Daring Time (9 page)

The thought of pushing his cock into that tight sheath made his fist piston over his cock more stridently.

He cursed and forced his hand to drop to the mattress. He didn't want to come. Well, he did, just not right here and right now. Instead he needed to build his desire as he envisioned Hope with as much clarity and focus as he could manage. Something told him this would provide a path to her; that their combined desire melted the barrier of time that stood between them.

He would keep her safe. He
would
have her. There really wasn't any other possible option as far as Ryan was concerned.

Fifteen minutes later he stood and approached the mirror.
She'll be there,
he thought, shaping reality with a burst of stubborn will.

He didn't bat an eye when he saw Hope standing in the gilt mirror clutching together the lapels of a robe, the silver filigreed locket gleaming between the V of the dark green fabric, her long, dark hair spilling around her shoulders.

This time he'd known she'd be there.

Hope chastised herself for her modesty when she saw Ryan standing in the mirror, naked, aroused and proud. Her intuition had told her she'd find him there. She'd already locked her bedroom door and stripped out of her clothing, draping her velvet dressing gown over her naked body before she opened the wardrobe door.

She read his lips unerringly this time.

Hope? Can you hear me?

She shook her head sadly. His mouth pressed into a grim line. He pressed one large hand to the glass.

Hope inhaled slowly, drawing on her reserves of courage. She pulled back her robe and let it drop to the floor.

Upon reflection she'd come to understand why Ryan had purposefully stoked the fires of their desire last night. Their mounting need for one another somehow penetrated the very limit of time.

She met Ryan's eyes, her chin tilting up with a mixture of pride and stubbornness. She would not cower because of her sex or her nakedness.

Besides, the way Ryan's eyes scorched her as they trailed over her body hardly called for a show of embarrassment. If anything, that hot look made her feel like a queen. She took a step toward him, pausing in mixed excitement and wonderment when the hand on the mirror reached further for her. Ryan's entire forearm extended into her bedroom.

A small burst of laughter escaped her lips when he turned his hand palm up and made an unmistakable gesture.

Come here.

She saw amusement curving his handsome mouth as well. That small smile erased all of her uncertainties. She took another step toward him and reached for him. For a long moment they grasped hands and locked gazes. He tried to reach for her with his other hand, but Hope knew he'd been stopped short when his palm pressed to the glass. His fingertips skimmed lightly up her arm before he cupped her shoulder, the caress gentle and cherishing and yet fiercely possessive as well.

Hope watched his face fixedly as he began to move his hand over her body. He slid it slowly over her neck and back down the slope of her shoulder before he palmed her upper arm and flexed his fingers into the flesh, his actions causing her nipples to grow achy and tight. Before she could stop herself she reached up and pressed her fingers to one of the sensitive tips, desperate to alleviate the prickling pain that plagued it.

He stared at her fingers on her nipple before his gaze leapt to her face. Hope moaned softly at what she saw in his fiery eyes. His penis flicked forward, drawing her gaze.

Then his big hand was cupping her left breast from below. He held her up for a few taut seconds while he examined her.

Her bead fell back, her long hair tickling the tops of her buttocks, when he began to mold and shape her breast to his palm. He pressed her stiffened nipple to the center of his hand and lightly rotated, causing her to cry out in pleasure. His actions seemed to strum a magical cord between her breast and sex, making her throb with excitement. As if he knew about this invisible connection, his hand dropped and he traced it down her belly.

He paused over her navel, his splayed hand over her center seeming to encompass her entire being, before he swept over her hips languorously. His fingertips and the upper ridge of his palm were slightly calloused, causing a slight abrasion on her smooth skin that excited her immensely.

"Ryan," she moaned, lifting her head. She reached for him but stopped abruptly when she saw him shake his head.

Let me, first,
she thought she understood him to say.

He tried to push his other hand through the mirror again. Hope's eyes widened slightly in amazement when he at first seemed to be succeeding and the glass bulged toward her like thickened water. Then it sprung back into place. She read Ryan's frustration from his tensed muscles, but then he met her eyes and gave her a reassuring nod.

