Authors: Anya Richards
Tags: #erotic romance, #IDS@DPG, #dpgroup.org, #Historical, #Victorian
Over and over again he plunged into her, until he had to hold her thighs apart and she writhed beneath his onslaught. Falling back onto the mattress, her back arching up off the bed, she jerked her hips to meet each thrust, the whirlwind within spinning in a crazed dance toward culmination.
Then, suddenly, Sergio pulled her legs tight to his side and demanded, “Spend for me, Jane.”
The change in position and rough command threw her body into a spasm of release. A scream lodged in her throat as Sergio thrust harder, faster, prolonging the maddening, blissful pleasure devastating her body. And he didn’t stop until he had wrung the final, shuddering sigh from her, and her limbs slowly began to relax.
But there was no time for true relaxation, as she was jerked up into his arms. With his cock still imbedded within her body, Sergio climbed onto the bed, carrying her as he crawled on his knees to the middle of the mattress. Forcing her trembling arms and legs to hold on to him, Jane buried her face in his damp neck, kissing and sucking at his skin, reveling in the harsh sounds of need echoing from his chest.
Then she was on her back, his face above hers, hard arms bracketing her body, his weight holding her immobile. Despite the force of her orgasm, already her body was pulsing again, aroused by his strength and the fire of want burning in his eyes.
“I have dreamed of this moment.” The words growled from his throat, and although he was already deep inside her, he pressed closer yet. “Of being buried in your body, of watching you come apart in my arms.
La sua bellezza porta via il mio fiato
. Your beauty steals my breath, makes me weak with passion.”
Dipping his head, Sergio claimed her lips, his mouth hard and demanding. Once more Jane lost herself in him, in the wet tangle of their tongues, the pleasurable rasp of his chest hair on her nipples and joy of being completely filled by him—body and soul. When his hips began to move, his cock sliding and plunging in and out, she cried out into his mouth, battered by waves of sublime sensation.
Sergio tangled one hand into her hair, the other sliding to cover her breast, fingers finding and pinching her nipple. Squirming beneath him, trying to move but unable to, Jane clutched his back. Then she slid her hands down, over the rippling, bunching muscles, to dig her short nails into his gorgeous arse.
Breaking the kiss, he dragged his lips over her skin, until he could speak against her breast. “
Sono in fiamme per ti
.” Punctuating the words with a hard suck of first one nipple and then the other. When he lifted his head, Jane fancifully thought she saw sparks deep within his dark eyes. “I am on fire for you.”
His thrusts grew harder, stronger, and his face tightened, his lips parting in a feral grimace. Oh, how she wanted to watch him as he found release, knowing it was her body, being in her that pushed him past the boundary. Digging her fingers into his heaving muscles, she urged him to go faster, moved her lower body as much as she could, wanting to drive him insane, just as he drove her to erotic madness.
Arching his body, he reached between them, groaning her name as he did. Then his thumb was sliding into her cleft and pressing down, so each time his cock left and entered her cunt it dragged over her nub.
The clench of her body, the rush of fire into every vein and sinew made a scream of pleasure break from her lips. Once more she was being flung into the maelstrom but she refused to let it overtake her, resisting, resisting, only letting go when he cried out her name and pulled out of her body to spill his seed over her belly.
Only then, as spurt after hot spurt covered her stomach and breasts and she’d seen his face contort with ecstasy, did she succumb and join him in bliss.
Chapter Eleven
He would have to force her to become his forever.
There was no doubt in Sergio’s mind. Jane was his,
only his
, but getting her to admit it, to agree they belonged together, would take more than plying her body with pleasure.
That he’d done to the very best of his ability as the afternoon progressed, despite knowing in his heart it wouldn’t be enough. There was no part of her body he hadn’t touched, kissed, sucked. No inch of her soft, giving flesh he hadn’t tasted or caressed. And each moment that passed had reconfirmed for him how right it was to be with her, the love inside him growing and expanding until he couldn’t imagine surviving without its sweet, glorious sting.
