Desire Me More

For Scott . . .

London, 1881

A
melia Somerset stretched out her arms only to find the immoveable force that was Nick lying next to her. Stifling a yawn, she spread her hands over his chest, molding every dip and plane of his body.
What a deliciously wicked way to wake up in the morning
.

Careful not to wake him, Amelia rolled away and grabbed Nick's pocket watch that had been set on her bedside table. Flipping it open, she was pleased to see that it was still early enough that she didn't have to get ready for the day but late enough to rouse Nick from his slumber. A grin tilted up her lips.

She knew that what they did wasn't something polite society would welcome. Women of any standing didn't carry on the way she and Nick were without the sanctity of marriage. She was also sure their intercourse wasn't precisely typical, or at least she never had imagined how many ways she could enjoy her lover. None of that seemed to matter since she was in love with Nick. Without him in her life, she was sure she would have found the past few weeks unbearable.

The man lying next to her had introduced her to an entirely new way of life and love, shown her things she never thought to see. Made her do things that had her blushing just thinking about them now.

Even though he had opened up her mind and her heart to a multitude of feelings she never thought she'd have for another, she was essentially his mistress.

His mistress . . . and his secretary.

Though she hoped no one yet guessed about the first.

She trailed her hand over his warm body, skimming his right bicep with just the tips of her fingers, making sure to trace every line of muscle as she explored him more thoroughly than she'd ever had the chance to do.

She could do this all day, but they only had an hour before he'd have to sneak back into his room and pretend they hadn't spent the night in delicious sin.

As she grew more daring, her hand lowered to his naval, her fingers circling his toned stomach. Should she caution her actions? Wake him up and get started on the one hundred and one duties that awaited them, or . . .

Or trail her fingers lower.

Curiosity decided her next course.

With a flick of her hand, she tossed the blanket off his chest and stared in awe at the perfection of his naked body. She loved the fact that he slept
au naturel,
as he was a sight to behold. Her gaze slid lower to see that he was aroused, and the sight had wetness slicking her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, wishing Nick's hand was buried there to ease the need building inside her.

Amelia brushed her fingers against his long, firm manhood. She could make out the dark vein running down the center of his shaft. The skin around the head was pulled back and the plum-colored head of his penis pointed right at her. Almost begging her to take it in her mouth.

His member moved, growing impossibly thicker as semen beaded at the tip. The sight fascinated her. Drew her closer. She had a sudden desire to touch that creamy drop of fluid . . . feel him like he often felt her. Taste him. She'd had the head of his penis in her mouth before, but she hadn't really known how to pleasure him.

Could she do so now?

Perhaps she could just lick him as he had licked through the folds of her sex. Would that draw more fluid from him?

Glancing up at Nick, she saw his eyes were closed, his breathing even. Turning her focus back to his penis, she lowered her hand enough to touch the wetness that had gathered at the tip. Her breath caught in her throat when his member jerked. She brushed her fingers against it again. Feeling more daring, she curled her hand around the head and squeezed it ever so slightly. Doing this excited her so much, she thought her heart might be pounding loudly enough to awaken him.

Suddenly, Nick wrapped his hand around hers. Her face burned with shame at being caught touching him while he was unaware, but under that shame there was a deep-seated desire, ready to be unleashed.

“You are awake,” she said and loosened her hand, though it had nowhere to go with his grip tightening.

“Have been for a while.” His voice was low and seductive, and a shiver of understanding shot straight to her core. He wanted to see how far she was willing to go.

Nick guided her hand low enough to cover the root just above his sac. He was so thick, her fingers barely curled around the base of him.

“Pull the skin forward and back.” Nick's voice was hoarse.

He showed her how to increase the pressure of her hold. Watching him like this was strangely beautiful, raw, and without pretense. It was about the two of them pleasing each other and seeking their own pleasure, both at the same time. And it was about him giving in to her curiosity.

When she turned her face up to look at him, his eyes were heavy-lidded and lazily focused on her. Her heart skipped a beat and goose bumps rose along her arms. How could he undo her with one look?

He didn't release her from his gaze. He stared at her as though plotting to do very wicked things—and as if he would devour her any second.

She never wanted to get out of bed. She wanted to stay here until neither of them could move or talk and were too sore to even walk.

His breathing grew erratic as her hand stroked his hard length. She liked that he was letting his guard down, letting her see what her touch did to him. She grasped him tighter when his hand encouraged it.

Nick flipped her on her back and hovered over her before she could bring him to completion.

“How do you do this to me?” she asked, breathless.

He did not answer; his gaze locked on hers, his body hard and hot everywhere it pressed into hers. Absently, she stroked his arm, feeling the flex of muscle and the power he held just under the surface. She wanted to scratch her nails along his skin as he entered her but felt suddenly shy.

He leaned in and swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her deeply. Her body grew heated and needy in a matter of seconds. She wanted him inside her, so in silent plea for more, she spread her legs as wide as her night rail would allow. She tilted her pelvis up, grinding herself against his thigh, trying to find some sort of release.

Nick pushed the material up and out of the way. He had her night rail off before she could offer to help. Her hands molding to the scars that crisscrossed his beautiful back. Every time she touched them she wanted to ask what had happened, who had hurt him, but the words stuck in her throat.

Nick held her hands above her head; then he positioned his body between her legs and worked his rigid penis inside her. Her whole body trembled with relief as he filled her, inch by tortuous inch.

When she tested his hold on her hands, he said, “Move them, and I'll tie you to the bed.”

She bit her bottom lip. She almost wanted to dare him. Almost. Instead, she squeezed her thighs around his hips as he pulled out halfway before sliding back into her with a force that shook the bed frame.

