Pride and Pleasure

He stroked himself brazenly through the doeskin. “You cannot have this again so soon.”



“Why not?” she demanded, her gnawing desire making her audacious.



“You’re sore, and I’m not in possession of a condom.”



Knowing he was vulnerable to her, she closed the distance between them. With one hand at his nape and the other gripping his buttock possessively, she rubbed against him like a cat.



Jasper’s chest vibrated with a chuckle, stimulating her already tender nipples. “Vixen,” he murmured, bending his knees and notching his erection against her swollen sex. He worked her against him, stroking where she ached with the stone-hard length of him.



“Yes,” she panted, her nails digging into his skin. “I want this.”



His lips moved against the shell of her ear. “You can’t have it, I told you. But I can make you come. Would you like that, Eliza?”



“Please.” She felt feverish.



“Are you wet for me?”



“Jasper!”



“Show me.” He backed away. “Lift your skirts and bare yourself.”



Despite the extremity of her desire, Eliza was still mortified by the request. It was one thing to be in his arms and lost to his skill. It was quite another to stand alone and lewdly display herself. “I cannot.”



His eyes were so very dark. “I promise to reward your courage.”



She fought against years of training and memories of her mother’s promiscuity to blossom as he wished her to do. She’d always believed intimacy was built through time and familiarity. Now she knew it could also be based simply on trust.



She clutched her skirts in her hands. “I suppose you’ve seen countless pantalettes before.”



The corner of Jasper’s mouth twitched. “Countless? How debauched do you think I am?”



“Enough to ask me to do this.”



“True enough,” he conceded with a regal bow of his dark head. “But I did not ask.”



She might have taken him to task for his arrogance, if her brain hadn’t leaped in another direction. So rare is this particular skill that many a woman will disregard other considerations in favor of it, he’d said the day they had first met. And she’d laid claim to a man who possessed such expertise and wanted to practice it on her. How foolish was she to deny herself?



Before she altered her mind, Eliza yanked up her narrow skirts.



The way he looked at her caused the hairs on her nape to stand on end. “How brave you are,” he praised.



Emboldened by his admiration, she untied the ribbon that secured her pantalettes around her waist. The lace-hemmed linen fell to the floor and pooled around her ankles.



“Sweet Eliza,” he murmured, his foot deliberately catching on his discarded coat and sliding it across the floor to a spot directly in front of her. “You are more generous than I deserve.”



He sank to his knees.



As he stared at the dark red curls between her legs, Eliza became so aroused she could no longer stand still. She swayed slightly, and he caught her hip with one hand. With the other, he caught the waistband of her pantalettes and silently urged her to step out of them.



He kept her legs wide by gripping her ankle and keeping it in place. The hand at her hip moved between her legs, parting her and stroking gently through the slickness of her desire.



“I believe you were made for me,” he said huskily, rubbing her flesh with a callused finger. “Look how wet you are.”



Her hips rolled into his teasing caresses. “Jasper…”



Leaning forward, his breath ruffled her damp curls. She tensed in anticipation.



He licked his lips and purred, “Let’s see how wet you can get.”



Chapter 13



Eliza watched as Jasper leaned forward and licked lightly across the quivering flesh exposed by the spread of his fingers. The sensation was exquisite torment. Her thighs shook with the strain of yearning for orgasm. The sight of him on his knees, servicing her with such tenderness, was too stimulating to bear. He was so beautiful. So big and strong. So confident and self-possessed. To see him subjugating himself to her desire filled her with a sense of feminine power she’d never known.



And Jasper had introduced her to that power. Shown her it existed. Reveled in her wielding of it. She cherished him for that gift and his confidence in giving it to her.



Cupping the back of his head, she held her breath in anticipation.



“Open to me,” he said softly, tapping the top of his shoulder.



