I couldn’t suppress the fears hovering at the edges of my mind, but he read me, as he always did, and he leaned forward to peer into my eyes. “Precious wildcat,” he whispered. “Quiet your jealousy, quiet your fear. You are safe with me. You are loved with me.”
And then he effortlessly moved me on top of his lap, hitching up my skirts until my waist was surrounded by silk and my bare sex was flat against his trousers. Despite everything—the words and Brightmore and his admission that he had once heeded her directions regarding his marriage—despite all that, heat flared in my core. He buried his face in my neck, nipping and sucking at every available inch of skin, his teeth a delicate torture along my collarbone.
Once again, I couldn’t help myself; I started grinding against him, feeling his stiff length under the fabric.
He looked down. “I wish you could see what I see,” he said in a low voice. “Your pussy moving against me, so desperate. So needy.”
I rubbed harder and faster, feeling the tension building inside me, twining and twining until I thought every muscle and nerve would snap. I threw my head back, feeling it surging—only to have Mr. Markham grab me by the hips and hold me up. Empty air ru
shed between him and me, cool and unforgiving, and I writhed in his grasp, trying to force myself down.
“Let me come,” I pleaded, our conversation now completely gone from my mind.
He grinned. “Absolutely not.”
“Please!”
He held me there, mercilessly, cruelly, until several minutes had passed and my body began to unwind. But my cunt pulsed more than ever, heavy between my legs, and my nipples beaded painfully under my corset.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Terrible,” I told him bluntly.
He laughed.
“It’s not funny,” I said, a little miffed and more than a little agonized. “I don’t think this game is fun at all.”
His face turned serious. “This isn’t a game, Ivy. It’s supposed to be more than fun.”
“I thought—”
“You and me, we are more than playmates,” he said, one hand letting go of me. He unfastened his trousers, exposing his erection. My body pulsed in response, every cell straining to touch him. He took himself in his hand and began rubbing the head of his cock against my sex. I gasped at the feel. He was like steel sheathed in satin—silky maleness, hard and wide.
I began to wriggle against him, urgent to impale myself on that sublime organ, and to my surprise, he let me. He let me notch the head of his cock into my pussy and he held himself upright as I slid down, crying out with bliss as I did. I finally sank to the root, my clit pressed against him, but again his hands were on my hips, buried in the silk skirts, keeping me from moving.
But a muscle in his jaw ticked, and I could see that it took an enormous amount of restraint on his part to keep me from riding him.
“We are more than playmates,” he repeated. “What do you feel when I’m inside you?”
“Like I want you to fuck me until I’m beyond my senses.”
A faint smile. “Think harder than that. Probe your feelings further.”
I wanted to weep with the need to move. He stretched me, filled me, and my whole body sang for him, but it wasn’t enough. “I feel…full. Complete. But I want more. More of you, like no matter what we do, we’ll never be close enough.”
His voice was husky. “Keep going.”
I could barely catch my breath, my need for friction was so strong. “I feel like you and I are one person, one soul split into two bodies, and when we’re joined like this, it almost feels like that spirit is whole again.”
“Yes,” he told me. “We were meant to be together. You were born to be Ivy Markham. I was born to love you. When I’m deep inside you, I feel my heart beat in tandem with yours. Can you feel it?”
I could. I could feel my body keening for him, canting toward him, as if he were the only warmth in a frozen land. The only music in a soundless void. And when our bodies were connected—
“Yes,” I breathed. “I feel it.”
“So when I tease you, when I deprive you, all I’m doing is reminding your body—your soul—that it needs mine. And as you yearn, you will know that I am being reminded too. That even when we are not joined, we still are, on a deeper level.” His mouth softened, warmth suffusing the lines of his face. “Do you understand now?”
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. I blinked and a single tear traced down my cheek. He leaned forward—shifting himself deliciously inside me—and kissed it.
