The Burlington Manor Affair

“A silly arrangement, is it?” He lifted his eyebrows and his mouth twitched in amusement as he looked at her.

So much for being serious. It hadn’t lasted long, but then again she’d rather stupidly referred to the arrangement, which had automatically taken the subject back to sex. She could have slapped herself for being so stupid. “It’s just because you can have any and every woman you want, that’s why you’ve done this, to prove that to me.”

“I told you why I did this. We had to. Too much wanting.”

His tone was intimate, his voice lowered, and she felt herself melting under his persuasive reasoning. Part of her remained guarded, and that part of her rose up and told her to beware. “But I see how you look at the place—you do have a connection, you’ll change your mind.”

He laughed softly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My dear Carmen,” he murmured. “You are so prickly.”

She gave a dismissive laugh. “You may think you know me, but you don’t.”

It was a knee-jerk reaction. He was right about her being prickly. She found it difficult to trust people. Especially when it came to him.

His expression changed. “Let me in, then. That’s what this is about, these weekends together. We’re both getting

what we want. You get the house, I get to know you. Intimately. I always wanted to know you better.”

She huffed in disbelief. “You have a weird way of showing it.”

“Weird? Direct, maybe. I can’t think of a better way of kicking aside a few barriers than making an agreement that involves us getting naked whenever we want.”

Carmen steeled herself. “Playing games, that’s what you do.”

“Perhaps. But you seem to think I don’t learn anything about you while we’re...‘playing games’ as you call it.” He stepped closer, and put his hand under her jaw, his thumb beneath her chin, lifting it so she was forced to meet his gaze. “I’ve already learned so much about you.”

There was a suggestive accusation there in his expression and it triggered an electric response in her. Carmen struggled to find a retort, her emotions spinning.

“Think about it. Every time I touch you, pleasure you, you show me some facet of yourself that can never be hidden again. Within moments I can take us both back to that place, to revisit. That’s how close we’re getting.” His hands moved, stroking down the sides of her waist and lower, around her hips. He backed her toward a nearby tree.

When she came into contact with it and felt the rough bark behind her, she let out a startled cry.

Rex responded by moving one hand over the fly on her jeans, before dipping down between her thighs. “You see, we’re right back there, with you letting yourself go before my very eyes.”

He was right, damn him, they were right back there. She looked away. She wasn’t going to give in to his reasoning.

Did he really want to know her? The question made her ache with longing. Deep inside, in some long-hidden part of her, she wanted to trust him. Memories of the night before—when he had mastered her so thoroughly—shot through her mind.

His fingers stroked her through the fabric of her jeans. She whimpered under his exploration, but met his gaze. The look in his eyes grew hotter and more demanding, his lust tangible, as if he, too, was remembering.

The sound of her zipper opening was too real. “Stop it,” she begged, “please.”

“You don’t mean that. I can see what you really want in your eyes.”

“Don’t tell me what I want.” She squirmed in his grasp. However, the rough surface of the tree at her back stimulated her wildly, as if it was colluding with him to undermine her.

His knee was between hers, pinning her there while he moved his fingers inside her underwear. She gasped aloud when he cupped her mons. All the while, he stared at her from under hooded eyes, his lips pressed together as he explored her. It was too much. Thumping him with her fisted hands, she twisted in his grasp and attempted to break free but her pussy was throbbing with arousal from the steady, rhythmic invasion of his fingers, making her fume. She turned her face away but he forced it back with one hand, then kissed her demandingly.

Her hand splayed against his chest, meaning to push him away, but the feeling of his hard chest beneath his T-shirt triggered another memory, that of him over her, naked, thrusting between her thighs. The situation echoed the one from the night before, but not fiercely enough. How could her body do this to her? Even while she squirmed, her mouth opened, taking his tongue, and before she knew it she was returning the kiss just as demandingly. Her hands roved over his shoulders and chest, clutching at him instead of pushing him away. Her hips rolled into his hand, enabling him easier access to her.

Murmuring encouragement, Rex stroked his finger over her swollen clit. “Relax,” he whispered, “let it happen.”

His voice, his actions—so persuasive. Carried away, she wrapped her arms around his head when he kissed her mouth again. It was hard, hungry, insistent, and he was bruising her lips, but she wanted it. She lifted one knee against his thigh. He clasped it to his hip, holding her steady while he stroked her to orgasm.

She was close. Her head rolled against the bark of the tree.

A moan escaped her.

When he drew back, his expression was victorious. “I always knew you’d be like this.”