Suzi Love (32 page)

A sound of total release and joy emitted from her throat in a long keening cry before she collapsed back in a spent heap on the rug. The heavy droop of her lids fascinated him. The look of satiation on her face increased his desire threefold.

“Don’t imagine that’s all you’ll have tonight, sweetheart.” He nuzzled her cheeks, kissing her chin, her brows, the soft lids of her eyes, until he focused on the lobe of her ear, kissing, then tonguing it. “There’s more.” He dragged the sensitive lobe between the rough edges of his teeth, nibbled and worried it until she squirmed beneath him. “Much, much more.”

Becca stared up at him with awe. Aware of nothing but the startling shivers of need spearing through her, gathering again in a sphere of heat deep in her abdomen. She moved restlessly beneath her lover, unable to keep still beneath his experienced touch.

Her gaze wandered down the length of him as he held himself suspended above her. Everything about Cayle excited her. The smoothness of his tanned skin and the firm muscle beneath, the hard lines of his rib cage, the tapering of his body from wide shoulders to a narrow waist. She wanted to feel every part of him pressed against her, male to female.

He lowered to her, pushed one of his legs between hers and spread her apart. Taking his weight on his forearms, he pressed downwards against her torso. His erection pulsed to match the throbbing of her own rapid beat in her hidden tender place. He was hard and heavy and pulsing. And hers. Totally hers.

As he kissed his way down her neck, one large hand curved around her aching breast to pluck at the distended nipple. The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain so intense she didn’t think she would survive. Yet, when he moved lower to trail his warm lips over her chest, she moaned, pushing him closer to her breast. Needing his mouth sucking on her tingling nipple, long and hard.

Her unspoken command was ignored so she nudged his face even closer to where she burned. Only his mouth, hot and wet could soothe the fire that raged inside her. Only Cayle could make her feel whole again, complete.

“I have to have you, all of you. Now, Cayle.”

To demonstrate, she zigzagged her nails lightly down his back and ended by digging her fingers into the tight flesh of his buttocks. Cayle exhaled a low groan, giving in at last and pulling her nipple into his mouth, rasping it with his teeth, soothing it with his tongue. As the heat built in her loins, she sobbed.

“Little one, are you all right? Should I stop?”

She groaned, arching up against him. “Do. Not. Dare. Stop,” she hissed out at him. “You’ve stopped twice before. The aching was so intense that I almost died of the pain when you left me last time. Do you understand me, Cayle?” She took a firm grip on his head and spoke inches from his face. “I can’t stand that again. Never again.”

“There’ll be pain, my love. A little.”

She nodded. “I know about the pain. Now show me the pleasure. All of it.”

Her knowledge of intimacy went beyond that of most ladies her age. Madame Faberge believed that married men wouldn’t visit her girls if well-bred ladies weren’t so ignorant in the bedroom. They knew nothing of sex apart from a rudimentary knowledge that pregnancy was achieved after furtive visits from their husbands in the darkness.

Becca wanted to learn it all, to experience every exciting moment.

Cayle moved again, shifting until the tip of his shaft probed her centre. “Tell me what you feel, sweetheart, so I know how much to push.”

“I can feel you spreading me.”

He pushed in another inch. “And now?”

She gasped. “You’re so big.”

She halted him with her hand and peered down between their bodies and was stunned by the size of his shaft, half embedded in the opening to her body. “Cayle, will this work? Am I too small for you?”

He held still, and then laughed. “No, my love. You’re just right for me. Perfect.”

He shifted to one side and took her hand from where she pressed tightly against his chest to guide it between them, until she touched his rock hard shaft. Two fingers lightly grazed him. He jerked and swallowed in a hard gulp but didn’t move away.

“Feel me. Hold me. You’ll see I was created this way just for you. To fit inside you. To fill you. And give you pleasure.”

“Oooh.”

She gave a moan, long and low, almost a growl, as she wrapped her whole hand around the width of him. His penis felt hard, yet soft. Strong yet gentle, just like the man himself. Cayle held himself still with the tip of him jutting just a little into her cleft, giving her time to explore. Giving her permission to trace the long blue veins with a finger.

