R Is for Rebel (12 page)

She hummed a sweet, grateful purr of pleasure as her body curled into itself and she turned to one side, grabbing a big down pillow into her arms.

“Don't even think about falling asleep, Abigail.”

She opened one eye and looked at him through a haze of residual pleasure. “Yes, Eliot.” But the one eye closed of its own accord.

“Abigail?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed.

“Wouldn't you be more comfortable out of those clothes of yours?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed again, this time with a wide grin. “Shall I call a valet?”

His laugh was low and suggestive. “I think you're in luck. I am more than happy to assist. I even have something for you to sleep in.”

She rolled onto her back and tried harder to snap out of her postclimax fog. “You do?”

He nodded.

“What kind of something?”

“Hold on, I'll get it.”

He came back from the dressing area with a large white shopping bag.

Abigail scooted up the bed so she had her back against the headboard and her knees pulled up in front of her. “What is it?”

“Many wonderful things, I hope. I confess I haven't looked yet. I just called Carine Gilson and asked her to send over a few pieces from her spring collection.”

“Collection?” Abigail croaked.

“Yes,
darling
,” he mimicked. “There is couture lingerie. You'd better get used to it.”

“I don't even want to ask how dear it is—”

“It was free of course. Industry courtesy and all that.”

“Well, of course it was free for you! You know what I mean.”

He peeked into the bag, still holding it out of her reach. “Maybe you're right. You probably don't want any of this.”

“Oh fine. Just give it here.” She held out her arm with an impatient flick of her fingers.

“Tsk-tsk. How do you think you're going to try on lingerie for me with all of those
practical
clothes in the way?”

“For
you
?” She smiled.

“Of course, for me,” Eliot said. “Who else would they be for?”

“Well, for
me
, of course.”

“Ah, but you have no interest in frilly things, remember?”

“Maybe you're converting me.” She raised a challenging eyebrow.

“In that case, we start with a blank canvas. Clothes off.”

“You're not joking, are you?”

“Nope.” He walked toward one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and turned on the gas flames. “There. I even made it a little warmer for you.” He sat down in the big chair and set the shopping bag to his left. “Let's see what we'll start with…” He rustled around and pulled out something in a goldenrod silk and let it flow through his fingers. “Maybe this.”

Abigail stared at him. She was definitely fully awake again, watching him rub that delicate fabric between his fingers and making the not-great leap to imagining how those same fingers were going to feel against the silk as it slid along her skin. “Stop that, Eliot.”

“What? This?” He was rubbing the lingerie with one hand and absentmindedly stroking his erection through the fabric of his pants with the other. He held up the silk. “You want me to stop fondling your lingerie?”

She dipped her forehead into her knees and spoke into the small space. “You are shameless.”

“Good god, I hope so!”

She looked up and laughed. “Okay, you win.”

His face bloomed into a crooked smile. “Really?”

“Yes.” She slid to the end of the bed. “Really.” Her feet didn't quite touch the floor and she swung her calves back and forth. She stared into his eyes as she began unbuttoning her black silk blouse.

“Great top, by the way. Vintage Chanel?”

She nodded. “My mother's, obviously. She couldn't bear to see me in the Topshop white sweater I was going to wear.”

“Bless her.”

“You all are crazy, you know that, don't you? They're just clothes. Bits of fabric to cover the… bits.”

“Off with the bits, Abigail. Quit stalling.”

“I'm not stalling. I'm just watching you—what did you call it?”

He smiled his encouragement.

“Oh, I recall now. I'm watching you
test
your
limits
.”

His smile broadened and he undid the top button of his pants.

“Oh dear lord. Are you really going to have a wank while I strip and try on lingerie? It's just all too much!”

He burst out laughing. “That's exactly what I'm going to do. And I might make you come a few times while we're doing it, and then I'll probably screw you senseless. Any questions?”

She quit trying to undo the stupid buttons of her mother's blouse and pulled it over her head instead. The skirt was off a few seconds later. “No questions.” She stood in front of him in her (still from Marks & Spencer, but better than white cotton anyway) thong and thigh-high stockings with the matching black lace bra.

“Nice try,” he said, dragging his knuckles lightly across the fabric over her breasts. “But this cheap machined lace is not what I want touching your body.”

“Eliot.” She stomped her small stockinged foot. “You must know how it infuriates me to hear you talk about
my
body as if it were y
our
property.”

“Isn't it?”

“Oh my god. You're like a caveman or something.”

“Or something. Take those tacky things off and try on at least one of these pieces.”

She stared at him. She'd never been the least bit modest, so standing there in her thigh-highs with her arms crossed defiantly over a few inches of black lace made her feel more like a stern teacher than a call girl. “Eliot.” He wasn't really asking her to do it, he was telling her. She wasn't quite ready to deal with the fact that her body hummed and revved when he told her to do things or how wrong-right it felt to
want
to do whatever he asked.

“Abigail.”

“Okay. But only because you asked nicely.”

He laughed again. “I didn't ask nicely. In fact, I didn't ask at all. This isn't me courting you; this is me having my way with you. It's what you want too, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then take the rest of your cheap things off and throw them in the fireplace.”

“You are so evil.”

“Only with you, I promise.”

She looked at him as she pulled the stockings off one at a time and tossed them into the grate. They sizzled and melted and then they were gone. The G-string was up next, and finally the bra. “It's perfectly good. Seems a shame to destroy it,” Abby tried.

“It goes.”

She flung it into the fire like a slingshot. When she returned her attention to face Eliot, she put her fists on her hips in naked insolence. “Here I am.” She used her hands to gesture from her head to her toes and then put her hands back on her hips. “So?”

