different kind of heat.
“Is it too much? Shall I pull out?” he asked, nuzzling her neck with his mouth.
She clenched her legs around him, feeling the sensations intensify in the most pleasurable way. “No, please don’t.”
He lifted his head to look at her, his blue eyes as sharp as lightning bolts.
“Then how about this?” He pulled himself partially out of her and then pushed back in, and she moaned. “Enjoy the feel of my cock, for it has no other reason to exist at this moment except to worship and pleasure you.” He grasped her buttocks in his hands and drove into her again, this time more firmly, his hard root striking against her sensitive nub. The sensation was unexpected and exquisite, and she cried out.
“Matthew, oh…”
“You wanted it, now take it all, every hard inch,” he ordered, stroking her again and again until she was beyond rational thought, her body writhing mindlessly against his erection.
She felt herself drawing closer to the edge, and he kissed her deeply, his hips continuing their rhythmic tattoo against hers. When he reached his hand around and ran his finger down the cleft of her bottom, the sensations overwhelmed her at last, and she screamed out her release. He was not far behind her, and she felt his body tense.
“Yes, oh yes,” he cried, pulling himself from her body as a white liquid poured onto her stomach. When he had spilled his last drop, he curled her body into his and laid his head against hers, his breathing harsh.
She couldn’t move as the pleasure reverberated through her body.
After several moments, he stirred, rising from the bed. She heard him rustling around, and he returned with a dampened towel from her basin to wipe the evidence of his passion from her body.
“Are you all right, then, Laurence?” she heard him say. “Do you think we suit?”
She opened her eyes to meet his smiling gaze.
“I am much better than all right. So much better.”
It was the truth. After a lifetime of lies, how good it felt to tell it.
“I think we might suit.”
Chapter Nine
Afterward, they lay together, and with her head against his chest, she shared everything. About her mother, her uncle who was really her father, and the lie that had begun on the very first day of her life. He asked many questions, and she held nothing back. The story had been bottled within her for so long it felt good to finally speak aloud about what she had never said before, to confide secrets she had never trusted to anyone. After what felt like forever, they both fell silent, her head against his chest listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.
“I cannot understand how your mother could do such a thing,” he said at last.
“She had no family and no money and felt herself fortunate to be the mistress of a wealthy man. Her role, as she saw it, was to give him whatever he wanted so he would take care of her. That is what she did.”
“To sacrifice you in that way—” he began, but she stopped him.
“What sacrifice was it to live in a fine house, attend the best schools, and receive training to work in a profession that I love? Would I have been better off as the daughter of a woman in a bawdy house? Or working as a maid? All for the dubious pleasure of wearing skirts?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You misinterpret my words.”
“I don’t want your pity,” she shot back. “That is not why I told you my story.”
“Then why have you confided in me? What do I have to offer you?” he asked.
“Having you here…” Her voice trailed off. “I had not realized how empty my life was until you came.”
“I am someone to keep you company, then. A sort of companion.” He didn’t sound pleased.
She sat up on the bed and looked down at him. How odd that there was a man in her room, lying there unclothed among her things. Even in the candlelight, the darkness of his hair stood in sharp contrast to the white fabric of her bed sheets. If she had
“Is it too much? Shall I pull out?” he asked, nuzzling her neck with his mouth.
She clenched her legs around him, feeling the sensations intensify in the most pleasurable way. “No, please don’t.”
He lifted his head to look at her, his blue eyes as sharp as lightning bolts.
“Then how about this?” He pulled himself partially out of her and then pushed back in, and she moaned. “Enjoy the feel of my cock, for it has no other reason to exist at this moment except to worship and pleasure you.” He grasped her buttocks in his hands and drove into her again, this time more firmly, his hard root striking against her sensitive nub. The sensation was unexpected and exquisite, and she cried out.
“Matthew, oh…”
“You wanted it, now take it all, every hard inch,” he ordered, stroking her again and again until she was beyond rational thought, her body writhing mindlessly against his erection.
She felt herself drawing closer to the edge, and he kissed her deeply, his hips continuing their rhythmic tattoo against hers. When he reached his hand around and ran his finger down the cleft of her bottom, the sensations overwhelmed her at last, and she screamed out her release. He was not far behind her, and she felt his body tense.
“Yes, oh yes,” he cried, pulling himself from her body as a white liquid poured onto her stomach. When he had spilled his last drop, he curled her body into his and laid his head against hers, his breathing harsh.
She couldn’t move as the pleasure reverberated through her body.
After several moments, he stirred, rising from the bed. She heard him rustling around, and he returned with a dampened towel from her basin to wipe the evidence of his passion from her body.
“Are you all right, then, Laurence?” she heard him say. “Do you think we suit?”
She opened her eyes to meet his smiling gaze.
“I am much better than all right. So much better.”
It was the truth. After a lifetime of lies, how good it felt to tell it.
“I think we might suit.”
Chapter Nine
Afterward, they lay together, and with her head against his chest, she shared everything. About her mother, her uncle who was really her father, and the lie that had begun on the very first day of her life. He asked many questions, and she held nothing back. The story had been bottled within her for so long it felt good to finally speak aloud about what she had never said before, to confide secrets she had never trusted to anyone. After what felt like forever, they both fell silent, her head against his chest listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.
“I cannot understand how your mother could do such a thing,” he said at last.
“She had no family and no money and felt herself fortunate to be the mistress of a wealthy man. Her role, as she saw it, was to give him whatever he wanted so he would take care of her. That is what she did.”
“To sacrifice you in that way—” he began, but she stopped him.
“What sacrifice was it to live in a fine house, attend the best schools, and receive training to work in a profession that I love? Would I have been better off as the daughter of a woman in a bawdy house? Or working as a maid? All for the dubious pleasure of wearing skirts?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You misinterpret my words.”
“I don’t want your pity,” she shot back. “That is not why I told you my story.”
“Then why have you confided in me? What do I have to offer you?” he asked.
“Having you here…” Her voice trailed off. “I had not realized how empty my life was until you came.”
“I am someone to keep you company, then. A sort of companion.” He didn’t sound pleased.
She sat up on the bed and looked down at him. How odd that there was a man in her room, lying there unclothed among her things. Even in the candlelight, the darkness of his hair stood in sharp contrast to the white fabric of her bed sheets. If she had
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