Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) Read online

  The plump head was swollen and dark, the shaft like velvet over steel, coursed by bulging veins. I wanted to trace them with my tongue, follow the seam of his sac, and suck each of his balls into my mouth.

  But the bead of his pre-come drew me first. I licked it up eagerly, loving the salty, musky taste of him. It dissolved on my tongue, igniting me even further.

  Above me, Lucas made a harsh, guttural sound. Spurred on by it, I closed my lips over his crest and sucked lightly, flicking my tongue over his sensitive underside.

  “Emma!”

  Swept by the mingled power and pleasure this act never failed to bring me, I kept on. With one hand, I worked his shaft at the same time that I sucked harder, drawing him deeper. My other hand drifted between my legs.

  I was just about to slip a finger or two under the damp silk of my thong when he took hold of my hair, twisting it around his fist until I felt a little stab of pain.

  “Enough,” he rasped, drawing me upright.

  I acquiesced but with the greatest reluctance. Staring into smoldering gray eyes, I pouted and said, “Spoilsport.”

  His high-boned cheeks were flushed, his eyes narrowed to shards of molten steel. As he stared at me, I had the impression that he was coming to a decision.

  “You think so?” he asked. “Let’s see how you feel about this.”

  Before I could respond, he turned me and took hold of both my wrists, stretching my arms forward.

  “Brace your hands against the edge of the counter,” he ordered.

  A tremor of excitement ran through me as I obeyed.

  I heard a rustle of cloth as he finished stripping, then he was pressed against me, chest to back. The feel of his warm, taut skin against mine sent quicksilver electrical shocks dancing over every inch of my body. I trembled and tightened my grip on the counter.

  His hands settled—big, hard, and firm--on my hips. He shifted me just enough that my back arched more acutely. The position was a little uncomfortable but I didn’t care. Arousal ran through me, hot, thick, irresistible.

  I dared a glance over my shoulder and gasped. Satisfied with my position, Lucas had kept one hand on me but let the other go, using it instead to fist his gorgeous cock. Captive to his blatant sensuality, I couldn’t take my gaze from him as he pumped himself up and down with leisurely strokes.

  Heat flamed my cheeks as he chuckled and rubbed his crest all along the crease of my ass, probing just a little way between my cheeks.

  Thickly, he said, “I want you here, too, Emma. When you’re ready. I want all of you.”

  At his words, my nipples hardened almost to the point of pain. A sudden gush of arousal escaped my panties to dampen my inner thighs. If I’d been able to think even a little clearly, I might have been embarrassed. But to my lust-dazed mind, nothing mattered except the pressure radiating outward from my throbbing clit.

  “Lucas…” I rubbed against him, moaning, shameless in my need.

  He sucked in his breath and slipped a hand between my legs, stroking me though the damp silk.

  “Do you like this?” he murmured.

  “Mmmm…”

  His teeth grazed down the length of my neck to close in a small but sharp bite in the tender flesh at the base. I flinched more in surprise than pain.

  “Tell me you like it,” he demanded.

  “I do! Don’t stop, please…”

  I felt his smile against my skin as he obliged, increasing the pressure a little just where I needed it the most.

  But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

  “Touch me, Lucas, please!”

  “I am, sweetheart, but maybe you mean like this—” He slipped a finger under my panties and lightly stroked along my slit from front to back, once, twice…

  “More,” I gasped.

  At once, he paused. “More what?”

  What? What did he want me to say? Hesitantly, I asked, “More, please?”

  “That’s better,” he murmured and resumed stroking, a little more firmly but still not enough to give me any relief.

  On the contrary, the pressure continued to build, coiling through my body. I felt as though I stood on the edge of a precipice, desperate to soar but held trapped, a prisoner to his touch.

  “I’m close,” I murmured, hoping he’d take the hint.

  Instead, he murmured, “Are you? Let’s see.”

  A long, blunt-tipped finger slipped under my panties and swirled around my opening before slowly thrusting inward.