“Incredible.” He was assessing her again, and damn if it didn't set her heart pounding. “Come closer.” He gestured with one hand. She closed the distance between them and stood before him, one leg slightly turned. He reached between her legs and let the palm of his hand ride up the inside of her thigh. She gasped when he touched her intimately, with an almost careless swipe.

“Eliot!”

“What?” He looked at her like they'd just passed in the Tube station. As if he were about to reply,
May
I
help
you
with
something?

Her libidinous body was beginning to rebel against every weak excuse her brain was trying to throw up in his path.
He's bossy. He's arrogant. He's controlling. He's crazy
, her rational mind cried. H
e's going to screw you senseless
, her libido rested its case.

“So what's in the bag?”

He smiled again. “How about this?” He pulled out a small white corset with black silk ribbon carefully sewn over the stiffer lines.

“Oh my.”

“Right?” He smiled. “Turn around and I'll put it on you.”

She did as he said, and got a little thrill thinking about how his bossy bedroom voice did all sorts of things to her insides. She tilted her head and wondered if she had a bossy bedroom voice.

“What are you thinking?”

He cinched the strings tighter than was technically comfortable, but Abigail enjoyed the firmness of it. The stiff constriction there made everywhere else on her body that much more lush and soft, tender by comparison.

“I was thinking about your voice.” She looked over her shoulder, letting her hands splay around her new smaller waist.

“Holy god, Abigail. Just stay like that for a few seconds longer. You're spectacular.”

She kept her chin on her shoulder and looked at him that way, slyly. “You make me feel spectacular, Eliot.”

“That's the idea.”

“Well, it's quite a good idea, as ideas go.”

“I agree.” His eyes skittered to her derriere then back to her mischievous eyes. He let his hands trace the curves of her hips and bottom. “Simply spectacular.”

Abigail's eyes slid shut at the pleasure of his touch. She would play along with all the kinky corset games in the world, as long as he kept touching her like that. “When can I be touching you?” she asked over her shoulder, her eyes still closed.

“Anytime you want to,” he said.

She pivoted around and dropped to her knees between his strong legs. “I want to.” She undid his zipper and pulled his pants and underwear off in one firm tug. “Oh, Eliot. Look at you.” She looked up at him through long black lashes. “I've been losing sleep over this moment. Wanting and… wondering.”

“Well don't waste another second on my account.” He was bantering with her, but his hands were gentle and coaxing. Lightly caressing her cheek, then tenderly running along her neck. “I'm all yours.”

She licked her lips and looked up at him one last time before she dipped her head and tasted him. His guttural rumbling moan of pleasure vibrated through her lips and bolted through her. After a few tentative strokes of her tongue along his length, and then taking him as deep as she could, she started to experiment, finding herself in a spectacular loop of mutual pleasure. The more she turned him on, the more turned on she became. And he was seriously turned on. Almost as soon as her lips encircled him, his fists dug into her mass of curls and held on. Like the corset, the strength of his hold bordered on pain, but it didn't hurt: it just made the pleasure that much sweeter.

“Abigail, stop!” He said it so unexpectedly and with such a grinding sound to his voice that her head flew up immediately. Eyes glassy, wet lips slack.

“Did I hurt you?”

He coughed. “Hurt? Are you kidding?” He stood up from the chair and pulled her up with him. “Bed. Now.”

She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening her strong thighs to hold on.

“Jesus, Abigail. You are seriously the whole package.”

She was kissing his neck. “So are you, handsome.”

He crawled up onto the bed and she clung to him like a marsupial. “Let go, I need to get this shirt off.” She released her hold and fell the few inches with a throaty laugh.

“Yes! Get it off, darling.” She was rubbing the palms of her hands along the exquisite material of her hand-sewn corset in anticipation of finally having all that Eliot flesh at her greedy palms' disposal. “
Now!
” she snapped.

He raised one eyebrow. “Who's feeling bossy this time?”

“It's true, you know. I've been known to be a little bossy. You going to be all right with that?”

He pulled his shirt up over his head and rose above her on the bed, straddling her legs, on his knees, finally, gloriously naked. “What do you think?”

“I imagine you can be very cooperative with the proper inducements.”

“Precisely,” he whispered, before leaning in to kiss her with a slow, deep thrust of his tongue that sent her body into sizzling fits.

“Undo my corset.” She rolled over onto her stomach, presenting him with the laces that needed to be untied. “I have to have all my skin on you. There's just no question about it.”

He chuckled that low sexy roll of his. “I love when you're certain, Abigail.” He finished with the laces and Abby tossed the (probably priceless) item onto the floor.

She rolled back to face him and squealed, “Finally!” His bare chest and abdomen were wondrous: hard curves, soft hair, thick corded muscles across his stomach. Her hands were all over him, wanting to touch every fantastic inch of him. “Your skin…” She kissed his neck and shoulder. “You make me feel insatiable, Eliot.”

He moaned his approval and continued kissing her neck and the turn of her shoulder.

She rubbed herself into him, wanting to feel him on her. In her. She reached for his erection and held on tight, probably tighter than was strictly necessary, but she wanted to feel it. She wanted to feel everything. “Eliot?”

He kissed her neck for a few more seconds before he leaned up onto his elbows and pinned her with those dark blue cloudy eyes of his. He did that, that thing where he didn't stop doing something delicious until he was quite finished, thank you very much. A lovely mix of taking and giving. He was generous that way. Abigail could only imagine the lengths to which he would go to make sure she was well and truly satisfied. She didn't have to imagine much longer.

“Are you ready?” he asked. The twinkling mischief of corsets and stripteases and burnt offerings had dimmed. He sounded genuinely concerned about whether or not she was prepared to go on.

“Ready? Eliot. Suffice to say I've been wanting you for quite some time, and you well know it.” She held him even firmer in her grip.