Out Of Her League, An Erotic Romance (13 page)

Her orgasm was fast and hard and furious. Her release felt infinite, a shuddering rapture that left her gasping and weak. James filled her with his cum, then caught her as she fell into his arms, deliriously content.

James shifted in his carriage seat across from Kate. It had been a miserable May, all dreary and damp. But as the month drew to a close the weather did an abrupt turnabout. The rain finally departed, leaving behind an azure sky and a delicious warmth. Judging from the congestion in the streets, it seemed as though all of London had ventured out of doors to enjoy the rare brilliance of the day.

Like most Londoners, James was not immune to complaining about the appalling condition of the roads. As his carriage swayed from ditch to pothole and back again, he made a mental note to have William tighten the springs on the conveyance. No sooner had that thought formed than he reversed his decision, for as the vehicle rumbled through traffic he had the distinct pleasure of watching Kate’s lovely breasts bounce ever-so-slightly.

It was beyond absurd, he thought. He couldn’t even watch the woman ride in a carriage without his thoughts turning puerile. As they jostled along he was intently aware of every move she made, from the seductive sway of her hips as he’d assisted her into the barouche, to the momentary brush of her thighs against his as she’d settled into her seat.

He noted the way her eyes danced as she gazed out at the passing streetscape, as though their short journey from St. Thomas Hospital to his home was a grand adventure, and not a trip through crowded, congested streets.

One week had passed since he’d begun his daily afternoon journey to the hospital. He had yet to meet Kate’s brothers, a fact that bothered him more than he cared to admit. Nor had he told her about his forthcoming position with the War Office.

Had she known he would be leaving England she might have wanted to bring their affair to a conclusion, and he simply couldn’t imagine letting her go. Not yet. The mere thought of it made him uncomfortable on a level he wasn't ready to explore.

He pushed the troubling thoughts away. It was a fine day, and he was determined to keep the mood light. He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched out his legs so that his ankles rested on Kate’s bench. He tapped one booted toe against the gaily wrapped box beside her. “Aren’t you going to ask me what’s inside?”

She looked at the box, then at him. “Of course not. Why would I?”

“Because it’s for you.”

“For me?” Her lips parted in surprise. “I—I don’t understand.”

“I would have had it delivered to your home, but I suspect your brothers would object to a man they’d never met sending a gift to their sister.”

“A gift?”

“Probing for hints, are we?” He lifted the box and gave it a gentle shake. “Well, it’s not a book, nor is it a new parasol. And I think we can rule out puppy, as well.”

She held it in her lap for a moment, clearly torn by indecision. “I really shouldn’t accept it,” she began, then an impish smile curved her lips. With an expression of childlike excitement, she peeled back the colorful ribbons, parted the tissue, and lifted the lid.

She gave a sharp intake of breath as she lifted the bonnet from the box, her expression softening with a mixture of wonder and delight. He watched as she turned it this way and that to better admire the creation. Unlike some of the millinery monstrosities women were given to wearing on their heads, the rich simplicity of this design had caught his eye.

It was a creamy confection of a bonnet—just ivory silk, rows of tiny pearls, a hint of pale gold embroidery, and tied with taffeta ribbons tinted soft sage. Artless and fresh, yet elegant and feminine as well. A bonnet that shone with subtle beauty, just like Kate.

“According to the milliner,” he said, “it arrived with the latest shipment from abroad. Had you taken your holiday, likely you would have seen something very much like it in a shop window in Paris.”

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, running her fingers reverently along the brim. Then she stopped, shaking her head with an expression of wistful regret. “But it’s far too fine. I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

“You can and you will. Consider it a token of my appreciation.”

“Appreciation?” She gave him a shrewd look. “In that case, did you purchase the same bonnet for Dr. Michaelson?”

“Of course not,” he replied indignantly. “With his eyes? Only lavender ribbons would do.”

James managed to keep a straight face until he saw Kate’s lips quiver. Her laugh was light and easy, washing over him like a soft breeze. He would buy her a thousand bonnets just to hear that sound again.

“Thank you,” she said.

