Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) Page 7

  “Please,” she murmured and incredibly my cock hardened even further. “I don’t want to think about all this. I just want to forget…to lose myself.” Her hands trailed down my chest, coming to rest over my groin. Her fingers traced the bulge of my hard-on as her eyes held mine.

  “Please,” she said again.

  I was in control. Totally. I was going to do exactly what I’d decided to do. I absolutely was not being played by her.

  “Whatever you want,” I murmured and drew her to me.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Lucas!”

  Emma’s voice was partly muffled by the mattress but I didn’t have any trouble hearing her. All my senses were attuned to the writhing, panting, magnificent woman under me. I felt every tremor of her sweet, lithe body, every quivering ripple of her silken skin, every gasp and moan given up in tribute to what I and I alone could make her feel.

  Damn straight, just me. On that score at least, the caveman and Mister Twenty-first Century were in full accord. I owned every nuance of her pleasure the same way I owned her. Or at least I damn well would. Nothing was going to stand in my way.

  With my finger stroking her swollen clit and my cock rubbing all along her hot, wet slit, she was so close. I’d learned all the signs and I had no hesitation about taking full advantage of that knowledge.

  I brought her to the very edge, just as the first wave of release started to overtake her. And then I stopped. Again.

  She cried out in helpless frustration. “No!”

  Music to my ears. I was long past playing fair when it came to the delectable Miss Whittaker. When I decided to break her down, I meant exactly that. Those walls had to go. Before I was done, they wouldn’t even be rubble for her to hide behind.

  It wasn’t as though I hadn’t already let her come; I had, several times. But those orgasms were just the hors d’oeuvres. I had much, much more planned.

  Distantly, in the back of my mind, I knew that my restraint couldn’t last forever. Already, the mega-semen backup of all time was threatening to blow off the back of my skull.

  Even so, I wasn’t about to use any of those distraction techniques some guys depend on at such delicate times--reciting the fantasy line-ups for the top ten NFL teams, envisioning your third-grade teacher, the one with the facial warts, and so on. None of that for me. I was way too busy concentrating on Emma herself.

  My thumb and forefinger twisted the hard little bud of her nipple at the same time I bit the nape of her neck and sucked hard. I knew perfectly well the effect both such moves had on her and I deployed them ruthlessly.

  But Miss Whittaker was nothing if not full of surprises. Without warning, she turned her head and sank her teeth into my forearm. And not lightly.

  Startled, I pulled back just enough to give her the opportunity she wanted. She didn’t hesitate to take it. In an instant, she turned under me so that we were face-to-face.

  “Enough,” she said as she pulled my head down until her lips brushed mine and I felt her breath, warm and sweet mingling with my own. “I want you now, inside me.”

  As she spoke, her thumb rubbed over my crest, catching my pre-come as she squirmed to bring me closer. Her thighs fell open, her breasts rose and fell with her ragged breathing, and her eyes glazed with passion.

  Hands down, she was the most exquisite, enthralling sight I had ever beheld awake or in my dreams.

  Damn, if I couldn’t come just looking at her.

  “Now,” she repeated, managing to sound at once pleading and demanding.

  I would have laughed but I’d forgotten how to breathe. All I could do was stare down at her until I finally got a sufficient grip on myself to respond.

  No way would I let her win this one. That was my mantra, my lodestar, the one unchanging reality in a world swiftly spinning out of all control.

  I put my weight on my knees and yanked her arms over her head. With one hand, I held her wrists manacled.

  “My terms,” I grated. “My way.”

  As I spoke, her eyes rolled back in her head. With a groan, she said, “Whatever. Just do it!”

  She had no idea what she was inviting but I would be more than happy to show her.

  “What?”

  Her startled exclamation a moment later made me grin. If I did say so myself, I’d done a good--and more importantly fast--job of securing her wrists to the headboard of the bed. But then I’d planned ahead, grabbing a handful of Margo’s silk scarves out of a drawer when we came into the room while keeping Emma too distracted to notice. I had to hope that the late movie star, apparently no stranger to passion herself, would have understood.