Don't worry. I'm going to reaclryou soon enough,
his determined gaze seemed to say.

Hope shivered in anticipatory excitement.

Ryan moved his hand, perhaps sensing the trembling in her flesh. He ran his fingertips over her thighs, then sandwiched his hand between them. In her nervous excitement Hope found herself clamping her legs tighter together, not because she wanted to avoid Ryan's touch. Her muscles clenched to alleviate the stark pain of longing that stabbed through her at that moment. She noticed Ryan's eyebrows go up wryly and smiled shakily as she parted her thighs several inches. She almost bit her lower lip clean through in anticipation when he raised his hand toward her sex, but he merely cupped it ever so briefly before he rose back up, stroking her belly and waist.

She gasped in rising desire when he lightly ran his fingers against the side of her breast, making the crests bead into pointed little darts of sensation. Her reward was to have him lightly pinch a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Hope whimpered. Before she'd met Ryan she would have thought having her nipple pinched would be unpleasant and painful. But at that moment of sharp, intense desire it seemed the only way to

alleviate the ache that plagued her. Ryan's fingers on her breast caused a sympathetic tug in her womb, making her feel an aching emptiness.

Ryan glanced up into her face before his head dipped. For a breathless moment she thought he was going to penetrate the mirror and kiss her upturned lips. His hand opened and he cupped her breast in his palm. His massaging movement was neither soft nor forceful, only sure.

"No," she murmured in protest when he dropped his hand from her breast.

Yes,
she saw him mouth.

His fingers dug lightly into her hip. Hope's eyes widened when she realized he wanted her to turn around. She stared over her shoulder in trepidation as she turned. It'd been monumentally thrilling and embarrassing to stand before Ryan naked while he stared boldly at the front of her, but she was surprised at how excited she became at the thought of him inspecting the back of her.

Liquid warmth bubbled from her sex.

When she continued to try to crane around to watch his outstretched hand, Ryan shook his head slowly. She felt his fingers on her neck, gently urging her to face forward.

Hope panted as she stared unseeingly at the fire leaping in the hearth while Ryan parted her hair at the nape, gently moving the heavy weight of it over each of her shoulders, baring her body to his gaze.

For a moment nothing happened. The air burned in her lungs as she held her breath.

When she tried to look over her shoulder to quiet her curiosity over what Ryan was doing, she felt his hand on the back of her skull, keeping her in place. She gasped. For some unknown reason that firm, restraining gesture made her sex twinge with painful arousal. She resisted a powerful urge to bend over, to offer herself to him more fully like a female animal in heat.

Her cheeks burned when she registered her thoughts. Was
this
what sex was? Is that why so many preached against the evils of it? Because it turned civilized people into primitive savages? Hope couldn't help it. Now that she'd encountered Ryan, she vas even more greatly inclined to trust in not only the wisdom of the bard but the wisdom of another one of her secret idols, Mr. Walt Whitman. She kept a copy of his amazingly carnal book,
Leaves of Grass,
secreted in the compartment she'd discovered in the mantel.

Perhaps God
wanted
them to celebrate their fierce, savage human mature.

God was the one who made them so able to appreciate their bodies so immensely, after all, Hope thought as she slowly bent at the waist while Ryan trailed his finger down her spine.

SEVEN

Hope's skin was unlike anything he'd ever touched. Did they perhaps use some emollient a hundred years ago that had been lost to the ages? Or maybe the relative lack of pollution and differing bathing techniques kept the skin more healthy, Ryan mused as he traced the elegant line of her back and spread his hand over the enticing curve of her hip.

It drove him crazy not to be able to touch her more fully. But he only seemed to be granted the ability to penetrate at one point in the mirror. For now, anyway, he added to himself.

When Hope bent forward, her pale, plump bottom coming within an inch of the mirror, Ryan's cock leapt up and thumped against the glass.

"Little witch," Ryan muttered between clenched teeth. She'd literally presented herself to him when he was doing his best to control himself while touching her gorgeous body.