It took the space of a heartbeat to comprehend what he wanted. He held out his hand to help her balance and she carefully, hesitantly lifted one leg. As the back of her knee settled over his shoulder, the thrill of dominance increased. Heat raced across her skin. The lush weight of her breasts strained her bodice. The illicitness of what they were doing only added to her excitement. Her entire body felt ripe with erotic promise, fluid and languid, restless and alluring.



Jasper tilted his head back to look up at her. His expression—lust laced with fondness and admiration—tightened her chest. “You’ve discovered your ability to enslave a man. And you like it.”



She ran her fingers through his hair, grateful she had the right to do so. “With you, I seem to like everything.”



He caressed her thigh with a firm, yet gentle grip. With a turn of his head, he pressed a kiss to the skin above the tie of her stocking. His tongue flickered, so swift and fleeting she wondered if she imagined it.



“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded. “I am already overwrought.”



“Patience is a virtue.”



“Do I look virtuous to you?” she cried, so frustrated by desire she had to look away.



It was then that the mirror behind him snared her attention. Her breath caught sharply at the reflected view—her leg slung dominantly over Jasper’s broad shoulder, her toes pointed from the delicious expectation, her hands cupping his head and urging him toward the eager flesh between her thighs.



“Are you watching?” he asked with a dark note of devilish provocation.



“Yes…” Eliza stared, unblinking, as his head canted to the side and he leaned into her. A second later, his mouth was on her, his firm lips surrounding her clitoris in a heated embrace. The flat of his tongue rubbed across the distended knot of nerves, and she cried out as tiny spasms rippled through her.



Jasper pulled back, licking his lips. “One day soon, I will spread you across my bed and feast on you for hours, just to hear the sounds you make when I pleasure you.”



His words created a vision in her mind that inspired a heated rush of moisture. He hummed with approval and leaned forward, his hands cupping her buttocks and holding her still. The restraint he’d shown so far disappeared in a voracious assault of lips and tongue that destroyed any remaining rational thought.



Driven to wildness by his ardor, Eliza held his head and rocked into his working mouth. In the mirror, her reflection was both aggressive and wanton, her calf flexing against his back, urging him on. She was red-faced and gasping, her eyes glassy and her hair in disarray. She looked ravished and debased and more sensual than she ever thought she could be.



She looked like a woman who might enslave a man like Jasper Bond.



He hefted her higher with effortless strength, forcing her to balance on the tips of her toes. His tongue pushed into her and she moaned, pleasure sizzling across oversensitive nerve endings. Stabbing fierce and fast, Jasper breached the clenching tissues and drank the flow of silky liquid that welcomed a deeper, thicker penetration.



All the while the mirror starkly displayed her frantic writhing. She ground her throbbing flesh against Jasper’s mouth, riding his thrusts in a mindless quest for orgasm. His tongue withdrew, and he caught her clitoris in a hot, wet kiss. With suction and the pointed tip of his tongue, he set off a climax so intense her vision blackened. Sobbing in the grip of violent shudders, Eliza hunched over him, attempting to pull away from his fervent suckling but unable to escape him. As the gripping ecstasy eased, the circle of his lips tightened, hurtling her headlong into another furious release.



Her nails dug into his shoulders. Tears burned her eyes and sweat bloomed from her skin in a humid mist. As she listed and began to fall, Jasper shrugged out from under her leg and caught her to him, tumbling backward so she sprawled across him.



She clung to him weakly, breathing his name.



“Shh,” he soothed, his hands stroking her trembling back. “I have you.”



He did. Completely.



Jasper stared up at the murals of circling olive branches surrounding each of the three massive chandeliers in the Melville ballroom. He knew time was rushing by while he lay on hard marble with Eliza draped bonelessly atop him. However, he didn’t care about the time or the discomfort of his position. There was nowhere else he would rather be. Aside from a bed, perhaps…



“Jasper?” Eliza’s normally clipped voice was passion-hoarse. He enjoyed the sound so much, he was prompted to press a quick hard kiss to her forehead.



“Um?” His fingers played with the disheveled strands of her tumbling hair.



