A Midnight Dance (16 page)

Read A Midnight Dance Online

Authors: Lila Dipasqua

Holding fast, he ran his tongue up to her clit, then sucked it into his mouth. She cried out with a sharp jerk of her hips, but he easily held her in place and began to feast, sucking on her in a steady rhythm. His aching sac was full, his cock hard and heavy, straining to its limits, yet he wouldn’t relent, crushing his prick into the blankets to stave off his climax. She tasted so good, so perfect, he couldn’t stop.
She wiggled and writhed, her fragmented sentences and incoherent words mingling with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
She made a sound at the back of her throat. Then there was a shift. He felt it the moment it happened. With a soft whimper, she thrust herself hard against his mouth, unable to control the urge and surrendering completely to his erotic kiss. If he had the strength to pull away, he would have shouted in triumph. Her surrender was as sweet as her taste. He laved her unresisting flesh, her legs trembling near his shoulders. She moaned and mewed, helpless against her own need. Her body tensed. And close to her climax. So close. He celebrated his imminent victory with a final hard suck.
Sabine screamed, ecstasy flooding through her core in hot pulses, her sex contracting wildly with each delicious spasm. He lightly licked her, unrelenting, until the muscle-melting contractions ebbed. And her body was boneless.
Her leaden legs were spread out, his mouth laving her dewy folds, yet all she could do was lie there, panting, her heart still pounding.
He kissed her thigh, then around her navel. Sabine closed her eyes, reeling in the aftermath, light tremors quivering through her body. He drew on her nipple. Her eyes flew open with a sharp gasp.
“You are delicious,” he said.
She got a glimpse of the dark hunger in his eyes before he kissed her mouth. Her taste on her tongue was shocking, but she had no time to react; he wedged his shaft against her opening. She stiffened the moment the crest of his cock slipped inside her.
“Easy. I’m not going to hurt you.” Slowly accommodating his girth and length, her body gave way to the downward pressure of his cock. He was filling her. So completely. So sublimely. A delectable inch at a time.
Looking away, she bit her lip, struggling to steel herself. She was far too shaken from their last round of carnal play. She needed more time to shore up her defenses before she’d be ready to face another shattering experience with him.
“Don’t,
chère
. You’re tensing and holding your breath. Put your arms around me. Just breathe.”
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her, skillfully easing more deeply into her. Penetrating her defenses farther in the most glorious way.