  As Emma stared up at my handiwork, her lips parted in surprise and her eyes widened even further. I took advantage of her preoccupation to grasp a slim ankle, loop a length of silk around it, and secure it to one of the posts at the base of the bed.

  Too late, she realized what I was doing. By the time she tried to jerk her other ankle away, I already had a firm hold on it.

  Staring at me in shock, she said, “I can’t… I don’t…”

  Ignoring the incessant throbbing of my cock, I said, “I know I’m pushing you, babe. If you really can’t tolerate this, tell me and we’ll stop.”

  That was the Achilles heel of my grand plan. She could call a halt at any time. No matter what it cost me, I would never compel her to accept anything that she didn’t want. In that regard, she had all the power.

  I had to pray that I’d judged the situation between us correctly. Emma was a woman of extraordinary passion and courage. What we’d already experienced together was beyond anything I could have imagined but I was convinced that even more was possible.

  And I was determined to get us there.

  With--and only with--her agreement.

  I watched, hardly breathing, as her pupils dilated until her eyes looked like dark, velvety pansies. The tip of her tongue snuck out to moisten the exquisite mouth so adept at driving me wild. Her gaze, moving over the length of my body, felt like the most sensuous caress.

  Moments ticked away, each a hot, piercing torment of uncertainty, until at last she gave a small but unmistakable nod. I sucked in a breath as I gave silent thanks for her willingness to trust me in this way at least. The rest would come. It had to; the alternative was unthinkable.

  My hands shook a little as I secured her other ankle. When it was done, I stepped back and drank in the sight of her.

  Stretched out on the bed, secured for my pleasure--and hers--Emma looked like a goddess. Her golden hair spread out across the pillow, her skin glowed, and I could feel the heat radiating from her.

  The ragged rise and fall of her breathing drew my gaze to her breasts, round, full, tipped by hardened nipples begging to be sucked.

  Soon, baby, soon.

  Small tremors rippled her taut belly. I could see the muscles of her delectable ass clenching as she instinctively pulled against her bonds, more testing them than resisting. But it was the glistening dampness of her pussy that riveted my attention. Beneath the tantalizing arrow of trimmed hair, she was wet with need. For me.

  My cock leaped in response. The temptation to bury myself in her was all but overwhelming but so was the urgent need to taste her.

  Settling myself between her spread thighs, I stroked the sensitive inner skin with my thumbs and smiled. She looked down the length of her body at me, her gaze at once enthralled and wary.

  The tightness in my chest made it almost impossible to speak but I managed all the same. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m going to make this so good for you.”

  I was lying. What I really intended was to make it so cataclysmically great that she came apart, all defenses gone, completely and utterly mine.

  To that end, I separated the outer lips of her sex. Her clit was so swollen that it looked like a ripe little berry just begging to be sucked and nibbled. In due time; not quite yet.

  First…

  Yielding to irresistible need, I stroked the flat of my tongue a
long her slit from her opening to just short of her clit. She tasted beyond delectable. Her juices acted like a drug on me; I couldn’t get enough of her.

  My craving threatened to spiral out of all control. Before it could derail my intentions, I grasped her hips, lifting her slightly so that I could lap at her with long, broad strokes. I paused only long enough to catch some of her silken liquid on one thumb. Reaching around, I parted the cheeks of her ass and carefully circled her tight opening there.

  She stiffened but only for an instant. Before she could think about what I intended, I swirled the tip of my tongue around her cunt and drove in, tongue fucking her ruthlessly. At the same time, I eased the thumb that I’d moistened past the tight ring of muscles and into her up to the first knuckle.

  The effect was all I could have hoped for and more. With a strangled cry, she arched, pulling hard on the restraints as a hoarse cry broke from her. “Lucas!”