His gaze took in the soft purity of her ivory skin, the plump pink fullness of her lower lip, the hint of obstinacy in her slightly square jawline. He noted the sparks of gold that lit her hazel eyes when she laughed, and remembered how those same eyes glowed green with contentment after she reached orgasm.

The gift had been an impulse. While he knew nothing of fashion, he did know women. And he didn’t believe there was a woman in all of London who didn’t long for a new hat in the spring. And if all women wanted one, Kate must want one. And if Kate wanted one, she would damn well have one. It had been as simple, and as profound, as that.

He took her arm as the carriage drew to a stop in front of his home. He led her inside. “I have another surprise for you,” he said as he guided her to the library. “One I hope you’ll enjoy.”

A small table had been set for an intimate luncheon, complete with formal linens, fine china, and candlelight. A rich variety of mouth-watering aromas drifted across the room. He nodded to his footman. “Thank you, Owen. That will be all.”

Kate waited until Owen had left the room. She looked at James, her expressive face lit with delight. “How lovely.”

“I thought the occasion called for a celebration,” he said.

“What occasion is that?”

“The fine weather. My newfound ability to mount the stairs in my own home. Your new bonnet.” James shrugged. “Take your pick. Any or all of the above.”

He poured two glasses of sparkling wine and passed one to her, watching as she lifted the crystal goblet and brought it to her lips. For once, he wanted to give Kate the courtesy of courtship. He wanted to spoil her with gifts. Fill her with fine food and wine. Send her flowers. Talk about the books she liked, the music she enjoyed, her favorite places to visit.

His appetite for the woman had been so insatiable he’d behaved like a boorish schoolboy, every nuance of romantic overture forgotten in his blind rush to bed her.

He intended to remedy that. To make amends for his roughness, his raw hunger, his need. While he had nothing against the pleasure of fast and furious fucking, there was considerable enjoyment to be found in slow, deliberate mating as well. Each had its place, and he was determined to introduce her to the joys of the latter.

James deemed the luncheon a success. Kate seemed to enjoy their light banter, and even opened up a bit about her childhood. And though his intentions had been noble, the effort to restrain his impulse to abandon their meal and drag her into his bed was harder than he’d imagined. As he watched her select dainty morsels of choice beef, creamed potatoes, and fresh spring vegetables, the purely erotic pleasure of imagining those lovely lips wrapped around his cock nearly overwhelmed him.

While he assumed the food was well-prepared, it left him entirely unsatisfied. What he desperately craved was to pry apart Kate’s soft thighs and linger over the taste of her, a pleasure he had yet to experience.

At last the meal ended. Owen arrived to clear away the plates, leaving behind a dish of sweet summer cherries that had been pitted and soaked in brandy. Ignoring the sterling serving utensil, James reached for a cherry and popped it into his mouth. The fruit was small and slick on the outside, plump and juicy inside.

Leaning toward Kate, he lifted a second brandy-soaked cherry and brushed it against her lips, staining them deep pink. Then he coaxed the sticky fruit past her teeth. A trickle of juice dribbled from the corner of her mouth and ran down her cheek. James caught the thin stream with his tongue, licking the sweet fluid from her skin.

He pulled her into his lap and brought another cherry to her mouth. She moved to bite it, then recognized he held it not within his fingertips, but in his teeth. She took half the cherry, chewed and swallowed. He did the same, not breaking the pressure of his lips against hers.

He swept his tongue into her mouth, savoring the intoxicating brandy and cherry taste of her, so rich and delicious. He angled her head as he probed her mouth, lingering over the feel of her lips, the press of her body molding itself against his.

He moved his hands down her back as they kissed, willing himself to move slowly. He knew her body now, knew what she liked. She liked him to tug free the bodice of her gown, then slip her skirts over her hips and tumble them down her thighs. She liked him to toss her lace cap aside and pull the pins from her hair, sending it cascading over her shoulders in wanton disarray.

She liked him to set her free. To release her from the imprisoning cage of drab, dutiful nurse and expose the harlot within.

It was a task James was happy to perform.