She felt his erection twitch and jerk in reaction to her touch and she giggled, making him laugh. His reactions were so enthralling that she was reluctant to release him. But he pulled her hand away and muttered huskily,

“Enough, enough. You can touch me as much as you want after. Just not now. I’m too close to the edge.”

Parting her legs, she lifted her hips up to encourage more of him to slip inside her. He moved again, thrust a little. At the flash of pain, she let out a startled cry and Cayle paused, his body trembling above her with his effort. But she didn’t care about the pain, couldn’t bear the waiting, so she rubbed her hands up and down his arms, and nodded.

He plunged fully inside her and she gasped, amazed and delighted as Cayle filled her, stretching her to the limits. When he began to move within her, she realised this was exactly what she’d wanted. Needed. She hungered to hold him deep inside her hollow places, to possess him and be possessed by him.

“Yes, reach for it, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

Bliss came in a rush, pleasure sizzling through her, white hot at her centre and exploding in red bursts to shoot to every part of her body. She cried out, giving another buck towards him as he pushed further in four deep, fast thrusts until his own hoarse cry overlaid hers. Together they rode out the sunburst.

At the last second, she’d felt Cayle jerk back and spill his seed in a warm spurt on her thighs. After a moment, he rolled to the side, taking her with him to wrap her closely in his arms.

Upon his first thrust inside her tight passage, Becca had realised that her life was changed, forever. She smiled, the timeless smile of a girl who has become a woman.

• • •

“I’ve never been with a woman who was without any experience before,” her new lover murmured in absent-minded reflection.

“You mean a virgin?”

“Yes, a virgin.”

“Did I … did I disappoint you? Did you expect it to be more? For me to be more?”

She felt vulnerable as never before. The part of her that she denied — pushed aside the sexual part of her, needed the reassurance of her first lover. She wanted him to hold the memory of these moments in his heart, as she would always do.

“No, sweetheart, no.” He kissed the top of her curls. “It was wonderful. More than I dreamed it would be, and believe me, I’ve dreamed of it often.”

“You mean us. Together. In bed.”

He laughed. “In my dreams, my little innocent, we’re not always in a bed. We’re outside on the grass, in a cool pool, we’re … Well, never mind where.” He bent forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “Perhaps soon, I’ll show you all the places, and all the ways, I want to take you.”

She grinned. “So, if our first time was that wonderful, what will our second time together be like?”

He raised an eyebrow in query. “Very recently, in fact, mere minutes ago, you were a virgin. And yet, you’re already contemplating the second time.” He laughed again. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered that you want more, or apologise to you because I think that the first time disappointed you.”

“Surely Cayle St. Martin isn’t doubting his own expertise as a lover? From what I’ve heard — ”

“No!” He covered her mouth with his hand. “I don’t want you discussing me with any more of your — friends. Especially not at any brothels.”

“Even if one of the women, at one of those places, told me that when she was a young girl there, you used to be very adept at … ”

Leaning forward she whispered in his ears, shocking him enough that he shot up and glared at her.

“Hell! You are a redheaded devil. You shouldn’t even comprehend such explicit lovemaking.”

“Ah, but I’m a scientist. I love experimenting with new things.”

“Huh! That sort of experience will be best left for another time.” He studied her more seriously. “Sweetheart, you do realise that Madame Faberge and her girls were teasing you, when they spoke about me. I was a lot younger when I visited brothels. My friends and I were always out for the latest escapade. The sort to be bought at those sorts of establishments. I’m now older, and a hell of a lot wiser.”

She gasped as he lifted her over his groin and then slid her down to relocate his semi hard shaft at just the right point between her thighs.

“But in a short time, when my stamina is recovered, perhaps you’ll not be too sore to enjoy a little experimenting.”

He moved upwards until his length slid through the folds of her sex, still swollen and tender, but still wanting him. “Like this.”

He slid up and back several times until she threw back her head to groan in a mix of ecstasy and agony. “Or like this.”

And he did it again, slowly.

“Oh, yes please.”