After his first release he’d smeared his semen into her flesh, an animalistic desire to mark her making him rub it into her breasts and belly. Instead of remonstrating with him, or looking at him with disgust, Jane had watched his hands work over her flesh, her breath coming faster, her nipples tightening once more beneath his caresses. Unable to help himself, Sergio had ordered her to spread her thighs as wide as she could and used his seed-slick thumb to circle her nub, watching it grow red and erect with arousal. When he’d put her legs over his shoulders and lifted her bottom off the bed to replace his thumb with his mouth, her moan of pleasure had brought him back to hardness instantly.
Lashing her with his tongue, licking and sucking, holding on to her writhing body, he’d taken her to the edge of release and eased her back from it a number of times. So many, in fact, the most lascivious curses and entreaties issued from his sweet Jane’s lips, and he realized he loved that too. To be able to take her so far beyond her demure persona that she would say things such as,
“Bugger you, Sergio. Suck me, you bastard. Make me spend before I die,”
was thrilling.
When he’d used a combination of saliva and spendings to coat his finger and insinuated it into her ass, her scream of release, the way her body thrashed so he could hardly hold it, was almost more than he could bear.
Every demand he made of her, Jane joyfully acceded to. He loved the way her eyes grew limpid as he sucked on her fingers and toes, darkened and became stormy as he teased her body back to passion. The contrast of his swarthy skin again her paleness drove him wild. Her raspberry-hued nipples drew him like a feast calls to a starving man. And, most of all, he loved the way she touched him, as though he were somehow precious, his body something she wanted to explore to the fullest. She had called him beautiful and she looked at him, caressed him, as though she meant it.
Yet, although the carnal pleasure he’d experienced was sublime, the moments he’d remember forever from this afternoon had nothing to do with physical enjoyment. Instead it was the instances of laughter and simple communion that thrummed through his heart, highlighting his assurance that they belonged together. Sharing the simple meal of bread, cheese and sausage he had brought, talk flowed so effortlessly between them it was as though they had known each other all their lives.
Reaching across the table, he’d gently lifted a lock of hair that was falling against her cheek and hooked it behind her ear. Looking up, she’d smiled at him so sweetly—almost shyly—that his heart stuttered with joy. And, later, he’d been reduced to helpless laughter as she critiqued Gustav’s more fanciful paintings in a voice he easily recognized as mimicking Grimond, the Lowells’ butler. For that he’d been moved to snatch her up and, humming the strains of a quadrille, dance her about the studio until she was breathless with laughter.
Those were moments to cherish, to hold dearer even than the sweetness of her surrender and the wildness of their lovemaking. When they grew old, and the fires of desire perhaps had dimmed to a glowing warmth, it was the ability to speak to each other and laugh together that would ensure their continued happiness.
Now lying on the bed, sated and exhausted, yet with a mind clearer than he could ever remember it being, Sergio watched for her to come out from behind the screen and wondered how to proceed.
Strange to think his entire life to this point—all the struggles to maintain his autonomy, the fights to make his own way—were in preparation for this moment. If he were a man of lesser mettle, used to giving in when others said it was for his own good, or afraid to go against convention, he would lie here and watch Jane walk away, perhaps forever.
Beyond the windows, darkness had fallen. He’d risen and lit lamps when twilight thickened the shadows and he could no longer see the rosy flush on Jane’s cheeks, the delicious lips parted for his. She’d be thinking of going back to the Lowells’ house, back to being Mrs. Rollins, dependable, unflappable housekeeper. He knew he had to let her go, but he wasn’t ready yet. Not until she admitted what they’d shared was important and the bond between them superseded whatever else there was in their lives.
Not until he’d gotten her to admit they belonged together.
Through the gloom behind the screen, Jane stared at herself in the tiny wall-mounted mirror, and wondered how she would force herself to leave. All she wanted to do was crawl back into the bed with Sergio, hold him, stay with him forever.
How could one day make such a difference in her life?
Before she’d left to come here, she’d been excited, knowing the carnal delights awaiting her would be beyond anything she’d ever experienced. And she’d been scared of discovery, frightened that indulging in the passion Sergio inspired may destroy everything she’d worked so hard to achieve.