  I felt his groan against my back. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. So hot and tight. Perfect.”

  The pad of his thumb grazed my clit as he continued to stroke the inner walls of my vagina. I moaned helplessly.

  “I could make you come like this, couldn’t I?”

  “You know you can…you have…”

  “True, but not this time.”

  I gasped as he withdrew his hand, leaving me strung so tightly that every cell in my body felt about to scream.

  “Why--?” I only just managed to gasp.

  “Because,” he said as his hand wrapped around the thin edge of my thong and tugged, “I think you need to learn a lesson.”

  “W-what--?” What was he talking about? What did he intend? I sucked in breath, struggling against the wave of dark, forbidden excitement that rippled through me.

  The silk of my panties tore. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck as with agonizing slowness, he drew the fabric from between my legs before holding it aloft.

  As the sodden evidence of my need for him dangled from the tip of the finger that has just been inside me, he said, “Rather than trust me enough to tell me what happened, you’re using your body to distract me. That being the case, I’m going to use it, too.”

  Before I could even begin to process that, he draped my torn panties over the knob of the nearest kitchen cabinet, where they hung like a wet, musk-scented battle trophy.

  As I stared at them, Lucas said, “Spread your legs wider.”

  A flare of stubbornness made me hesitate. Until, that is, a rock-hard thigh thrust between mine. “Wider,” he growled.

  The hair on my nape rose. I could feel goosebumps breaking out all over my body. As a lover, Lucas was magnificent--passionate, skilled, and above all generous.

  But he’d never been angry before and he clearly was now. A shiver ran through me. How far would he go?

  How far would I let him?

  Chapter Three

  Lucas

  Slap!

  The palm of my hand landed squarely in the center of Emma’s right ass cheek. The firm flesh jiggled just a little from the impact.

  She yelped in surprise. “Lucas! What are you--?”

  Whatever she meant to say turned into a soft moan as I cupped her pussy, parting her outer folds and pinching her clit. The contrast was deliberate. I wanted her off-balance, uncertain, trembling on the brink and dependent on me to get her past it.

  I was pushing her hard and I knew it. But damn it, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. The helpless fury I felt threatened to engulf me.

  It wasn’t bad enough that she’d refused to tell me what had really happened while she was out. She’d turned my own effort to use sex to persuade her against me, playing me like the sensual virtuoso she had become.

  In barely a week!

  What would she be like with a little more practice? As it was, I went around feeling like I was fourteen again, perpetually randy and struggling to think about anything other than getting her under me again…or on top…or however. Most of my brain seemed to be taken up thinking about how she felt, how she tasted, the sounds she made, the way her wet pussy spasmed around my cock when she came, milking me--

  Hell, Chase Hollis had trounced me at handball the other day because I literally couldn’t keep my eye on the ball. Who knew what other humiliations laid in wait.

  For the first time in my life, I was in danger of being pussy whipped. No fucking way was I going to let that happen.
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  Slap!

  The sight of her skin turning pink under my hand almost undid me. I was bound and determined to be in control, but all she had to do was wiggle her ass and give one of those throaty little moans to have me on the verge of coming.

  For a moment, I was tempted to do so. The mental image of that sweet pink ass marked with my come had undeniable appeal. Plus that would leave her hanging, which might be the best way to get her to think seriously about telling me the truth. Once she did, I’d be magnanimous and get her off spectacularly.

  Except if I knew Emma, she’d knee me in the gonads and get herself off before she’d let herself be manipulated like that.

  I couldn’t find it in me to want her any other way.

  Still, a man has to do what a man has to do.

  Slap!

  Before she could react, I switched gears again and rubbed first one cheek, then the other, kneading and stroking her.

  “You look so gorgeous, sweetheart,” I crooned. “Your ass is pink, your pussy is hot and swollen. You’re so wet that your juices are dripping down the insides of your thighs. Do you have any idea what all that does to me?”