Jésus-Christ
, you feel so good . . .”
Oh, so did he.
A soft alarming emotion whispered through her. A voice told her this felt right. Panicked, she suddenly needed—wanted—the physical pain to distract and distance herself from the intimacy, from the tender feelings welling inside her.
She surged her hips and sheathed him. He growled. She answered with a gasp. The voluptuous sense of fullness and the lack of pain from his possession hit her hard. So, too, did a stunning flare of arousal.
“I like your eagerness,” he said. “As much as I like your hot, tight—” She had his mouth in an instant, unable to listen to his sensual voice or the shocking things he said. It was mortifying, but they had the most unsettling effect on her libido.
“Take me hard and fast,” she pleaded against his lips. Maybe, by some miracle, if he was quick, she wouldn’t have the time to lose herself to him again.
“When you have all of me,” he murmured against her lips.
She pulled her mouth away.
“Pardon?”
He gripped her hips and drove into her with a final solid thrust, sinking in even deeper than before. Her cry of shock and pleasure was eclipsed by the sound of satisfaction that erupted from deep within his chest. His mouth was on hers, his tongue filling her mouth. Lodged deep inside, his shaft filled her sex. She felt utterly possessed.
His hips remained motionless. The bud between her legs ached anew. She writhed, impatient. It was inexplicable but his stillness stoked the flames of desire hotter.
He withdrew halfway then glided back in deep. “Does it feel good?” She moaned.
Her breathing was accelerating. He wanted to talk
now
?
The yearnings became more insistent with every wild beat of her heart. He was as gripped in arousal as she. Why his procrastination? “More. Please . . .”
“More? You mean this?” Once again he withdrew, but this time he rammed her with luscious intensity. A whimper tore from her throat, her vaginal walls left quivering in the aftermath.
“Yes. That. More of that,” she heard herself say, having no idea who this wanton creature possessing her body was. But she couldn’t dwell upon it. She wanted him so fiercely.
“You’ll have more. I will ride you hard and fast.” She squirmed in anticipation, her beaded nipples pressing against his strong chest. “But first you are going to tell me how it feels to have my cock inside you.”
Oh, God, he wouldn’t relent!
“It feels . . .” She searched her mind for the right word. “You feel . . .”
“What?” He licked the sensitive spot below her ear, then bit her earlobe.
She closed her eyes briefly and swallowed. “So good. Incredible.”
“It is about to feel even better.” He gave her a searing kiss and drove in deep and hard. She moaned her delight against his mouth. Finally he began to move his hips.
The magnificent friction from each driving thrust of his thick length melted any remnants of her resolve. Her fingers tangled in his hair. And she returned his kiss with equal ferocity, wanting more. Everything he had.
He filled her again and again, taking away the emptiness. She wanted him to stay inside her. To keep her enraptured so that she’d never have to return to reality again.
Moving her hips, she met his thrusts, matching his rhythm.
“That’s it,” he said against her mouth. “That’s good. Don’t stop.”
She couldn’t stop any more than she could pluck the sun from the sky. The force of each thrust shook her body. Her inner muscles contracted. He groaned.
“Come for me,” he rasped. “I can feel how close you are.”
Oh, yes!
It was just beyond her reach. She had to have it. Or die. He was using all the strength in his powerful body to drive each thrust inside her. Every slam against her womb left her wanting more. Craving more of this. Craving more of him.
“More . . .” she pleaded, half delirious.
He grabbed her hips and shifted his angle. A shock of pleasure shot through her body.
Rapture exploded inside her. His name screamed in her head, or maybe from her mouth, her body uncontrollably clutching and releasing his thrusting sex.
He gave a sharp grunt and continued to plunge, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Abruptly, he jerked himself out. Eyes shut, a deep sound of pleasure rumbled from his chest as he spent himself between their bodies. In the grips of his release, the muscles in his neck and strong arms corded. He’d never looked more beautiful.
Transfixed, all she could do was stare as the image was branded into her memory.
His body finally relaxed. His weight on his elbows, he lowered his head and rested his forehead on hers.
Her body still shaky, she tightened her arms around him and held him, basking in a sense of peace the likes of which she’d never known. Sabine closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy his scent, the feel of him against her. Luxuriating in the quiet soulnourishing moment.
The world with its injustices seemed far away. Reasons that divided them blurred. He felt more like her Dark Prince and less like her enemy.
Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. A slow smile formed on his lips, drawing a smile from her. When he gave a soft chuckle, it moved her to one as well. For the first time in years, she felt so light she could fly.
He brushed his lips against hers, his warm rapid breaths mixing with her own. “Beautiful forest fairy . . .” he whispered into her mouth, then ran his tongue along her lower lip. Tingles sped down her spine. “That was so very good.”
His words pleased her far more than they should. “Too good . . .”
Pure bliss
. . .
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “No such thing.” She heard the smile in his voice.
Pressing languorous kisses along the side of her neck, he trailed a warm path up to her ear and back down to the curve of her shoulder. Softly she moaned. She was thoroughly sated, her muscles delightfully lax, yet he could still elicit heated reactions from her.
What woman could remain—
Oh!
He nipped her earlobe—unstirred by this man when he’d set his sights on her as the object of his desire?
“They should warn women about you in the
Gazette . . .”
she said breathlessly.
He lifted his head. “The
Gazette
? The Paris paper? How do you know about the
Gazette
?”
She froze. Her heart gave a hard thud before it began to pound. If her wits hadn’t been so sluggish, she wouldn’t have made such a blunder.
“I . . . I . . . heard about it. From my cousin. Th-The one in Maillard. He’s been to Paris.” She forced herself to maintain his gaze. For the first time, she found herself hating to lie to him.
“Have
you
been to Paris?” he asked.
“Me? No. You?”
He rolled off her and sat up. She felt bereft immediately. He picked up a cloth near the basket. “Yes. I have,” he said tightly. His family’s city mansion, Hôtel de Moutier, had been his primary residence. It, too, had been stripped from him upon his family’s disgrace.
Clearly, the mention of Paris caused him distress. Had the last five years been as difficult for him as they had been for her? Sabine arrested her thoughts. She couldn’t dwell on him this way.
No matter what, she still had to do what she had to do. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to shatter this moment with painful thoughts. She’d found an unexpected moment of contentment. And she wanted to linger in it awhile longer.
It was the first time she’d experienced any kind of happiness in a long time.
It was the first time she’d experienced any kind of happiness without Isabelle being a part of it.
He moved onto his side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he schooled his features as he attempted to hide his true feelings from her, and wiped her thigh clean.
“Tell me about Fillon,” he said.
“Fillon?”
He stopped wiping and lifted a brow. “Yes. Your
town
?”
“Oh! My town, Fillon. Of course. What do you wish to know?”
He gave himself a quick wipe and tossed the cloth away. “Tell me about your family there.”
She stiffened. At the mention of the word “family,” her heart constricted; Isabelle’s name echoed in its empty chambers. “I’ve already told you, I’m alone.” This wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss. Especially with him.
“Easy, it’s all right.” Clearly he’d noted her sudden distress. Capturing her chin, he gave her a soft unhurried kiss she felt all the way down to her toes. “I thought to make this less of an impersonal encounter by learning more about you. But if you wish to keep it impersonal, you don’t have to answer—”
“Impersonal encounter?” That sounded cold and unappealing. And what they’d experienced together had been anything but.
“Yes. An impersonal encounter. The sharing of bodies and nothing else.”
The description bothered her. And she didn’t know why it should.
“Do you have something to hide? Something you don’t want me to know?”
She sat up. “I’ve nothing to hide.” For her numerous lies, she was overdue for a lightning bolt.
“Good. Then tell me about the people in your town.”
She plucked at a thread on the blanket. “They didn’t like us.”
“Really?” His brows shot up. “Why not?”
“They thought we were . . .”
“What?”
“Odd.” That was mildly put. Why on earth was she telling him any of this? When she’d told him so many lies, why tell him the truth about her life?
“Odd? How so?”
“My family was . . . well . . . different. They enjoyed entertainment. A certain type that the townspeople frowned upon.” Sabine lay down on her side to face him, tucking her hands under her cheek. “They were rather a rigid lot.” Though her father never cared a whit what the townspeople thought, they were all made to feel like outcasts. She and her father and Isabelle, and members from her father’s troupe—his longtime mistress, Louise; her two daughters, Josette and Pauline; Vincent; and Olivier—weren’t well received. The townspeople’s true feelings toward those from the city, in particular actors, were unmasked once they no longer owned their own land and were in financial ruin.

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