  My only answer was a low, satisfied growl. I wasn’t capable of anything more. Every particle of attention and control that I possessed was focused on driving her higher than she had ever been before.

  My reward was a rush of even greater wetness. She was panting, writhing under me and this time I didn’t stop. When she was on the very edge, I continued thumb fucking her ass while I finally gave her clit the attention it more than deserved. Sucking her ruthlessly, I let her just feel the edge of my teeth.

  “Oh, my god!” She cried out as her entire body drew taut as a bowstring.

  I waited, letting the first wave of her orgasm crest before I moved to fist my cock and position myself. While she was still in the throes of release, I drove into her hot, slick sheathe. At once, her inner muscles spasmed around me, drawing me even deeper. The sensation was so intense that for a moment, the world went black around the edges of my vision.

  Experiencing the orgasm I had given her so intimately and intensely drove all the breath from me. My lungs burned as my heart tried to hammer its way out of my chest. But that didn’t stop me from reaching down and stroking her clit repeatedly, prolonging her release even as I denied my own.

  She kept coming, over and over, wave after wave taking us both. All the while, she sobbed my name, music to my ears and a balm to my darkest, deepest needs. I knew in that instant that I possessed her utterly, if only for the moment.

  It was the thought that she could still withhold anything from me after this that finally broke my endurance. With a hoarse shout, I seized her hips, lifting her hard against me and drove into her, thrusting fast and deep. Unerringly, my cock hit the most sensitive spot inside her again and again.

  Her cunt tightened, quivering all around me. My head fell back as I savored the sensation. She kept coming, over and over, ragged moans breaking from her straining throat.

  My own orgasm hit with the force of a tsunami, pulling me under. My balls pulled up vise-tight and erupted. Jet after jet of semen spurted into her in thick, hot bursts that seemed to go on forever. The pleasure was so raw and brutal that it felt as though my spine was shattering.

  Or maybe it was my heart.

  I didn’t care. Nothing was going to deter me from my plan, absolutely nothing. Not the soft mewing sounds she was making or even the sight of the tears seeping from the corners of her wide, dark eyes.

  Even as my balls finally drained and I sagged against her, I knew that we weren’t done. Not by a long stretch. On the contrary, I’d barely gotten started.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emma

  The front car of the Cyclone that I was sitting in slanted downward. I clung to the edge of the seat, terrified that I was about to be thrown from it.

  Coney Island spread out to either side. I could see the colored lights and neon signs of the attractions and hear the lilt of calliope music.

  But it was the ocean that commanded my attention. It loomed directly below, dark and turbulent, roiled by an oncoming storm. The rush of blood in my ears rivaled the angry murmurings of the sea and the steadily increasing wind.

  Panic surged in me as I realized that the wood-and-metal track of the roller coaster with its steep climbs and dips had vanished. There was nothing below me but empty air. I was trapped with no hope of escape.

  The car jerked suddenly. In an instant, my mind darted from disbelief at what was happening to terrified certainty. I opened my mouth to cry out but no sound escaped. Mute with fear, I could only wait, helpless to prevent the inevitable.

  Another jerk and then… Falling! Adrenaline roared through me, igniting every cell. Light vanished; I was enveloped in darkness, plummeting headlong toward a shattering impact. I could smell the salt tang of the waves and feel spectral fingers of icy water clawing at my face. Horror filled me.

  In the next instant, I shot upright. My heart pounded wildly. Astonishment at still being alive warred with lingering terror. What had just happened? Where was I?

  Slowly, the roller coaster car, Coney Island, the ocean, all dissolved. In their place the shadowed contours of the master bedroom emerged. Several moments passed before I accepted that none of what I had just experienced had been real. It was all an illusion cast up by my overwrought mind, a nightmare.

  My relief was overwhelming. It heightened even further at the sight of Lucas, sprawled on his stomach fast asleep beside me in the bed. The covers were pushed down below his waist, revealing the powerful contours of his broad back. In the dim light, I could just make out the thin, red streaks that marred his taut skin. My face flamed.