  It turned me into a raging mass of testosterone, my balls so tight that they felt about to burst and my cock so hard that I could feel it pulse with every ragged beat of my heart. I could only hope that she didn’t realize how far gone I really was.

  Her legs quivered and I wondered suddenly how much longer she’d be able to stay upright. That she was still doing so, her hands gripping the edge of the counter and her breath coming in shallow pants, was all the permission I needed.

  Giving a silent prayer of thanks that she was still with me, I positioned myself behind her and arched her hips just a little more. With an arm wrapped around her waist, I took hold of my cock and rubbed the crest along her swollen slit.

  She jerked, not away but closer, squirming against me. “Aaargh…Lucas…please!”

  The feel of those hot, slick lips all along my length made me grind my teeth. I gave her the first inch or so, then forced myself to stop even as her sweet, greedy cunt clutched at me.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran down into my eyes. I blinked it away and arched over her, my chest against her back.

  “You like that, baby?” I murmured. “You want more?”

  “Oh, god, yes! All of you, please!”

  Blood roared in my ears but I held on, if only barely. I’d come this far, I wasn’t about to give up now. Not when the stakes were as high as they were.

  “I meant what I said about you needing to learn a lesson. It’s all about trust, sweetheart. I trust you, you trust me, it goes both ways.”

  I slid a little deeper into her and stopped again. “Do you trust me?”

  She was silent for a moment before she cried out, “Yes! I do…mostly. I don’t know!”

  That last part was almost a wail. Her whole body trembled and the catch in her voice told me that she was close to coming undone.

  She was so damned used to trusting no one but herself. And for good reason, considering everything she’d been through. However much I wished otherwise, I couldn’t expect her to set that aside in the space of just a few days.

  But she did have to understand what I needed from her even if the fact that I did shocked me to the core.

  Taking hold of both her hips, I drove into her with a single hard thrust. As I did so, I grunted, “You can trust me, Emma, I swear.”

  I pulled almost all the way out and thrust again, burying myself in her balls deep. The sensation of her tight, hot pussy gripping me was so intense that every muscle in my body clenched.

  “I’ll never do anything to hurt you,” I grated and knew to the depths of my being that I meant it.

  Again, I stroked deep into her.

  “But don’t shut me out, baby,” My voice sounded like it had been dragged over sandpaper. I could scarcely breathe. But I couldn’t stop. Reaching around, I stroked her swollen clit.

  “Understand?”

  Another wail broke from her. “Yes! I don’t…I won’t…please!”

  Her pussy spasmed, squeezing along all my shaft and swollen head. Bolts of raw, hot pleasure shot from my cock straight up my spine to the base of my brain.

  Gripping her hips, I drove into her again and again. Her luscious breasts bobbed with the force of my thrusts. Sweat slicked us both.

  I felt powerful, indomitable, a fucking god! My head reared back and as it did, I caught sight of her bright red panties hanging from the kitchen cabinet. They might as well have been a flag waved in front of a bull.

  The orgasm that hit me came damn close to blowing the top of my skull off. At least, that’s what it felt like. Distantly, I heard myself shout.

  “Emma!”

  Ripped from my throat, her name was filled with desperate need but also with an unmistakable sense of triumph.

  If only for that moment, she was, “Mine!”

  Pulse after pulse, I poured myself into her. Her orgasm extended my own, wave after wave of it milking me until finally I had nothing more to give. Spent, I sagged against her. My weight carried us both to the floor. I only just had the presence of mind to turn so that she landed on top of me.

  We lay like that in a heap of tangled limbs, heaving chests, and sweat-drenched bodies. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

  To my great relief, not to mention my ego, she did not immediately bounce up and resuming making bagels.

  Instead, she lay against me, her head on my chest, hardly moving. Long moments passed before I felt the tears slipping down her cheeks to land just above my heart.

  Chapter Four

  Emma

  How did my butt manage to look so innocent? Twisting around to peer at it over my shoulder, I couldn’t see a mark on it. That was amazing considering that I could still feel each and every imprint of Lucas’ hand right where it had landed, if only in my mind.

