Part 21 (1/2)

Jeez, this is never going to end. I should hire her to do interrogations. She'd wring a subject dry and leave him begging for more.

”Can we just agree that I can be a real tool sometimes and leave it at that?” I suggest.

She gives me a smile so sweet that it makes my c.o.c.k jerk. Looking into my eyes, she says, ”We both know there's a lot more involved, Ian. You put a very high priority on being able to control yourself. I make that more difficult for you.”

She pauses and takes a breath. Her teeth worry her lower lip. I'm staring at them when she adds, ”I think that's why you called Edward, so that he'd take me away.”

My gut tightens. How is this happening? I usually have no trouble showing the world only what I want it to see and keeping the rest buried deep. But that's not working with Amelia.

She sees far too much. If I'm not careful, she'll strip me bare. I can't allow that.

”I wanted you to be free to choose,” I counter.

It's the truth, sort of. A carefully edited truth, to be sure, one that leaves out a lot of relevant information but it's not like I'm outrightly lying...exactly.

”What if I'd said that I wanted to stay?” she asks.

My breath catches at the thought. What if she had? What would I have done? Before anything else, I'd have had to deal with Edward, who would have gone at me with anything he could get his hands on.

I'd stripped the library of obvious weapons before I called him but that still left plenty of options for a guy as enterprising as I know ”Teddy” to be. It wouldn't have been pretty.

But it might have been d.a.m.n satisfying.

Rather than dwell on that, I say, ”But you didn't and I didn't expect you to. Your brother was talking about family and home. Of course you wanted to experience that and I wanted it for you.”

I hesitate. After so many years of keeping an iron hold on my emotions, it's tough to let any of them out. B can't get pa.s.sed the idea that Amelia deserves more. Apparently, I also can't resist the need to give it to her.

Slowly, I say, ”Watching you walk out that door hurt like h.e.l.l.”

She blinks and her eyes are suddenly glistening with tears. f.u.c.k! The last thing I want is to cause her yet more pain.

But when I tell her so, she says, ”You haven't...you don't...not exactly.”

Her hand reaches out, her fingertips pressing lightly against my lips before brus.h.i.+ng over my chin and down my throat to my chest where she presses her palm gently over my heart.

”I can't stand the idea of you hurting because of me,” she says.

I feel as though I've just run a marathon. Beads of sweat break out on my forehead. I can't seem to get my breath. Something deep inside feels as though it's cracking wide open.

Enough with the touchy-feely talking bulls.h.i.+t. I know a h.e.l.l of a better way to communicate.

Before she can even think to protest, I go down on my knees in front of her and stroke my hands up both her silky bare legs to clasp her hips. Pulling her forward to the edge of the seat, I bury my head in a froth of silk skirts, lace lingerie, and pure Amelia.

”I need to taste you,” I groan. ”Just that, nothing more, unless you want more, of course, which would also be fine.” I realize that I'm babbling and shut the h.e.l.l up.

She gives a soft little gasp, which is all the permission I need. My mouth and tongue savor every inch of her from the sensitive spots behind her knees up along the inside of her thighs to her slit.

I inhale deeply, loving the scent of salty sweetness mingling with the essence of pure Amelia. Her breathing is suddenly ragged and she's staring at me wide-eyed but she doesn't object or try to close her legs.

The little sc.r.a.p of panty she's wearing rips when I pull it to the side. They should make those things st.u.r.dier if they want them to last. I gaze at her in wonder. She's all bare except for that delectable little arrow of hair, and her lips are s.h.i.+ny with her arousal.

Thank G.o.d I'm not the only one.

Her hands clasp my shoulders, her fingers digging in through the fabric of my polo s.h.i.+rt. It's cotton--thick enough to absorb sweat, thin enough to let the air in--and snug because when you're in a hard gallop across a playing surface the size of nine football fields bearing down on a ball that's just over three inches in diameter, you don't want your s.h.i.+rt flapping in the breeze to distract you. Concentration is everything in polo, as in so much else.