  Too vividly, I recalled how wantonly I had clung to him in the heights of passion. The pads of my fingers still tingled with the sense memory of his sculpted muscles clenching as he drove into me over and over. Deep inside, I felt the resonance of our shared passion. My chest tightened painfully at the reminder of all I was about to lose.

  The small clock on a nearby table showed the time: 6:10 a.m.

  It would be light soon.

  Spurred by that awareness, I started to move only to stop abruptly. My body had a few things to say about the excesses of the previous day…and night, the long, exquisite hours of unbridled sensual indulgence. I supposed that was to be expected but I couldn’t manage any regrets, just lingering astonishment at my own behavior.

  As I gathered up my clothes from the floor, I noticed the faint marks on my wrists. Not very long ago, I would have been horrified by the sight of them and what they signified. Now all I could manage was a lingering sense of arousal tinged with embarrassed pride.

  I had given Lucas everything he demanded, holding nothing back, at least physically. And in doing so, I had held him enraptured even as he held me.

  All the same, I couldn’t forget the words he had murmured in the heat of passion so intense that it threatened to burn away all my defenses.

  “Trust me, sweetheart. I won’t let you down.”

  “Talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s got you spooked.”

  And even, “Let me in, damn it!” This while he was already buried so deeply inside me that I was no longer sure where one of us ended and the other began.

  Whether low and seductive or harsh and rasping, his voice had a power all its own. I marveled that I’d been able to resist it. But nothing, no amount of carnal persuasion or reason-destroying pleasure could convince me to put him at risk. Someday, he’d understand why I had done as I had. I could only hope that he wouldn’t hate me for it.

  At the thought of how he would react when he realized that I was gone, my throat clotted with unshed tears. Before they could begin to fall, I moved quickly. Ignoring my body’s protest, I left the master bedroom.

  Upstairs, in the guest room that I’d occupied so briefly but where I had left most of my few belongings, I made a quick inventory. My father had said that I didn’t need to bring much with me but that I shouldn’t leave behind anything that I really cared about. He was presuming that I would never return. I had to do the same.

  The temptation to walk away without anything that would remind me of my brief time wi
th Lucas was almost overwhelming. But it was vital that I do nothing that could arouse my father’s suspicions about my true intentions.

  To that end, I shoved a few clothes into a small bag and looked around for anything else to add. My eye fell on the music box that I had placed on top of the dresser.

  My father had given me the box on my sixteenth birthday. At the time, I thought it was a childish gift but sweet all the same. Bringing it along would convince him better than anything else that I was still his “star”.

  Still, I hesitated before slowly opening the lid. As the familiar tune began to play, the words to it slipped through my mind:

  Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

  How I wonder what you are!

  Up above the world so high,

  Like a diamond in the sky.

  Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

  How I wonder what you are!

  As I watched the tiny ballerina whirl to the tinny music, I couldn’t help thinking how much better off I would have been if I had questioned what sort of man my father really was rather than just accepting his lies. So would a great many other people who had lost so much because of him.

  But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

  Instead, I shoved the box into my bag before grabbing a quick shower--two minutes under cold water. Still damp and shivering, I pulled on clothes and ran a brush through my hair before gathering it into a loose ponytail. With that much accomplished, I couldn’t postpone any longer what I knew had to be done.

  If I simply disappeared, Lucas would move heaven and earth to find me. I couldn’t take the risk of him succeeding.

  In the library, I took a sheet of paper from Margo’s desk. My eyes stung as I wrote a quick note:

  Lucas,

  We were always temporary.

  Now it’s time for me to move on.

  Emma

  Short and to the point. All the better if he thought it was cruel; he wouldn’t want anything more to do with me.

  By the time I finished, my cheeks were wet. I swiped a hand across them impatiently. My father would never believe that I was eager to start my new life if I looked as though I’d been crying.