Amelia arched her back off the bed, desperate to be closer, to feel him as deep as he could possibly go. Nick stilled once he was fully seated, his hand caressing the side of her face, brushing his fingers through the strands of hair that had come loose from her braid.

Mouth balanced above hers, his tongue swept gently across hers in a seductive dance with which she wanted to keep pace all day. But their morning would eventually end, and she'd make the most of the time they did have. Later, she'd think about the situation in which she kept placing herself and find the courage to ask him what he planned for them in the future.

Nick squeezed one of her nipples between his fingers, the pleasure drawing her attention away from her worries as she focused solely on him.

“I'm apparently not keeping you well enough occupied,” he growled.

“It is thoughts of you tangling up my mind.”

She kissed his chin and then his neck. Her tongue flicked along his pulse line before she settled against the mattress again.

“Then I will work harder to distract you from coherent thought.” He pulled out of her and flipped her onto her knees. “Hold on to the top of the headboard.”

Amelia curled her fingers around the cold metal frame. She waited in anticipation for him to slide back inside her. Instead, he kissed her shoulder, lightly at first, then open-mouthed. His teeth bit carefully into her. Amelia's nipples peaked harder and harder with every scrape of his teeth. His hands ran up and down the sides of her ribs, skimming the undersides of her breasts with every pass.

“Nick . . . ” She was panting, breathless from the way he teased her with so simple a touch.

Nick's chest brushed against her back, and the thick hardness of his penis lay demandingly against her backside.

“Hmmm.” He moaned, as though she were a tasty treat.

Her head fell back, resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. “I need you,” she said.

“You have me.”

“Please.”

His hands smoothed over her ribs and waist. “Let me hear the words, Amelia.”

“Touch me.” She pressed her bottom against him. “I need your touch.”

“Tell me where you need me.” His hand tickled a seductive path over her hip. It was the barest of caresses as he slid that hand around to her stomach. Too low to touch her aching breasts and tweak with her nipples; too high to spread the juices flowing from her sex. “Or maybe you need me here?” His other hand slid over the front of one thigh and then into the vee of her legs but out of reach of her mound. She squeezed her legs together, wanting to hold him there. Wanting him to touch her more intimately and with more force.

Her breath caught as trembling sensations of arousal snaked through her, warming her and heightening every nerve ending in her body.

“Nick. Please . . . ”

His hand wrenched her legs apart. A cool wash of air brushed over her wet thighs and had her moaning until finally—finally—he touched her clitoris. But the caress was nothing more than a fleeting tease . . . and not nearly enough. She thought she'd faint if he didn't touch her harder and fill her sheath.

“I want you inside me,” she bravely said. “I need you, Nick. Don't deny me this.”

“About time you asked,” he growled in her ear before sucking her earlobe into his mouth.

Removing his hand from between her legs, he fisted it around his cock and pressed it to her entrance. His groan at the first touch of her wetness fueled her need to have him filling her.

One of his hands gripped the headboard beside her hand as he pressed forward. They both lost themselves in their joining, his chest hair abrading her back with the friction of their bodies as they grew slick with sweat.

His free hand squeezed her breast, and he rolled her nipple between his fingers, heightening her pleasure with the furious propulsion of his body in hers. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out her pleasure, even though the racket they made could surely be heard by anyone on this floor of the house.

Lips hot against her neck, fingers still tweaking her nipples, he overloaded her with sensation, with feeling. Nick surrounded her, filled her, stamped himself on her.

Nick owned her.

Hand lowering, he flicked his finger over her sensitive clitoris, and she could no longer bite back the sounds she'd been holding at bay.

Giving her clit the same treatment he'd given her nipple, he squeezed it between his fingers, letting her grind against his hand as he worked himself inside her.

“Nick,” she practically screamed. Her thighs were so slick, so wet, that her juices sluiced a wet path down her legs.

“I could fuck you like this all day,” Nick growled in her ear.

She didn't know how to respond, other than to moan his name. Words were beyond her.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you.” It wasn't a question. He knew that was exactly what she wanted.

How could one person have so much control over her? How could this man hold the reins of her heart so tightly that she would go anywhere he steered her and do anything he asked?

His words did nothing but inflame her desire further. Her body pushed back against his, needing more yet needing exactly what he was giving her.

“One of these days I'm going to show you what it truly means to be mine.”

She shook her head, not able to think his words through. “I don't understand.”

“You will . . . soon.”

He grabbed both her hips and pumped into her so hard that the bed frame groaned and creaked with every one of their motions. They would be found out for sure. And while that should concern her, all she did was grasp on tighter, ensuring her hold wouldn't slip and that she stayed exactly where she was so Nick's penis hit her just the right way.

“I want you to come. I know how close you are.” He punctuated every word with the movement of their bodies.

He grasped her braid in one hand and yanked it back, exposing her throat to his wicked mouth. “Come for me,” he said, licking the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

His legs were between hers, spreading them wide enough that she was sitting atop his lap.

She could feel the slap of his testicles every time she bounced off his lap. And before long, she did scream out. Her orgasm exploded through her. Her sheath gripped his cock so tightly that she felt every ridge of his hardness stroking in and out of her.

With a roar, Nick said, “Fuck.”

With a final stroke his seed shot deep inside her, the semen pulsing out of him in a never-ending stream. The slick wetness between them only added to the friction of the short hairs on his sac rubbing and assaulting her clitoris, and she felt herself go off again. Her head fell forward to rest on the frame of the bed as she rotated in tight circles around his shaft, milking every bit of him as her body rode out her climax. Her breasts heaved with the violent breaths she took in and blew out. It was like she'd run a mile, and this was her first chance to pull air into her starved and deprived lungs.