I zero in on her slick wet l.a.b.i.a, parting them with my thumbs and stroke the flat of my tongue all the way up to her small, glistening c.l.i.t. d.a.m.n, I've missed it! It's so adorable, so responsive, and it likes me, I can tell. With every lick I give it, it swells.

Her thighs are shuddering, she's gripping me even harder. As I lap at her, her thready little moans turn into the sweetest sound I can ever hope to hear.

”Ian...oh, G.o.d, Ian...!”

My name on her lips. Perfect. I ease a finger into her, followed by another. She's so blissfully wet but she's also tight and I can't bear the thought of hurting her. She doesn't seem to have any such concern because she's pumping up and down on me, her breath coming in gasps as I find just the right spot and thrust back and forth relentlessly.

There is no s.e.xier sight than Amelia when she comes. She's exquisitely beautiful under any circ.u.mstances but nothing beats the moment when her neck arches back, her lips part in that perfect O, her eyes close in ecstasy and-- ”Look at me,” I say because of all the perverse things to happen, good old Hayden has just jumped into my mind. I want to make d.a.m.n sure that she knows who's doing this to her.

Her eyes fly open. She fumbles for my hands, our fingers entwining. Holding onto me tightly, she stiffens as wave after wave of pleasure course through her. I should ease up, let her catch her breath, but I'm not about to. As I continue tonguing her c.l.i.t, she keeps coming hard and fast.

Her responsiveness awes me. My grat.i.tude for it knows no bounds but I don't have time to tell her that because I'm dying. My b.a.l.l.s are either about to explode or the s.e.m.e.n back up is going to shoot straight up my spine and blow the top of my skull off. True, I've never heard of a guy actually buying it like that but the way I feel, n.o.body's going to convince me that it can't happen.

There's only one solution and fortunately Amelia is urging me to take it.

”Please, Ian,” she says, tugging at my biceps, ”I need you inside me. Now. Oh, G.o.d, please! Now!”

If the military taught me anything, it's to be a gentleman. A lethal one with a very high kill ratio but still-- It's not polite to keep a lady waiting. In an instant, I've taken her place on the backseat with Amelia facing me, straddling my legs. The snug polo pants slow me down, so does the cup I'm wearing. Her head is against my neck, her breath coming in little sobs, when I finally free myself, lift her up a little more and--- Ohd.a.m.nf.u.c.kme... She feels so good...like drenched wet silk rubbing up and down the whole length of my c.o.c.k, clenching so tight-- I really want to make this last but Amelia isn't helping. Her teeth rake my throat, she's putting scratches in my back, and those noises she's making, sweet little mewling sounds so full of need and-- ”f.u.c.k, Amelia!”

The world turns red hot. A mist moves in front of my eyes. Every o.r.g.a.s.m I've had with her has been incredible and this is no exception. I'm spurting into her, coming and coming, when she lowers her head suddenly, takes my mouth with hers, and plunges her tongue into me.

Ohf.u.c.k!

Somewhere somebody, an archangel maybe, must keep a record of the really important things like the longest male o.r.g.a.s.m ever. Time to rewrite the record books because I just can't stop.

She's wringing me dry, taking everything I've got and it is so d.a.m.n good I just want to stay this way forever, buried b.a.l.l.s deep in her, more alive than I ever knew it was possible to be.

”Amelia-amelia-amelia,” I'm chanting her name like it's a prayer, holding onto her with all my strength, and at that moment I know that I never want to let her go.

f.u.c.k free will, she can have mine. I'm hers now and forever. World without end.

And it doesn't. It just rights itself a little once we both start breathing again.

”I can't believe we survived that,” she says and gives a satisfied little laugh.

”Speak for yourself,” I moan, my head thrown back against the seat and my eyes closed.

She laughs again and starts kissing my throat, working her way up to my mouth slowly and tenderly so of course I kiss her back the same way. That's only fair plus it feels so good. I'd be perfectly happy to keep on doing that while my c.o.c.k, still inside her, twitches on its way to getting hard again. d.a.m.n thing has no sense at all, thank G.o.d.

But Amelia breaks off and looks at me with a teasing smile. ”Are you sure the love of your life won't be upset about this?”