A Touch of Silk (13 page)

“Your legs were the first thing I noticed about you. You know, on the plane to JFK.”

“Really?” She opened her eyes and peered at him in the flickering glow from the firelight.

“Uh-huh. What was the first thing you noticed about me?”

“The way you kept staring at my legs.”

“No kidding.”

“It wasn’t hard to miss. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your head.”

“I didn’t know you were paying any attention to me at all.”

“You’re a hard one to miss, Quinn Scofield.”

His hands were on her knees now and climbing higher. She felt herself swept away as if drugged by a magical potion and carried off into an X-rated fantasy land.

She and Quinn are Russian nobles traveling at high speed across the snowy landscape in their troika. Their thick fur wraps protect them from the harsh Siberian winter.

Suddenly highwaymen seize them, haul them from their sled.

“Strip,” the brigands demand, and in the bitter cold they peel off their garments. Now, they’re going to freeze to death, together, in the bitter cold.

But highwaymen are not completely merciless, even though they are laughing at their nakedness. Before they leave, the bandits toss down a fur rug.

They wrap the skin around them and stagger toward a wooden hut at the edge of the forest. He builds a fire, and she falls asleep in his arms.

She awakes to find him rubbing the fur between her legs. Suddenly he seizes her around the waist, flips her onto her belly and he takes her from behind, while his hand stimulates her from the front. As she sinks down into the throes of climax, she hears a snowstorm howling outside the hut and knows they will not be rescued for days.

“Let me in on your fantasy,” Quinn whispered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Kay’s eyes flew open and she blinked up at him. She realized his hand was on her upper thigh and so very close to the most dangerous part of her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kay, you’re no good at it.” He reached out a finger and lightly stroked her cheek. “You’re having an awesome sexual fantasy.”

“How do you know?” Her lip quivered. She was amazed at his powers of deduction. He seemed to know her most intimate thoughts.

“You’ve been holding your sexuality at bay for so long you’re bound to be brimming with fantasies. Tell me and we’ll reenact them.”

She hesitated. She’d never revealed her wildest sexual fantasies to anyone.

Was she brave enough to do this?

“Trust me,” he murmured. “Share. Let me go there with you.”

“Snowbound,” she murmured after a long moment. She was giving him the highest degree of trust she was capable of bestowing. “In the frozen Russian tundra. We’re rich nobles who’ve been stripped of all our wealthy trappings by bandits and left to die in a storm. But we have a fur coat, and we find a shack on the edge of the forest.”

“Hang on a minute.” He jumped up and disappeared down the hall. Shortly he returned carrying a plush sable coat, an open bottle of red wine and two glasses. “This coat belonged to my grandmother back before fur was politically incorrect.” He filled the glasses with wine, rested the bottle on the hearth, then spread the coat over the rug. “Lie down.”

Kay sank into the fur and gasped at the luxurious sensation. “Oh, my.”

“You know,” he said, “I’ve been going about this whole seduction the wrong way.”

“How so?” she purred and rubbed her body into the coat like a kitten curling up to its mother.

“I’ve been doing to you what I thought would make you responsive.”

“And you’ve been doing a damn fine job of it, too.”

He shook his head. “I was off base. You need to learn what turns you on, to learn to control your own body before you turn it over to me.” He sat down cross-legged beside her. “Let’s get that dress off.”

With incredible slowness that pushed her to the limits of endurance, he unbuttoned her dress and slipped it over her head. Her underwear was next. He unhooked her bra and tossed it into the corner. A second later her red satin thong followed. The fireplace gave off enough heat to warm her bare skin.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

She did as he asked.

He took it, guided her hand to her belly. “Touch yourself.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“While you watch?”

His gray eyes had turned stormy slate. “Yes.”

“I feel silly.”

“Stop that thought right now. You’re anything but silly. Have a sip of wine.” He held the glass to her lips. Obediently she raised her head and swallowed the tepid liquid. “Good girl. Now close your eyes and let your fingers do the walking. Pretend you’re alone. I’m not here.”

Hesitantly Kay traced her fingers over her breasts, amazed at how good it felt.

She was really embarrassed at first, but the more she let herself go, the more Quinn made appreciative noises. She loved hearing that she turned him on. She snuggled into the fur coat and tugged at her nipples. When she twisted gently, they came to life. A warm, wonderful tingling spread from her belly to her thighs. She followed the sensation with her hands.

She could hear Quinn’s breathing, and his raspy intake of air spurred her on. She caressed herself and slowly slid one finger into her folded flesh. This felt great, but lonely. She wanted to see Quinn. Opening her eyes, she was shocked and yet thrilled to find him naked and hard.

Quinn had never watched a woman pleasure herself, and it was driving him beyond insane. He’d done well to hold on this long.

“Help me,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this by myself.”

Yes! He surged toward her, came to rest beside her on the fur coat. He began by kissing her and took his time working his way down to her other pair of lips. When he ventured too close to her delicate cleft, she hissed in her breath.

Easy, he told himself, easy. That pretty pink cleft was a shy little devil. Gently he wet her with his mouth and when he pulled away, she moaned.

He retrieved the lubricants he’d bought for her, moistened his fingers with a smooth gel and rubbed them across her blood-engorged flesh. With the first two fingers of his right hand he carefully edged them apart.

Starting directly to the left of her pulsating cleft and inching clockwise, he brushed against her with fast, short, circular stokes, looking for the perfect combination that would rocket her to the moon.

So as not to abrade her tender membranes, he made sure her cleft stayed wet and slick by dipping his fingers into her warm recesses and drawing out a trail of love juices to rub over her burgeoning womanhood.

