Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

At her urging, a firm grip pressing his head down, he peppered light kisses around her uncovered breast. He brushed the distended nipple lightly at first before drawing the peak into his mouth. A soft moan filled the room. A sound he didn’t believe was contrived. Although Calista held his head in place at her breast and the increasing pressure was a certain sign he wasn’t to stop anytime soon, he escaped her clutching limbs and rolled the bulk of his weight onto the counterpane. He didn’t want to crush such a delectably tiny woman. And he certainly didn’t want to rush to join with her. For now he was content to arouse her.

Calista arched her back, pushing her breast harder against his mouth. He eagerly teased and tugged on her firm flesh, enjoying her moans of abandonment as his due. Making love was something he took pride in. Making a woman beg for her release, his ultimate goal.

When he drew back to caution her to patience, she flung him onto his back and straddled his body. Taking control of him and his desire again was clearly her plan. Her hands, fingers spread, swept over his chest possessively. He loved the way she touched him as if storing up the memories for another time.

“Cheeky wench,” he murmured, rather pleased that she would not let him have his own way all the time. Later, he would use his greater strength to keep her where he wanted her.

She grinned at him. “Would you rather I lay still on the bed?”

When she bit her lip and leaned close as if to kiss him, he bucked his hips beneath her, settling her sex over the softness of his belly. “Hell, no.”

Already he could feel her moisture coating his skin. Was she always this aroused by her clients or was he the lucky recipient of her exceptional passion?

“What we have is perfect,” he told her honestly. “Stay right where you are, my lovely.”

Yet Calista could not be still no matter how tightly he gripped her hips or breast. She rubbed against him like a cat against the object of her affection, butting the head of his cock with her pert bottom and rubbing her breasts against the hair on his chest. The sensations were both amusing and arousing and he couldn’t imagine the night progressing in any other manner. Calista would fight his plans for slow pleasure with every hot pant of breath. Did he really want to wrestle to keep her off his cock if she wanted it so badly?

There were more hours in the night to make love to her again, and again. There was no chance he wouldn’t want her more than once tonight.

He squeezed one full orb tightly in his hand and searched for the velvet pouch he’d tossed onto the bed. Calista’s smile dimmed and then vanished as he fished out the length of gut that most men claimed prevented the spread of disease. That wasn’t the reason he’d brought one, but he didn’t want to spend the time explaining his beliefs of why such a measure was necessary.

The first time he’d fitted the condom had been rather awkward. He’d tested the purchase at home to be sure he applied it correctly without fumbling. He had no qualms over wearing one tonight. It was in Calista’s best interests and would ease his mind. Without this, he would worry. He might fail to find release.

Calista dismounted his body, coming to sit at his side on her hands and knees to watch. She said nothing as he lowered his hands to fit the thing to himself. The pliant tube wasn’t particularly attractive, and the pale pink ribbon required to tie it firmly in place seemed absurd. But the shopkeeper in London had suggested they were essential for a sensible widowed gentleman in search of fleeting pleasure. He didn’t want to take any chances.

Under her scrutiny, he fumbled with the job of tying the ribbon. Her hand touched his thigh and then she took the ribbons from his hands, tying it securely. When her gaze rose to his, the expression in her eyes caught him off guard. Laughter or any form of passion had left her eyes. The flat expression staring at him made him feel like an utter bastard. “It’s a sensible precaution,” he told her.

There wasn’t anything she could say to change his mind. He’d chosen this brothel and planned for every eventuality. He caught her face in his hand and brought her against him to kiss, determined to bring her back into the safe haven of mutual desire.

She stretched out over him, rubbing her body seductively against his skin. Unhappy that her touches had lost their strength, he rolled them so he lay above her and started to woo his lover all over again. It was then he noticed the condom was loose. His cock has grown limp within the ribbon-tied protection and it was in danger of falling off.

Constantine buried his face in the crook of her neck. Damn universe was conspiring against him, keeping him from getting what he wanted. Frustrated, he reached down to remove it, tucking it beneath a pillow on the bed for later use. Perhaps his first plan had been the better one. He would come only once and wait as long as he possibly could. He didn’t even need to be inside Calista’s body to do that.

He eased down her body, pressing kisses over her soft belly and into the dark curls nestled below. He inhaled, loving the scent of her arousal. Eager, he forced her legs apart and held their sleek strength in his hands. He touched her sex gently with his fingertips, parted her folds and admired the effect he’d had on her body. She was so wet and ready. If not for his traitorous libido, he’d already be plowing her body thoroughly by now.

Calista moaned, a sound he did not believe manufactured for his benefit. He slid a hand from her thigh and caught one lower lip in his fingers and pinched. He parted her slowly, noticing the thigh he still held firmly trembled. He blew a soft breath over her sex and she gasped.

Pleased to have her with him once more, he teased her nubbin with firm stokes, making sure to spread her moisture as he worked. She shook when

he eased a single finger inside her body and slowly withdrew it again.

“Is that the best you can do?”

He glanced up her beautiful body and set his chin on her curls. “Is that not enough?”

She raised her head, one perfectly curved eyebrow raised. “If that is the sum of your prowess, I should have let Solange keep you.”

Constantine pressed his closed mouth to her curls and hummed, knowing the sound would vibrate through her skin and bring her pleasure. Her hips lifted toward his mouth and he shifted, flicked out his tongue, and brushed over her nubbin. “More of that but harder,” she begged.

Since her desires matched his, he settled more comfortably and learned all the ways to make Calista moan. She had quite a range of sounds but the one he found the most arousing was when she scolded him by name for failing to do exactly what she wanted. He focused all his intent on her pleasure, reveling in the mewling cries that filled the room. To add to her desire, he carefully added another finger to her drenched pussy.

“Gray, don’t.”

He did the opposite. He eased his fingers deep and then withdrew, massaging her as he wished to do with his bare cock but couldn’t. It didn’t take long before Calista clenched tight around his fingers, arched her back up from the bed, and screamed incoherently.

When her thighs released him, he slipped from the bed, washed, then returned and climbed onto the bed again. Sated, sleepy eyes blinked up at him. He tweaked her nose and drew the bedding between them down as far as he could. “Are you cold yet?”

She nodded and he eased her boneless limbs under the covers. Calista hesitantly cuddled against him and Constantine nestled her closer, guessing she became chilled quickly. His cock remained at the ready, but his urgency to fuck Calista had ebbed. Touching her, bringing her pleasure, had been enough for now.