When I'm With You: The Complete Novel (17 page)

When I'm With You

Part III

When You Tease Me

Beth Kery

I
NTER
M
IX
B
OOKS
, N
EW
Y
ORK

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

WHEN YOU TEASE ME

An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBLISHING HISTORY

InterMix eBook edition / March 2013

When I'm With You
copyright © 2013 by Beth Kery.

Excerpt from
Addicted to You
copyright © 2011 by Beth Kery.

Cover design by Sarah Oberrender.

Photo: Bottle of perfume © Evgeny Dubinchuk/Shutterstock.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 978-1-101-61660-4

INTERMIX

InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group

and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

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INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Chapter Five

The feeling of her small hand sliding along his cock through his pants made his entire body coil tight with lust. He hadn't realized until that moment when she teased him with a touch that was both knowledgeable and hesitant at once—he would have said
shy
, but that term couldn't apply to Elise—how much lust he'd been trapping inside muscle, blood, and bone. Her touch liberated it. It roared in his veins, until even if Ian Noble had walked into the room at that very moment and accused him of some heinous crime, Lucien couldn't have stopped. Not while Elise's flavor lingered on this tongue.

His fingers sunk into her hair, thrilling to the silky feeling of the cool, loose waves caressing his skin, his breath stinging in his lungs as she unfastened his pants. He stroked the warm satin of her cheek and clamped his eyes shut at the sensation of her hand enclosing his shaft a moment later. Surely she didn't tremble? Then she stroked his naked flesh, and her caress was sure. Expert. He saw red behind his eyelids. His hand transferred to her shoulder, the thin material of her dress allowing him to feel her delicate bone structure and the heat of her skin. She flicked her fingers at the rim beneath the head of his cock—quick, concise. She wrapped her small hand around his girth and whimpered. The combination ripped through him like a blade. His cock lurched viciously.

He urged her downward. She sunk before him like a silent dream come true in the darkness.

She placed her hands on his thighs to steady herself. He cupped his balls in his hands, lifting them slightly and wincing in acute arousal, before he slid his hand below his shaft, lifting himself out of his clothing until he felt her warm breath mist the sensitive head. For a split second, neither of them moved, but he felt her focus on him, shared her tension.

Her warm, parted lips caressed him, making him shudder. She slid him into her warm, humid depths, her mouth eye-crossingly precise.

“Elise,” he muttered roughly. He furrowed his fingers into her hair, spreading them until he palmed the back of her head. She bathed the straining head—such a ready, nimble tongue—and cupped his balls before she sucked him farther into her mouth. Her low purr of satisfaction vibrated into his flesh, making him hiss in pleasure. She gently molded his testicles to her palm and urged him with her touch and suck. Her clamping lips moved like a piston at midstaff, taking him deeper slowly . . . surely, sliding farther and farther down his shaft.

He wished to God he could watch her but was just as fervently thankful he couldn't. He recalled that brief flash of her sucking Hugh Langier so expertly and knew the vision of her doing the same to him would pull his trigger . . . end this nirvanic moment long before he was ready.

No, he wouldn't think about Langier now. Elise was all his for this stolen moment in the darkness. He wouldn't share her, not even with a memory.

She slid him along her tongue until he felt the muscular, rigid ring of her throat enclose the tip of his cock. His groan raked at his larynx, his fingers tightened on her skull. Suddenly she was ducking back and forth, treating him to a series of tight, fluid, rapid strokes. His eyes sprang wide. She took him farther this time, deeper, her palpable eagerness making him clench his teeth in raw lust. She gagged when he entered her throat, but immediately controlled the reflex, keeping him lodged deep.

He made a choking sound and slid out of her throat. Damn her, the little hellion . . .
always
pushing . . .
always
testing.

“Keep still,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than he'd intended due to splintering restraint. He tightened his hold on her skull, preventing her from ducking her head forward when she tried. He slid the fingers of his other hand through her hair, immobilizing her when she tried to take him deeper. She whimpered, and he grimaced at the erotic sensation vibrating along his shaft.

He had given in to his desire for her, but she would
not
rule him in this. “I will control the movements until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”

Her tongue flicked along the underside of his shaft. He tightened his hold on her head. “You little tease,” he muttered. He flexed his hips and fucked her tightly clamped lips for several delicious moments. Ah yes, this was what he needed: to gain supremacy over this clawing need, to give in to his lust at his own rate and preference. She hummed in pleasure, and he paused, gritting his teeth.

