Page 89 of Unforeseen Affairs
For he wanted to say far more than what had already been said, far more than he had known was in his heart.
Because…because why? His eyes had been so soft, so guileless when he’d begun to answer. His voice so assertive and steadfast. But then he swallowed his words and shut his eyes as if against an invisible pain. What pain? For what reason?
What had he meant to say, before catching himself?
Charlotte’s heart had been pounding from the minute he’d brought that chair into the steamy, tiled room. Desperate with wanting, but uncertain of how to accept him.What, she wondered for the hundredth time that day,might it be like, having a lover to service your every wish?
What might it be like, to have a handsome man think of you and only you? Calling you “darling” with his cock out, with you soaking wet and naked before him?
Something gave way within her, and she lowered her lashes and stared at the head of his prick, standing at attention just before her face. Ever so gently she took him in hand. It felt wonderful—hot and rigid, the skin so soft, the heft so satisfying against her palm as she pushed it up and pulled it down, testing its range of movement.
He made a strangled groaning sound the instant it touched her lips, and she knew she’d wrested the reins away from him once more. She teased it lightly, wondering at the taste. She wouldn’t call it pleasant, but feeling it against her tongue sent a surge of pleasure through her, so much that she rose up on her knees, sending even more water onto the floor.
And then she took him fully, wondering how much she could stand. Not the entire length, she realized with disappointment. But then he took her fingers and guided them to the base of it, allowing her to hold with her hand what she could not fit in her mouth.
She slid back, gripping his girth with her fist.
“Not that…” Colin said with a groan, “not that tight. And… move your hand as well.”
She said nothing, only adjusted her hold and her movement in response. When he whispered her name as he dug his fingers into her hair, she presumed she’d followed his instruction correctly. It was curious, but thrilling, doing something so sordid with him. Making him beg for his pleasure.
Charlotte decided she liked it very much.
“Darling, I… I cannot go much further,” he eventually managed to say through panting breaths, while yanking on her hair as if that would stay his spend.
Her excitement nearly boiled over, but she resisted the urge to go faster. That morning he’d loved her slowly, relishing every thrust inside her until he’d reached his climax.
Now he yelled, grabbing both sides of her head with his thick forearms. When the sharp, tangy heat of his release filled her mouth she immediately swallowed, taking it all down as it came.
He belonged to her.
Alice Pearce will never have him, she thought victoriously, if uncharitably. Alice Pearce would not be paid the same attentions, nor lavished with the same affection. And then another, more startling realization came to her: Was it the thought of a lover that she dwelled upon? Or of a husband? For she knew that if she did not marry him, someone else surely would.
Sir Colin Gearing was not a man to dally in matters of the heart.
Strangely, the thought did not fill her with dread as it once might have, were it of marriage to some nice and boring young man whom her father had dragged home to present to her. No, this was Colin,herColin, with his warm smile and curious eyes, his shared longing for horizons unknown. His face yielding when she made a request. His arms wrapping around her when she was cold.
No, the thought of marryinghimwas not unwelcome at all. And the thought of possessing him, hoarding his handsome jawline and wide shoulders as greedily as a dragon, was not unwelcome either.
But what overwhelmed her in the moment was the urgency of wanting him,needinghim to fill her now, to pet her and flatter her until she, too, found her release. And although it seemed potentially ill-advised, as she was still raw and swollen from that morning, she wanted him to spill his seed inside her again, hang what might happen. She was confident in her knowledge of her own body. She wanted to feel it, hot and slick upon her lips, dripping out of her and down her legs.
He was caressing her now, knotting her wet locks with his hands as his cock twitched in her mouth, emptying the last remnants of his spend. She gently removed her mouth from him and placed a fond kiss onto the head as it slipped out.
And then she lowered herself down into the water, a selkie retreating from her human lover, her mind awhirl.
“Charlotte.”
He was calling her.
She turned about in the water. It was tepid now.
“Charlotte,” he tried again.
She heard him move about the room, and for a heart-rending moment she thought he might have left. But then he spoke again, his voice just as near, cooing in soft tones.
“Darling, please… stand up. Allow me to love you.”
Love. What did she know of love, truly? And yet her heart leaped at the sound of the word on his lips.