  It was a day later and I still couldn’t believe what I’d let him do to me. Spanking! Seriously?

  Worse yet, I hadn’t just let him. I’d loved it. I wanted more. Wanted him. Oh, god, so much!

  I told myself that I was relieved to see no evidence of those firm, confident slaps that had sent my blood soaring and skyrocketed me into a shattering orgasm. But I was also weirdly disappointed, which in and of itself was disturbing.

  What was wrong with me? I hadn’t just come harder than I ever had, I’d then cried all over him. Way to go, independent, mature woman standing on her own two feet and taking care of herself.

  As though that weren’t bad enough, Lucas had been incredibly understanding. A shiver rippled through me as I recalled him carrying me into the shower, holding me upright as the hot, soothing water pelted over us both.

  I’d kept my face burrowed into his chest and my arms wrapped around his waist until I finally ran out of tears. When I dared to look up at him at last, his gaze was at once tender and filled with concern, a far cry from the dominant, demanding lover of just a short time before.

  He’d washed me with such care, starting with his thumbs gently brushing over my cheeks. By the time he was done, and had washed himself as well, I was trembling once again with need.

  My skin prickled at the remembered touch of the soft terrycloth bath sheet he’d used to dry me before he carried me to our bed.

  He hadn’t said another word about what had happened while I was out. He’d just made love to me, sweetly, passionately, overwhelmingly until I was mindless with pleasure, drugged by the scent and taste and touch of Lucas Phelps.

  Heaven help me, he’d even fixed the bagels, brought them back to bed, and cajoled me into eating.

  The jury was in and the verdict couldn’t have been clearer; he was officially the Perfect Man. At least for me. And, if I was honest, probably for a big chunk of womanhood.

  Gorgeous, smart, thoughtful, successful and a sex god in the bargain. All he wanted was for me to trust him. He was even giving me some time and space to come
to terms with that. Whereas I…

  I was going to be late.

  Rather than dwell on the thorny topic of my own trust issues, I finished dressing quickly and left the apartment.

  Outside, I paused for a moment to chat with George and inhale the gorgeous day. The sky was a cloudless blue, the scent of freshly mown grass wafted from the Park, and I could hear pigeons cooing.

  If I’d had more time, I would have gladly walked but as it was, the taxi dropped me off in front of the fashionable West Side café with scant minutes to spare.

  Caroline and Imogene were already inside, seated at a table in the inner courtyard. Both smiled as I approached.

  “Here she is!” Caroline exclaimed. “The toast of the town!”

  I shot her a quizzical look as I took the seat that the maître d’ held out for me.

  Lucas’ sister smiled back. Her gray eyes were bright with amusement. The sleek fall of her dark hair bobbed against her shoulders as she tilted her head and regarded me even more closely.

  In contrast, Imogene, the wife of Lucas’ half-brother, Adam looked calmer and more self-possessed. But even her lovely cocoa-hued skin was tinted with a warm flush of excitement and her gaze, though more circumspect, appeared to miss nothing.

  “The charity gala was wonderful,” I said cautiously. “I had an amazing time.”

  The two women exchanged an amused look before Imogene said, “I take it you didn’t have a chance to read the Sunday papers.”

  Considering that I’d spent the previous day in a multi-orgasm-induced daze scarcely interrupted by the call from Caroline inviting me to lunch, I could hardly deny it.

  “Afraid not,” I murmured, hoping that my blush would go unnoticed.

  It didn’t but the two women were too polite to mention it, or simply too amused.

  “Then we’ll fill you in,” Caroline said.

  She raised her mimosa in a salute to me. “The Post’s Page Six said you were ‘stunning’. The Daily News called you ‘radiant’. The Times said, and I quote, “The lovely Miss Whittaker appeared to be very much in her element”. But my favorite is Gawker. They called you ‘glam-gorgeous’.”