“I didn't tell you to hum, did I?” he challenged quietly.

For a moment, she didn't move, but then she twisted her chin from left to right, bringing his cock with her.

He was glad she couldn't see his small smile. She was exquisite. It was going to be such sweet agony to tame her. He began to pulse between her lips again while she sucked, sending spikes of sharp pleasure up his spine. “
Now
I'm telling you to,
ma fifille
,” he said. “Hum for me.”

She groaned along his shaft, and then softened to a satisfied purr as he flexed his hips, using her mouth for his pleasure. God, it felt good. Her fingertips moved along his hips. The waistband of his boxer briefs had stretched down over part of his ass. The sensation of her fingers sliding beneath the band and stroking his flexing buttocks nearly made him come then and there. Something about her stroking his ass so gently as he pumped with force struck him as potently erotic. He couldn't survive much longer in the midst of this taut, electric bliss.

“Use your hand,” he instructed, lust ruling his tongue now, not reason. Her small, strong fist pumping the base of his cock while he fucked her mouth was a sinful heaven a man could survive in only for so long. “You little witch,” he accused fondly, the words blistering his tongue as he gave himself to her. He flexed, once again feeling the exquisite sensation of her throat enclosing his cock. She flinched and he started to withdraw, but then she recovered and took him impossibly deeper.

“Yes,”
he said in a strangled voice, feeling the tickle in his balls that signaled the end of this delicious torture. Then she was sucking him fast and shallow, her fist pumping in a perfect counter-rhythm, the sounds of a full-out pump—wet flesh moving tautly against wet flesh—ringing in his ears.

He thrust deep and held her steady as orgasm ripped through his flesh. Everything went black and dead silent for a moment. Somehow, he found the wherewithal not to roar.

He hoped anyway.

That must have been his low, guttural groan that pierced the bubble of his torrential pleasure.

He withdrew, sliding along her tongue. He continued to come, and come, the strength of his climax stunning him. Distantly, he became aware of the sucking movements and sounds of her mouth on his cock, of her fingertips caressing his ass tenderly while her other hand cupped his balls, milking him for all he was worth.

He sagged, gasping for air, clamping his eyes shut as her warm mouth continued to move, cleaning him, teasing him . . . arousing him all over again.

A light switched on in the hallway, illuminating a tiny crack beneath the closed door. His caressing fingers stilled in Elise's hair. Perhaps she felt his sudden tension, because the pulsing, sucking movements of her mouth ceased.

“Ian?” he heard Francesca say in the distance. Elise's lips moved against him, his penis remaining firmly in her taut hold. After a moment, the light switched out.

The reality of what had occurred struck him like a blow: where they were, what had just happened. It wasn't what he'd planned. Not in the slightest.

He slid his overly sensitive cock out of Elise's warmth, wincing in regret.

“Come here,” he said quietly, his hands on her shoulders. He helped her to her feet. His fingertips caressed the smooth, dewy skin of her cheeks. He felt her heat and knew she was aroused. Again, regret flicked through him.

“I don't think they've noticed us missing yet,” he said, hastily refastening his pants.

“Lucien—”

“Later,” he said, his voice tense with unspoken words. The ringing silence was a remonstrance. She deserved more than that. He stepped toward her and took her into his arms. She felt small and warm and very feminine pressed against him. He kissed her, once on each warm cheek, then on her nectar-sweet mouth. His musk lingered on her tongue, the unique combination of their flavors compelling . . . drawing him deeper.

“You gave me great pleasure,” he murmured honestly a moment later.

“I'm glad.”

He paused for a moment, his mouth open, undone by her sweet, simple reply. His head lowered to kiss her deeper, and damn the circumstances.

In the distance, he heard a door close and froze. He found her hand and enclosed it in his own before he reached for the door.

“I'll take you to the bathroom so you can freshen up. Give it several minutes, then go back up to the terrace and rejoin the party until we can make a graceful exit.”