Becca purred like a cat as she wiggled in a frantic attempt to gain an even better position. She hoped to increase her knowledge every time they were together but for now, she was content that the intense dark stranger who’d returned from abroad had disappeared. Forever she hoped. In his place was the man she’d known from their youth. Carefree, mischievous, and wonderful.

His feelings were not as hers, may never be, so she’d enjoy every minute together, knowing it wouldn’t last. Sprawled on top of him, she wiggled again, adoring how her naked playfulness aroused him.

The signs were there. His indrawn hiss of breath, the hardening of his muscled body, and the more persistent propelling of his erection up and down between her legs.

“You want me again,” she said.

With startling honesty, Cayle admitted, “Sweetheart, I think I was born wanting you.

When you changed into a woman, I had to force myself to stay away. My father warned me — ”

“Your father?” She looked at him with bewilderment.

“He noticed when we visited that my interest in you changed. From friendship for a girl who spun dreams in her head, to obsession with a beautiful butterfly on the cusp of emerging from her golden cocoon. Ready to dazzle the world. I wanted to be the only one you alighted upon.”

Touched by his poetic and romantic words, Becca leaned closer to brush her lips in a slow sweep across his. His arms tightened around her.

“I didn’t think you noticed me any more after you turned twenty. Your interest was entirely focused on Annie, the blacksmith’s daughter.” She growled. “And that total wanton, Polly.”

He laughed out loud, the vibrations rubbing against her breasts. “I remember the blacksmith’s daughter. Or at least I remember her — ” In the air, his hands formed the shape of two ripe melons. “Her unforgettable attributes.”

Balanced on his chest, Becca rolled her eyes in mock disgust and punched him lightly on the arm. “So does every other man in the district.”

“But I can’t recall a Polly.”

She snorted with disgust. “Polly was the chamber maid you cornered in the linen closets at your country home. You kissed her. Often.”

Cayle smirked. “Ah, yes, Polly. Now she could really kiss.”

Incensed, Becca glared at him. “I can kiss. I kiss very well.”

He arched an eyebrow lazily. “Really?”

Realising he was teasing her, she muttered, “Oh, you’re impossible.”

He kissed her, and then grinned unrepentantly. “I thought I was heroic, gallant, chivalrous.”

She smiled at his list then added her own, “Don’t forget arrogant, immodest, annoying.” She stilled as she stared down into his beloved face, “And utterly adorable.”

Even as he gathered her up into his arms, Cayle warned in a soft whisper, “Becca, clinging to romantic notions of me as a white knight, your ideal man, is a mistake. I’ve changed in the past four years. Life changed me, hardened me. I became more black knight than white.”

He kissed her again.

“But from now on, I want to be the man who offers you the future you merit. You deserve the best that life has to offer.”

“I deserve a man who accepts me as I am, nothing more, nothing less.”

Seeing the worry etching his face, she searched for something to relieve his distress. Something to reassure him that she was no longer a starry eyed girl. Nor was she a title chasing chit or a clinging mistress.

“If I never find him, my white knight, my perfect man, then I shall be content to travel the world. I’ll become an aunt to my nieces and nephews. Unashamedly eccentric. They’ll call me Batty Aunt Becca.”

She watched his eyes cloud over but was unsure again what it meant, what he wanted her to say, to admit. At present, he wanted her body, her passion. That was enough for now.

There would be time enough to feel the pain when he left her, as she was sure he would. Like before. She leaned in to kiss his firm mouth with enough enticement to distract him from his troubled thoughts.

Enjoying these moments of harmony and happiness, she trailed her fingers over his body. At each new discovery, she lingered, savouring the feel of his contours, so different to her own. She licked each new spot with measured and teasing consideration, revelling in her new rights and powers as a woman.

• • •

Cayle remained perfectly still under her methodical onslaught. He managed to hold himself in rigid check for several minutes, before greed overcame him. He’d seize all she offered him and hope it became more.

He needed her. Needed that indefinable energy inside Becca that lit his own fire and made him feel alive. Alive as nothing in his recent life had, and he wanted to savour each moment of it. Savour the call of the siren who kissed him with eagerness and passion, yet with the contrast of innocence to sweeten every touch.