscles of his upper back, as if clinging to the sturdiest ladder. Sleek and powerful, he thrust with measured strokes that edged ever closer to the madness they both craved.

Sweat slicked their upper bodies. Needing to touch him, to feel more of him, she slid her hands down along his ribs, then licked behind his ear. That must’ve tickled because he momentarily lost rhythm, and tensed over a strangled laugh. She did it again, on purpose.

“You are impossible,” he growled.

He snatched her hands, one at a time, and hauled them over her head. His fingers were so long that he encircled both wrists and pinned her there, supporting his weight on his other arm. Polly struggled at first, out of instinct—the reflex of being trapped. But the flare of his nostrils and ragged desire in his eyes restored her composure. He held her down, but Lord, if she didn’t feel like the one running the show.

She arched to show off her breasts.

His eyes widened, darkened.

Yes, that would do nicely.

His hips returned to their delectable pace. He put force behind each stroke. His features took on a determined cast, grim with shadows. Polly was almost disappointed after how near she’d come to helping him enjoy himself. They were back to
the beginning, with him fighting something she couldn’t understand.

She tried to enjoy the needy quest of body and body, but now the bleak turn of his lips wouldn’t let her go.

No.

She was going to have him on her terms. That was just plain fact.

Angling her mouth, she took hold of his earlobe with her teeth. He hissed as she applied sharp pressure. “Let go of my wrists, Alex.”

He slowed slightly. “Why?”

“I want to tickle you again.”

“Request denied.”

“You’re terribly overbearing. I liked you better with your mouth on my pussy.”

His hips stopped altogether. “What . . .” He swallowed. “What did you say?”

“Which part?” She batted her eyelashes, trying not to laugh. “About you being overbearing? Because you are, you know.”

“No. About . . . the other.”

“My pussy?

“Yes.”

“My quim?”

“Polly, don’t. It’s obscene.”

But oh, that’s not what his body said. Not at all. He was harder than ever. His arms shook and each breath seemed to cause him pain.

“You’re not the only one who knows words for those places. Only I didn’t learn mine from books.” She snagged his earlobe again and bit. His pelvis
flexed, so deep. “Let go of my hands so I can squeeze your taut arse.”

With a choked groan, he complied. In fact, he shoved her hands down behind his back. Polly had barely grabbed hold of that tight, muscled backside when he started again. Head bowed. Arms stiff. Working her slick sheath.

The bliss he’d given her with his mouth was a memory now. Her present pleasure was even more incredible, as fire built low in her belly, right where his shaft reached its deepest point. She wrapped her legs around his upper thighs.

“Are you close, Alex?”

“Yes.”

“I am, too. It’s right there—right there. Ah, God, fuck me.”

“Say it again.”

She smiled against his neck and dug her fingernails into his buttocks. “Fuck me, love. I want all you can give.”

She arched, twisting beneath a burst of pure sensation. Light blazed behind her eyes, more concentrated than the sun. Her skin flashed hot and cold. Every muscle tensed.

“Polly—” Strong hips jerked a final time. His gasped release sounded as beautiful as it felt. “Ah—goddamn it.”

His arms gave way and his wide shoulders slumped. Polly swiped damp strands of hair back from his forehead as he rolled off. He never let her go, simply tucked her there along his side. With one forearm flung over his eyes, he breathed as quickly as she.

Polly knew she should be exhausted and completely drained—and she was. But with no notion of how often she might be able to enjoy such a sight, she edged onto one elbow. Possessively, she snagged an arm around his tummy where his skin was still damp and hot. He was rather scruffy when naked. A beautiful, masculine trail of hair climbed up from his groin, then flared across his chest. She petted upward, smiling at each new texture, until she reached his smooth, defined shoulders and upper arms.

He made a contented noise, which only encouraged her to keep up the soothing caress. It was especially nice to be gentle after how forceful they’d been. She didn’t like thinking about why it was important that they be capable of both. Too dangerous.

But there it was. A truth she couldn’t deny.

“Can I ask you something?”

Alex only grunted, his eyes still hidden. His breathing, however, had returned to a near-normal pace.

“You seem like most of this is . . . well, new to you. But you were married.”

“I don’t hear a question yet, Polly.” His words were tight. A quiet warning she would not heed.

“That’s because you’re being stubborn on purpose. Shall I say it? We know it’ll embarrass you more than it will me.”

“You want to know why a man who was married for six years acts, on occasion, like a virgin lad.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Alex removed his forearm and shifted to face her. The lamp still blazed. Golden warmth bathed his
carved features. Oh, how she adored his eyes. So clear and expressive. He could lose the ability to speak and still tell her exactly what was on his mind. At that moment, he was again thinking that their tryst was a mistake. But some greater need pulsed out from his bones. She felt it jittering beneath her hands on his stomach—the need to confide. Her job was to listen. She wouldn’t like any answer he provided, because part of her already wanted him happy.

And this wouldn’t be a happy story.

“My wife, Mamie, was abused by her father. He was and remains a disgusting human being. The worst sort of entitled bastard. That entitlement meant hurting his daughters. At first it was both, but Mamie did what she could to protect her younger sister.” He shivered and punched his eyes shut. “For ten years, maybe longer, she bore the brunt of his . . . perversions.”

“Alex, that’s sick.”

He nodded stiffly. “My father refused to let me marry before I graduated. His reasons were sound, that I would need a reliable occupation to keep her safe. Plus, her family is powerful. I needed his support. So we waited. Each summer when we met again on the beaches there at Cape Cod, she looked even more sunken.” Shoving his free hand through his hair, he choked back a thick swallow. “We married the day after I graduated from Harvard. I took a lesser teaching position in Philadelphia to keep her far from her family in Boston.”