Now… She shook her head, blinking against the sting of tears. Now she was terrified to know that, sometime during the afternoon, she’d lost herself completely in Sergio’s arms. Terrified to admit she would never be the same. Never be content with what, just days before, had seemed the culmination of all her dreams. How could she return to the sterile life she’d been living, having been so thoroughly, completely…ravished by Sergio?
Her mind tried to insist she’d been
loved
, but she couldn’t allow herself to think that way. Just because her lust and fascination had been transmuted to that most precious of emotions didn’t in any way mean Sergio felt the same. If ever there were a time to maintain her commonsense and be realistic, it was now. Heartbreak was assured. There was no need to add decimated pride and the worst kind of embarrassment to it.
She tugged the snarls from her hair with a small comb she found next to the basin. And she used the washcloth and towel, hopefully wiping away the scent of sexual congress and Sergio, although she would have preferred it remain on her skin as long as possible. It was time to dress and return to her old life, as difficult as that would be.
Taking a deep breath, she left the relative privacy of the screen and, without even a glance toward the bed, went in search of the pins to fix her hair. Silly to feel as though getting her tresses back in order would help give her the fortitude necessary to leave, yet she did. Once she had her bun in place, Mrs. Rollins would come back, she was sure.
The pins were on the drafting table, where Sergio had left them, and she scooped them into her hand as he spoke.
“Sweet Jane.”
A shiver rippled along her spine at the deep, commanding tone. He was calling her back to his side, and, despite her instinctive urge to give in, she resisted.
“I have to get dressed, Sergio. I cannot afford to be late getting back. Mrs. Lowell is very strict about such things.”
“Come here.”
Swallowing convulsively, damning the way her body immediately heated and tightened, she shook her head.
“No. I can’t. I must—”
“You must come here,
cara mia
.”
Implacable, demanding her obedience, forcing her to turn and look at him, even as she fought not to give in.
He lay back against the headboard, the sheet tangled over his hips, his torso and one long, muscular leg exposed—bronze against the whiteness of the covers. With one arm bent behind his head, the other resting by his side, he was the picture of calm sanguinity, a portrait of such incredible beauty Jane gasped, her breath caught in her chest.
With a slow, precise gesture, he pulled back the sheet, until he was completely bare.
“I made you a promise, Jane. When I stood over you in your little sitting room and fucked your mouth, I told you the next time I would let you do whatever you desired with me. That promise hasn’t been fulfilled, and I want it to be now.”
As he spoke his cock, which had been flaccid, began to stir anew and Jane watched it thicken and darken, begin to rise from its nest of black curls. Saliva spurt into her mouth. Heat burgeoned in her belly, dripping into her cunt, spreading to her breasts, throat and face, and her legs trembled.
“I have to go back.”
But the words came out weak, a thin shield against the might of his control, which came at her like a battering ram.
“Not yet,
cara
.” He spread his thighs, the taut muscles bunching and flexing. “Not until you have taken what you want from me, and I have what I need from you.”
What do you need, Sergio?
The words hovered on her lips, but she bit them back, not wanting to hear him say all he wanted was another release, another chance to feel pleasure. Instead she would pretend it was
her
he needed. All of her, not just her body. And she would fool herself, this once, into imagining they were just like any other couple, with no impediments to being together. That when he lay spent in her arms, he would tell her of his undying devotion, his love for her, his wish for them to be together always. And, when he did, she would say she felt the same for him and would be his forever.
In this dream world of hers, there was no signora coming from Italy to be wed to him. No father who threatened to disown him if he didn’t go through with the marriage. No family for him to hold on to with all his considerable strength.
There was just him and her, and this incredible, joyous emotion flowing through her veins.
“Come,” he said, lifting his hand in one of his habitually graceful gestures, calling her to him. “Come, sweet Jane.
Sono tutto tuo
.”
Unresisting now, she moved to the edge of the bed and took his hand. “Tell me what you just said.”