He brushed soft kisses along the column of her throat as he edged her toward the bed. There he stripped her down to a black lace corset and sheer black stockings, leaving the beautiful ivory globes of her breasts and ass fully exposed. That had become one of James’s favorite new pastimes, one he looked forward to with keen anticipation—discovering what racy bit of silk and satin Kate wore beneath her demure frocks.

James tucked another cherry between her lips, then grabbed a handful of the warm, ripe fruit and gently spread it over her chest. Cupping her breasts, he lifted them to his mouth and licked the juice from her nipples, first one, then the other, flicking them with his tongue and nibbling them with his teeth as though he were gorging at a banquet, while Kate strained upward to offer him more.

He brought his hand between her thighs, lightly tracing the tangle of curls that covered her mons. He slipped two fingers inside her. Kate moaned and writhed against him, arching her hips against his hand. She was slick and hot, her thighs damp with desire. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air.

He withdrew his fingers from inside her and brought them to her lips. “Taste,” he said. “So delicious.”

Kate’s eyes widened. She hesitated for a moment, then the tip of her tongue darted out to brush his fingertips. His fingers were sticky with cherry juice and brandy and her own sweet sex. She gave a small, surprised smile, then went back for more. She sucked the taste off his fingers, then licked her lips. James’s erection, already rock-hard, throbbed against his belly. He took a deep breath, steadying himself to continue.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said, guiding her hand between her legs. He bit back a groan as he watched her slide her fingers into her sex, drawing them in and out as though mimicking the deep, driving thrust of his cock. She withdrew her hand and brought it to his lips, allowing him to lick the slick, salty-sweet fluid from her fingers. Her eyes glowed with catlike pleasure as she watched him.

Desperately needing more than just a taste of her, he grabbed her hips and positioned her at the edge of his bed, spread her thighs, then knelt before her. He brought his mouth to the entrance to her sex and flicked his tongue over the swollen pink nub. Kate bucked and cried out, dragging her fingers through his hair.

“You like this?” he asked, turning slightly to press a kiss against the inside of her thigh. His fingers parted the slick pink folds of her sex as his thumb lightly grazed her clit.

“Yes,” Kate panted. She braced herself on her elbows, her head thrown back, her nipples erect and pointed skyward. “Yes.”

“Tell me what you like,” he commanded.

“All of it,” she breathed. “Your tongue on my quim. The stubble on your chin scraping the inside of my thigh. The way your hands grab my bottom. So good.”

“Yes, it is good.” James smiled. “It’s very, very good.”

He licked and teased her sex, alternately probing and caressing her with his tongue and fingers until Kate tensed above him. She wrapped her thighs around his shoulders and locked her ankles behind his back, instinctively pushing herself against him. He curved his hands under her bottom, cupping and kneading her ass, drawing her closer to his mouth.

He circled her delicate folds of her sex with his tongue as she writhed above him, her breath coming in sharp, hot gasps. Then a shudder tore through her and she gasped her release, crying out his name as she came.

James rose above her, trailing a line of kisses up her thigh, her belly, her ribs, her breast. He gathered her in his arms, cradling her against him. Her breath, coming hard and fast, slowed to a deep, steady rhythm. His linens would hold the scent of her, he thought with pleasure, absently drawing his hand up her thigh.

After a moment she tilted her head back to look at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin glowed with a fine sheen of perspiration. “Is that something you like?” she asked.

“Yes. I liked it very much.”

“No, I meant...” she hesitated, then her hand trailed down his chest. She felt the bulge of his erection straining against his trousers. She brushed her palm over his erect sex. “Is that something I can do for you?”

James’s heart drummed faster. His penis, already stiff, seemed to swell in anticipation of her touch. “Yes, men like that.”

She drew her brows together. “Not men,” she insisted. “You. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” he managed, his voice husky with desire. “I would like that very much.”

“You’ll have to tell me what to do...” she began. Wearing the expression of an earnest student, she coaxed him back he was propped up against the headboard. She removed his boots, his pants, his shirt, and his drawers, leaving him entirely spread-eagle and naked upon his bed. Her gaze raked hungrily over his form as a satisfied smile curved her lips.