The muted light from the hallway allowed him to see her golden beauty flushed with arousal . . . her puffy, reddened lips. A muttered curse blistered his tongue. Her dark blue eyes looked huge and glazed with desire. She looked stunning, radiating pure sex appeal. There would be those at the party who'd put two and two together and know she'd been sucking cock with that beautiful mouth.

* * *

“I'll bring some ice to the bathroom,” Lucien muttered quietly, firming his hold on her hand and leading her down the hallway.

“Why?” she asked dazedly. Her brain was foggy. Bringing Lucien pleasure had left her lust-drunk. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to climb all over him.
Right now
. He opened a door and she distantly realized it led to a powder room.

She stilled when he touched her lips. “Because some bastard has been abusing your gorgeous mouth, that's why. The ice will bring down the swelling a bit.”

She shivered at his touch and sexy tone. “Ten lashes to the perpetrator.”

“Twenty to the victim,” he countered quickly.

Her brows shot up in curiosity and interest. His gaze grew fierce.

He started to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. She purred with pleasure a moment later when she pulled him down to her, and he covered her mouth with his, his rough moan a blessing.

Yes.
She had him now.

“Forget the ice,” she whispered seductively next to his lips a moment later. “Let's go to your place.”

His gaze ran over her face. She felt his body stir and triumph soared through her. “It is what I plan, Elise. But later. I should try and smooth things over with Ian and Francesca, and we need to say our good-byes.”

“Francesca and Ian are grown-ups. They know these things can happen. We'll apologize tomorrow.”

“Just give it a few minutes. We'll go soon.”

She arched her back and pressed her mons against his belly. “No,
now
.”

His nostrils flared as he stared down at her. She felt his body respond. Her heart dipped when he blinked and looked away. She sensed the spell was broken.

“My rules, Elise. Be patient,” he said gruffly, kissing her cheek with lingering lips and leaving her arms.

“Do not walk away from me again, Lucien,” she warned. God, she didn't think she could stand making herself vulnerable to him yet again and having him turn his back on her. Didn't he realize how much she desired him? Didn't he know now that Elise Martin had finally found the man to whom she was willing to risk it all sexually, he was supposed to fall in line and behave precisely as she imagined he should? Yes, that sounded selfish, but
damn
it. Was it really that much of a stretch to think he would be as impetuous and bowled over by lust as she was? Why was Lucien always so contradictory?

“I'm not walking away from you for good. This isn't easy for me, either. Don't be so melodramatic, Elise.”

She stiffened. Is that what he thought? That her eagerness for him was silly? Hysterical? Childlike? Hurt gripped at her entire body.

“Elise—,” she heard him say.

But he was talking to a closed door.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Lucien stood next to Ian and Francesca at the terrace bar, careful to keep his gaze from wandering toward the entrance to the penthouse. No one had made a big deal about his and Elise's earlier absence, either having not noticed or being too polite to comment about it. Ian likely had observed, but knowing his friend, he assumed it related to sexual games that were none of his business versus being something to remark upon.

No great
obvious
harm had occurred with his hosts, but why was Elise taking so long in returning? He was starting to get worried. He hadn't meant to hurt her. If he'd been able to resist her in the seductive embrace of secretive darkness, this would never have happened.

Someone had altered the music selection to a more mellow pop mix. The dancing had ceased. Things felt flat with Elise missing. She'd always been the effervescence to a social gathering, the spice. The flickering flame. Perhaps her spoiled mother had noticed that from a young age, and started requesting her only daughter be excluded from dinner parties and other gatherings, Lucien mused. Madeline Martin did not enjoy competition.

He, Ian, and Francesca remained in comfortable silence, Francesca in the curve of Ian's arm, Lucien leaning against the bar. When Ian glanced up and noticed Lucien studying his face for signs of how he was reacting to that phone call earlier, Lucien casually took a sip of his drink. As usual, Ian kept his emotions well hidden. He wanted to ask if everything was all right, but resisted. He couldn't tip his hand.

He watched as both Caden and Justin again glanced toward the stairwell that led to the penthouse, their disappointed expressions informing him better than anything that Elise was nowhere to be seen.

“Elise is Louis Martin's daughter, isn't she?”

Lucien remained outwardly calm, even though his heart began thundering at Ian's unexpected question. It shouldn't have surprised him that Ian knew precisely who Elise was. Ian made it his business to know anything that concerned him, even remotely.