He ran his hand over a buttock and gently swatted her.

Her head whipped around. When he met her startled dark eyes he arched his eyebrows in a wry expression. Her cheeks colored becomingly so he smacked the other cheek, more firmly this time, wishing like hell he could hear the popping noise his palm made on her supple flesh.

Best she learned early qn what happened when she teased him, Ryan thought with a small grin. His smile widened in deep gratification when he palmed a shapely ass cheek and sunk his forefinger into her pussy.

She was soaking.

Her lips parted as she looked back at him and he almost heard her cry of excitement. He withdrew and plunged back into her, marveling at how her sleek, muscular channel pulled subtly at his finger. She was tight. Snugger than any woman he'd ever been with.

Was she a virgin? Weren't young ladies of Hope's class usually virgins when they married?

So why the hell had she been in those photos?
That
woman was no virgin.

With the evidence right at his fingertip, so to speak, Ryan had to concede that at this point in time, it was highly unlikely that Hope Stillwater had ever had intercourse with a man. But did she ever seem eager to, Ryan thought as she began to buck her hips back and forth against his fucking finger. He watched her face carefully while he stimulated her, studying her reactions. From the looks of things he'd found her G-spot. He concentrated on rubbing there every time he plunged deep into her sweetness. She looked magnificent, bent over with her bottom in the air and her hands on her thighs. Her head was turned in profile, her face gleaming with a coat of light perspiration, her dark pink lips parted as she panted and sighed in mounting excitement.

The head of his cock pressed against the mirror, spreading a thin coat of pre-cum on the glass. He fisted himself with his left hand and held Hope's gaze as he stimulated both of them. Hope twisted her chin and met his stare.

"I will have you," Ryan said quietly. He didn't know if he was telling Hope or assuring himself, he only knew he spoke the truth.

Her dark eyes widened, making him wonder if she'd understood him. Ryan regretfully withdrew his finger from her pussy and pushed back one round ass cheek. He felt her muscles stiffen as he looked his fill at her treasures: the delicate, glossy pink folds of her sex and the tiny rosette of her asshole. He groaned when the muscular ring clenched tight as he examined her. She was uncomfortable having him stare at her, but it was best she understood early on that he wouldn't be denied any part of her.

He held her wide-eyed stare as he plunged his forefinger back into her pussy. When he withdrew he brought her abundant juices to lubricate her clit, but he needn't have. Her clit nestled in warm cream. Much to his satisfaction, Hope's cheeks turned vividly pink almost immediately at his touch. The color of her lips deepened to a lush shade of red.

God he wanted to pillage that mouth with his tongue and teeth. Kissing Hope seemed like the height of eroticism at that moment. When she was finally his, he was going to spend an entire day discovering the pleasures of that sweet, carnal-looking mouth.

Her lips formed an O of awe not five seconds later as she cried out and came against his hand. He'd barely been stimulating her clit for five seconds.

"Amazing woman," Ryan mumbled as she shuddered in ecstasy. He plunged his middle finger into her, wanting to feel her pleasure trembling through her most intimate flesh.

She contracted and convulsed around him in a powerful orgasm. When he saw that her eyes were shut as her entire focus rolled on the waves of ecstasy, he pushed another finger into her clinging sheath.

A pussy straight from a man's personal rendering of heaven, Ryan thought as he penetrated her again and again. His cock was so stiff he felt like it was going to burst straight through the skin.

By the time Hope opened her eyes and her convulsions had lessened, his two fingers thrust into her forcefully. He used his forefinger to stimulate her clit and soon enough her red lips parted in a cry of release and she was shaking again in climax.

"Jesus," Ryan mumbled as he worked her through her second orgasm, stunned by her responsiveness as well as the short refractory time between her climaxes. He gripped his cock tightly, his desire becoming unbearable. When Hope's spasms had waned he withdrew his fingers and grabbed her hip. He pushed her soft, firm flesh directly against the mirror.

He would have her. Hope was
his.
He knew it just like he knew she'd be standing in that mirror a short while ago.