Passion for the Game (Georgian 2)

She shivered with renewed desire and turned her head to find him watching her. He canted an eyebrow and then yanked her closer, tugging her body to drape over his side.

It was nice to be held so tightly to him, his long legs tangled with her much shorter ones, his powerful arms wrapped around her torso. Remnants of perspiration made their skin cling together. Maria closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, now intensified by his exertions. It was obvious such tenderness was unknown to him. His hands moved over her hesitantly, as if he were unsure of what to do.

“Are you sore?” he rasped softly.

“We can have sex again, if you wish. Or I can retire, if you would lend me a robe.”

His grip tightened. “Stay.”

It was nearly dawn. She would have to leave soon, regardless—both his room and this manse. Dover and the possibility of finding Amelia was a strong lure. Optimism was a luxury, but if she had no hope at all she could not go on.

Christopher’s hand stroked down the length of her spine, arching her into him, an action which revealed the hard length of his renewed erection against her thigh. Arousal, more languorous than the fever they had experienced earlier, moved through her veins. It made her breasts swell into his chest and her nipples harden next to his skin.

“Hmm…” he purred, drawing her completely on top of him.

She stared down at her fallen-angel lover, gifted with the beauty of the heavens on his exterior but the conscience of a predator on the interior. Her hands shifted through his golden hair, making his eyelids lower with pleasure and his pupils dilate with desire.

“I do not find blond men all that attractive,” she said, mostly to herself.

In response, he laughed that rich deep laugh that made her belly warm. “I am grateful other parts of you disagree.”

Snorting, she rose up to a seated position.

“I do not like shrewish women.” The curve of his mouth deepened. “But I do like you. God only knows why.”

His praise, offhand as it was, pleased her. In the distance, she heard a timepiece sounding out the hour.

Christopher’s smile faded. “A pity we are not at home,” he said, his sapphire gaze intense. “I dislike being rushed.”

Maria shrugged, refusing to acknowledge that she felt the same. Neither of them knew how to deal with the other, but the level of awareness between them was so high, she knew she would feel its lack.

Arching her hips, she found the hot length of him with the lips of her sex and glided along his cock, the movement aided by the slickness of their mingled release. His large hands gripped her thighs and urged her to repeat her actions. She did, then paused.

His eyes never left her. The intensity of his perusal was unique, and she could not decide if she liked it or if she did not. So she reached between them, aiming him skyward, and gloved him with her body, effectively scattering her thoughts.

A harsh inhale and the tightening of his frame was his reply. Maria felt the same brutal rush of sensation. It had been a long time since her last sexual encounter, too long. But Christopher was a well-endowed man in addition to that, and his possession of the tight space inside her stretched her deliciously. She quivered around him, starting from deep inside where she hugged him and then spreading outward.

“Damnation,” he hissed, throbbing and growing in girth within her. “How could I ever think you were cold?”

Intrigued by his possible meaning, she stilled just shy of engulfing the root of him.

A muscle in his jaw ticked violently. “Your cunt is burning hot and greedy. It sucks at my cock. The sensation is incredible.”

She smiled and lowered, taking him completely inside her. She knew in that moment that she had his attention. He would desire her while she was gone, and that impatience would serve her well. Pleased, Maria leaned over him, pausing with her mouth hovering just above his. “May I kiss you?” she asked.

His head lifted, his mouth taking hers, his tongue plunging deep and then thrusting rhythmically, licking, stroking. Making her shiver.

“Yes,” he whispered darkly, breathing hard, his hands cupping her spine. “Do everything to me.”

She rose for leverage and gasped at the feel of his mouth latching onto her nipple. As he began to suck, her eyes slid closed. She grew wetter, more aroused, the weight of her torso balanced on the hands she had rested next to his shoulders. He drew on her with long, deep pulls that were echoed in the tremors her body made around his cock. He flexed inside her and she moaned a low, plaintive sound.

“This is how we will start the day.” Christopher’s raspy voice was a tactile caress across her fevered skin. “Don’t move. I will suck you to orgasm, and your cunt will do the same for me.”

If she could have spoken, she would have told him that was impossible, but then he would have proven her wrong. His mouth was enchanted, tugging firmly in a timed rhythm, his tongue stroking back and forth across the underside of her nipple. First one, and then the other. His large hands with their tantalizing calluses soothed her as she became more agitated, her body writhing over his in its quest for orgasm.

When she climaxed, he followed her, her cunt grasping at his cock, luring his seed, spasming as he flooded her with a guttural cry. Maria was held taut, suspended, caught in a grip of brutally fierce pleasure.

He caught her close, engulfing her in warm arms, his lips pressed tightly to her forehead. He fell asleep that way.

But even in slumber, he did not let her go.

Maria entered her rooms with a sigh of relief. She had not been seen by anyone, a miracle made possible by pressing herself into recessed doorways to avoid detection by industrious maids.

In another part of the manse, Christopher slept on. He had frowned when she pulled away from him, but he did not wake.

Shutting the gallery door, Maria moved through the sitting room toward her bedchamber and stopped midstep, startled by the large form that filled the doorway.

“Mhuirnín.”

Simon leaned against the doorjamb, his body fully clothed and beautifully attired in rose-colored breeches with matching coat. One heeled foot crossed over the other, but the artless pose was unable to hide the tension of his frame.

“You gave me a fright,” she admonished, her hand pressed over her racing heart.

His gaze st

arted at the top of her head and dropped all the way to her bare feet. She was drowning in Christopher’s robe, so there was not much of her to see, but she knew the night’s lascivious activities could not be disguised.

“You slept with him,” he noted. Straightening, Simon came to her with his leisurely, seductive stride and cupped her face in his hands. “I do not trust him. Because of that, I do not trust you with him.”

“Do not think about it.”

“Easier said than done. Women often find their feelings tangled with sex. That concerns me.”

“Aside from you, I have never had that problem.”

His mouth twitched. “I’m flattered.”

“No,” she said wryly, “you’re arrogant.”

“That, too.” His half smile widened into a grin.

Maria shook her head, yawning. “I need sleep. After I bathe, we will be departing. I think I will nap in the carriage.”

“Dover. Sarah informed me.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her forehead. “She has nearly finished packing. My trunks are already on the coach in the drive.”

“I will not take long.” The scent of Christopher clung to her skin and made her stomach quiver. He had killed for her, then made passionate love to her, and then held her with such tenderness…The multiple sides to him took her by surprise, rocking the very foundations of the image of the pirate she had once entertained.

Simon stepped back and then moved to the sideboard to pour a glass of water. “I urge you to haste, mhuirnín. We do not want any unpleasant scenes.”

Maria hurried to the bedroom door, then paused on the threshold. “Simon?”

He looked at her with brows raised in silent query.

“Do I tell you often enough how much I appreciate you?”

“You love me,” he replied with a wicked grin. “There is no need to say it, I know you do.” He tossed back his drink and poured another. “But feel free to tell me as often as you like. My ego can bear it.”