Her head lifted and she looked at him. “How can you imbue so much smugness into one little sound?”



“Should I not be smug? You just melted in my mouth.”



Gaze narrowed, she rose to a kneeling position beside him and set her hands on her knees. Her expressive face took on a look of examination and calculation. When her focus settled on his groin, his subsiding cockstand swelled to renewed life. He almost held his breath, wondering how far she would go.



“I cannot allow you to leave with that,” she pronounced.



He grinned, adoring her. “Oh? But it is attached, I’m afraid. Fortunately, we are to be married, and you’ll soon have more frequent access to it.”



She gave his shoulder a push. “Not the penis itself. The erection, you vexing man.”



“Ah…I always have one when I part ways with you.”



Her blue eyes widened. “You do not!”



“I do. Not to this extent, but to some degree.”



Eliza appeared to consider this information carefully. “Have you always been so randy?”



“Not prior to meeting you. My natural appetite for sex was previously sated by twice-weekly visits to Remington’s.” He rubbed a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, remembering the flaming tresses spilling across his pillows.



“Courtesans?” One of her hands lifted to rest on his abdomen. “Have you never had a woman who was special to you? One to whom you were attached enough to see more than once?”



“There are some who are…easier to pass the time with. They eschew conversation and work diligently. If they’re available, I will choose one of them over the others. But attachment? No.”



“Sex without affection? That sounds very lonely to me.”



“I don’t know what loneliness is.” It was not in his nature to discuss feelings and such. Jasper shifted uncomfortably, but answered directly. The more he revealed, the less hesitant Eliza became. That result was worth any discomfort. “There are goals to be met and work to be done. There is no time in my day to wish for things I don’t have. Except for you.”



“I will never understand why you like me so well.” The tiny dimple he’d first noted on the day they’d met winked at him. “But I won’t complain about my good fortune.”



Enamored with that dimple, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward him. “Kiss me.”



“You like kissing. Not that I’m complaining. You are very accomplished.”



“I never liked the act prior to meeting you. Now, I cannot get enough. Sometimes the urge to kiss you is so fierce I have a damnable time resisting it.”



Her eyes widened. “Truly? I cannot fathom your disregard. I love your lips. And your kisses.”



“I never considered my mouth a particularly erotic part of my anatomy. There are other places on my body I preferred directing attention to.”



“Can I kiss you somewhere else?” A blush swept upward, over her chest to her cheeks. “Here, perhaps.”



Her hand moved lower and stroked him through his breeches.



“Bloody hell,” he hissed, unprepared for his impossibly swift reaction to her boldness.



“Too much?” she whispered, withdrawing.



“No.” He caught her retreating hand and put it back, mentally kicking himself for startling her away from an act he wanted as much as his next breath. The level of trust she was displaying—from speaking freely to indulging his lustful whims—humbled him. He’d done nothing in his life to deserve her.



“Have your wicked way with me,” he urged. “I beg you.”



Eliza raked him with a heated glance, from head to toe. He felt that gaze like a tangible caress. “Teach me how to please you. Show me the way to be the only woman you will ever need or want.”



Jasper yanked the placket of his breeches open and pushed his smalls out of the way. His cock sprang free of its confinement, straining toward his navel in a display of brute male arrogance.



“My God,” she breathed. “Every part of you is magnificent.”



The awed note in her voice sent relief rushing through him, swiftly followed by rampant desire. He watched as she reached for him, her slim white hands enclosing his scorching length in cool satin skin. His neck arched, his teeth gritting together in a bid for control. A few pumps of his hand and he could finish this. He was primed to blow after Eliza’s earlier display of total abandon. Her scent clung to his lips, filling his nostrils with every drawn breath, spurring his lust to previously unattained heights.



Her fingertips slid delicately up and down his cock, exploring. Jasper exhaled in a rush. His bollocks were drawn up tight, his seed churning and pushing its way up his shaft to leak out the tip.



Eliza touched the first drop, then lifted her finger toward her mouth.