Free Fantasy 03 - Double Fantasy by Cheryl Holt Page B

away or fight his potent allure.
    He was smug with his possession of her, and as he shoved away the bodice of her chemise, baring her bosom, she was lost. Any argument or discussion was incinerated by the heat he generated.
    He gazed at her, rippling with male appreciation.
    "My, my, Anne, you are so lovely."
    He bent to her inflamed nipple and sucked it into his mouth, and he nursed as a babe would its mother, but with none of the tenderness. He was rough and demanding, his tongue and teeth nipping and laving her.
    He played with both nipples, his lips tormenting one while his fingers worked at the other. He shifted back and forth, back and forth, driving her to such a fevered pitch that she was dizzy, and she started to fret. It had to be dangerous for something to feel so good.
    "Jamie, stop. Oh, do stop."
    "No."
    "You never listen to me."
    "I would—if you ever said anything worth hearing."
    "Someone might come in. They'll see."
    "No one will see," he insisted. "Besides, you spent the entire evening in my bedchamber, so you're thoroughly ruined. If a maid walked in just now, you'd be doing precisely what she'd expect."
    "Ruined," she muttered with dismay. In the quiet ambiance of the lazy morning, she hadn't thought about the consequences of her being imprisoned in his room. By locking her in, he'd effectively quashed any refusal to wed.
    If she spurned him now, she'd be tarred and feathered and run out of the neighborhood by an angry mob.
    "There's no fixing the past, my little soiled dove. You'll have to marry me."
    "You're a beast, Gladstone."
    "Yes, I am, and don't you forget it. And you're to call me Jamie when we're alone. Don't forget that, either."
    "I hate you."
    "No, you don't."
    "I do. I absolutely do."
    "I can't abide a surly woman. Don't pout."
    He commenced again, and for a brief second she imagined herself rearing up, tossing him off, and strutting out in a huff. But with her downfall complete, it seemed so futile. His mouth was at her breast, and every inch of her—down to bone and pore—was elated.
    Though she was loathe to admit it, she was possessed of a previously unobserved licentious character, and he knew that she was. He'd lured it to the fore, had teased and cajoled until she wished to do nothing but lounge in his bed and romp with abandon.
    With resignation, and a bit of petulance, she joined in, drawing him close and beginning to explore. She'd never viewed a man's body before, and she was intrigued by the differences. He was so firm and muscled, so strong and solid. She wanted to touch him all over, and she glided her hands over his shoulders and arms, excited by the feel of his hot skin.
    To her amazement, he had hair on his chest. It was thick across the top, but it narrowed to a thin line and disappeared into his trousers. She kept riffling through it, never tiring of how soft and springy it was. He enjoyed having her massage him, and occasionally he'd tremble with delight. The realization—that she had the power to titillate him—made her more bold, which spurred him on, too.
    His hand was moving down in slow circles, dropping lower and lower. She was too overwhelmed to fully focus on his destination, and before she could clearly discern his intent, he'd eased up the hem of her chemise so that her privates were bared.
    He caressed her between her legs, his fingers tangled in her womanly hair. She tried to protest, tried to wiggle out from under him, but he merely held her more tightly.
    "Jamie?" She felt as if she were standing on a cliff and he was about to hurl her over. "What are you doing?"
    "I'm making love to you, as a husband does to his wife."
    "I don't like it." "You will."
    "But... but... are you sure this is how it's done?" "Very sure."
    "It seems awfully . .. physical." "It is that." "But..." "Hush."
    He slid two crafty fingers inside her, and they fit perfectly, as if they'd been created for just that purpose and no other. To her ultimate chagrin, her loins flexed, eagerly