Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) (7 page)

BOOK: Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3)
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The cost might be very high. I might never see Lucas again.
The thought stabbed through me, so agonizing that I could scarcely breathe.

Rather than surrender to that pain, I opened myself to it,
forcing myself to experience it fully. Only then could I hope to turn it into
the strength that I so desperately needed for what would come next.

Lucas

 

Feeney had warned me that Emma might know more about what
her father had done than she’d ever let on. I didn’t want to believe him but
now I had to confront the possibility that he was right.

As grateful as I was that she’d barely blinked an eye when I
told her about Yuri, I couldn’t help thinking that the big revelation I’d been
so worried could turn her against me hadn’t come as news to her. On the
contrary, I’d have given serious odds that she was well aware of the true
lengths that I’d gone to in order to save my company.

There was only one person she could have learned that
from--her father. While he was still riding high as the head of what appeared
to be one of the world’s most successful investment funds, John Whittaker had
made it his business to discover the source of the money that I’d used to best
him.

He’d even challenged me about it--once. My response had been
sufficient to assure that he never brought the subject up again, at least
publicly. Confiding it to his loving, sympathetic and ever-loyal daughter was
another matter entirely.

But as much as the evidence seemed to indicate that she was
in league with him, it pointed just as strongly in the opposite direction.

I didn’t doubt for a moment that the shock and horror she
showed when I told her about the magician were real. Yet something was lacking
even there. She hadn’t said a word about the news that her father hadn’t taken
his own life. I had a sinking feeling that the omission meant only one thing:
She was already well aware of that.

For all that I’d explored every inch of her delectable body,
made her come screaming my name over and over, and spent myself in her with a
fury I’d never experienced or even imagined, Miss Emma Whittaker remained in
some ways impenetrable.

Damn her.

And damn the way she was looking at me right then. All huge
blue eyes and moist, parted lips. So exquisite, so tempting. She’d turned my
world upside down. I didn’t regret that, not in the least. But I still had to
right the balance somehow.

A plan exploded fully formed in my mind, a good indication
that my subconscious had been working on it for a while. It wasn’t a very nice
plan but then I wasn’t feeling remotely nice. More like a guy in a knockdown,
no-holds-bared fight for what mattered most.

On that score, I had no doubt whatsoever. She needed to
trust me. Totally and irrevocably.

Why was it so maddeningly hard to get her there?

I knew all the obvious reasons having to do with her past.
But just then I didn’t give a flying fuck about any of them. I was rock hard,
on a razor sharp edge, and way past desperate.

I’d spilled my guts to this woman. Opened myself up in a way
that I’d never come close to doing before. I didn’t kid myself; Emma had changed
me irrevocably. There was no going back from her.

So how did we go forward?

The answer presented itself all too readily. I would never
hurt her but I would go to any lengths short of that to break through the walls
she’d erected around herself. Even if that meant taking her apart piece by
piece until she forgot any reason she thought she’d had for withholding any
part of herself from me.

I was totally up for that, in every possible way.

“Sweetheart,” I said and it was as though I was standing
apart, listening to myself, all smooth and seductive like butter wouldn’t melt
in my mouth. “You seem so tense. What can I do to make you feel better?”

Seriously, that was the line I was going with? I was a
little embarrassed, to tell the truth. Maybe it really was time to let the
caveman loose.

“I need you,” Emma said. Her voice was thready, little more
than a whisper. She was flushed, her breathing shallow. Glancing down, I saw
that her nipples were hard.

Okay, maybe Mister Twenty-first Century did know a thing or
two.

“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 along 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.

BOOK: Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3)
3.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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