The small cleft changed as her arousal reached new heights. It swelled, grew harder and finally climbed eagerly from its hooded cave.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, “or ruin your arousal. Show me what feels good to you. Talk to me. Tell me.”

She brought her hand to his. He followed her lead, memorized her every move. It was the most intimate thing he’d ever indulged in with anyone.

“Oh, Quinn,” she breathed, and writhed beneath him. “Yes. Right there. Like that.”

His own arousal was beyond anything he’d ever felt before. Together they massaged and stroked and caressed her, both working in tandem to achieve the same goal. But after forty minutes, Kay still wasn’t anywhere near the summit. Maybe it was because she was too nervous about having him watch her.

Then he had an idea. It was something he’d heard once, supposedly a favorite sexual trick of Marilyn Monroe’s. It would solve the problem of Kay’s embarrassment and yet allow her to have full control over her own orgasm. It was worth a try. If it didn’t work, well…

Since their relationship had no foundation other than a physical one, Quinn didn’t even want to think about that. He would present her with what she so desperately craved. He would, he would, he would.

Kay whimpered in frustration. “I’m so close,” she moaned. “Why can’t I get there?”

“You will, baby,” he soothed. “You will. I promise. Keep stroking, I’ll be right back.”

Kay almost burst into tears the minute Quinn left the room. She had a feeling he was at his wit’s end. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. Everything he’d done for her felt so good. He’d treated her like a princess—she couldn’t let him down. If she had to, she’d fake the orgasm for his sake.

“Get off the coat,” he commanded.

She rolled over and looked up at him. He had a plastic tarp under one arm and a bottle of baby oil in his hand. His erection was still as big as the state of Alaska. He took the coat from the rug and tossed it on the couch. Then he spread the tarp across the rug.

“What’s going on?”

“Shh.” He began coating the front of her body in baby oil. “Now,” he said, when he’d finished, “you oil up my back.”

He lay facedown on the tarp. Puzzled, Kay took the bottle of heated oil and squirted some onto his back. He groaned deeply as she ran her hand along his naked torso, down his buttocks and legs until he was as wet with oil as she was. She loved the feel of his firm skin beneath her fingers.

“Now what?” she asked when she’d finished the task.

“Lie on top of me.”

This was a weird request. Feeling awkward, she lay down atop him, her breasts smashed flat against his shoulder blades.

“Your breasts feel like velvet,” he murmured.

“Your back is so muscular. Hard as a rock.” She breathed into his ear.

“I’m going to stay completely still. This is all you, babe. You’re at the helm. You’re in control.”

“But what do I do?”

“Slide your hands down my arms.”

She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she enjoyed feeling the wide expanse of his back beneath her, and she trusted him. She raised herself enough to lean forward, clasp her hands around his wrists and slip her arms down the length of his.

It felt like the time she went shooting over that Slip-and-Slide with the maid’s kids.

“That’s right. Keep touching, keep moving,” he coached. “Make love to my back. You’re looking for a certain spot. Go down a little.”

Spurred by the easy glide from the baby oil, she got into the rhythm, rode on the motion. She rocked her hips in slow, small circles pressing her pubic bone directly against his tailbone.

And then she found it. The spot on his body that was a perfect fit for her cleft to snuggle into. A nice, welcoming groove.

She let loose with a shout of glee and wriggled happily.

Nothing had ever felt so good. She kept rocking, stoking her own fire. Her aching cleft set the pace, as she rubbed it up and down, up and down his oil-soaked skin. Up and down and around and around. She surfed his body like a wahine cruising a curl off Oahu’s north shore.

“Quinn!” she cried, desperate to share her experience with the big, motionless man beneath her. “This feels phenomenal.”

“Go, baby, go. Get it anyway you can.”

“I’m getting so close. I can taste it rising up in my throat.”

She clasped her arms around his waist, squeezed him tight. His heart was pounding so loudly she could feel it vibrating throughout his whole body and up into hers.

“Glory!” he cried, startled at the extreme intimacy this unorthodox maneuver wrought. “I can feel every twitch you make, Kay.”

“Quinn, it’s happening. I’m coming.”

And then it hit her with the force of an oncoming freight train. Her entire body was engulfed in a hot, flushed, quaking release that started in her sensitive cleft but unfurled in a jerking starburst all the way to her toes.

She shuddered as wave after wave crashed into her. It was a force more powerful than an erupting volcano, more awe-inspiring than an ageless glacier. It was as if every dam in the country had broken at once, spewing torrents of wild water over the land. Seven days of sweet torture, years of hungry fantasies, a lifetime of repression burst forth from her.

At last! At long last!

Panting, she slid off Quinn’s back. He rolled over, tucked her into the curve of his arm and smiled down at her. “My only regret,” he whispered, “was not being able to see your face.”

She was dishrag limp and unable to speak for a good five minutes. When she finally caught her breath, all she could say was, “That was…incredible.”

In that fortuitous moment Quinn’s telephone rang.

He leaned in to kiss her. She raised her head.

The phone rang again.

“Are you going to answer that?” she murmured sleepily, his lips so close the air vibrated off his mouth back to hers as she spoke.

“Let the machine pick up.” He lightly ran his tongue over her upper lip.

By the time the machine intercepted the call, her arms were entwined around his neck, her legs around his waist, and their lips were fused.

“Quinn, this is your mother. Are you home? If you’re home, please pick up.”

“You better answer that,” Kay said into his mouth.

“Do I have to?”

“It might be important.”

Sighing, Quinn untangled Kay’s limbs and got to his feet. “I’m here, Ma,” he said, picking up the receiver and running a hand through his hair. His gaze slid over to his sexy Kay and he winked at her. “What’s up?”