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She glared at him, unable even to breath. “No, but it won’t take long.” She filled her lungs in one quick breath. “This is who you are!”
He crossed his arm. “Are you so blind you cannot admit people change?”
Her arms tracked the table edge and held it for her life. “You? Change? You’re laughable!” She succeeded a dismissive smile.
His brow pleated irritably. “It is time you become open minded about it. I have no intention of repeating past mistakes!”
She lifted her chin to him. “Oh, so you do think it a mistake… progress to be sure.”
“Undoubtedly.” His muscled body cornered her. “Now let’s make more progress here.”
Something skimmed her stomach. Fervent blush flooded her at the perception it was his… Oh!
He laced her by the waist, their bodies glued, her breath caught. “Say you don’t want me.” He commanded hoarse.
She lifted her defiant eyes to his. “How can I want a degenerate?”
“You shrew!” He murmured like a caress. His hand covered her breast under the shawl. “Delectable shrew!”
Unable to prevent a sigh of pleasure, she sagged against the table. In no time, his hand sneaked up her legs and found her ready core under her camisole. A smug smile designed on his thin sensuous lips at the proof of her desire for him.
His arm elevated her to the table, their eyes meshed ensnaring, and her lungs lacked air. Those big hands bunched her nightgown up, in a light, tantalizing caress on her sensitive thighs. The pressure he exerted for her to lie down did not even need to be firm, she lay melting. How he did it, she would not know, but his stubble mouth found her core and…and… Dashing pleasure, so intense, it rendered her mute, converted in a mass of defeat and flames. She arched her back, mashing against his ravenous mouth, gripping the table edge, lest she fell in an abyss. He grazed, suckled, savoured, lapped. Ate!
Her thighs opened more, giving him more access, moaning indecently, as her temperature raised several degrees. She craved him inside her; envisioned the explosion it would deflagrate in her in ragged breaths. She contorted, hungered. Almost… almost… He did not let up, insistent in his torture as she perceived the tide nearing. She would–god!–she would... Right on the library’s table, what an indecent outcome!
He stopped.
Her pleasure-filled lashes lifted and directed a stare at him. She saw his hair-peppered strong chest through the opening on his shirt neck. He stood up, covering her legs, and stared at her as if making a point. Her body not a secret for him by now, he knew she got close, so close! Close to enjoying a degenerate, his eyes accused. Close to begging, demanding. Exploding!
He turned around, walking away, his breeches revealing his tight back and strong legs.
Furious frustration washed her as iced water. She leaned motionless against the table, primed. Hungry. Long minutes elapsed until rage got the best of her.
Conrad lay on his bed counterpane, hard and restless. He had been an inch from losing control and taking her. Surrendering to her after what she had issued. There had been nothing he craved more; pride be damned. If she had begged him, he would have given in to her allure. Her whimpers, her response, her readiness would have had him undone in a trice.
Still, he lay here ready and eager. What use did he have for pride then? She would not have denied him. Not in the heat of passion. If he made her frustrated, he was twice as much. The low fire on the fireplace cracked, the flames giving a slow glow to his chamber. He should have brought her here; he would take her and revel in her receptiveness. You fool! He admonished.
Suddenly, the connecting door opened. He watched as she entered, an intent expression in her eyes. She halted a few feet from his bed, eyeing him, glorious hair loose now. Without breaking eye contact, she paced to the bed, serious, pervaded. In one movement, she took out her austere camisole, revealing her goddess shape to him. Blasted hell! But she would unman him in a second.
Not a single word, she bent over his middle, loose hair falling around her, tempting fingers unbuttoning his breeches. Fire darted to his already famished groins. His extreme erection revealed, her fingers took it; his breath caught, he closed his eyes. He would not last. This she-wolf of his would not let him get away with his provoking her, thank heavens!
She strode him; his rock-hard member sliding in her tight, burning sheath. He lost it. And she rode him. Thoroughly. His hands covered her breasts, she arched with the pleasure and the movement reflected directly on their coupling, maddening him even further. She moved, hell-bent on what she wanted.
He could help it no more. His big hands grabbed her waist, his hips pressed up, her movements hastened, and they turned delirious. She cried her earthquake. He followed, grunting, in what must be the most gut-wrenching convulsion he had ever had. She took everything from him and more.
After a brief moment, she moved from him and he thought she would lie on the mattress. Big mistake. She stood, picked her camisole up, striding proud back to her room—avenged—leaving him alone and in need of her.
From this night on, she came to him. Every night. And used him. Any way she liked. Either on top or not, she remained in command. She transformed him in a sort of boy-toy, he acceded. It was better this than nothing. She never stayed the night, leaving when satisfied, mercilessly. He craved her company, her warmth. She would deny him them. Everything happened on her terms as she wanted it.
It gave him a taste of his own poison. Made him know how it felt, all those times he did the same to other women. For now, he would have to leave the situation at it. After having messed up with his display of jealousy, this came as a strategic backing. He would take time to gain ground. He would not lose any though.
“I’d rather be doing more...interesting things than attending Mrs Coleman’s tea party.”
Aurelia and Conrad sat on a buggy he drove along a curvy country road. A warm spring sun filtered through the green foliage tinting the woods in vivid colours.
“Serves you right for judging me by the appearances.” Aurelia responded irreducible.
She talked to him looking in front as the fear that, if her eyes looked at him, she would change her mind and head back to the manor, more precisely, his chambers. She had told Mr Coleman that both would be glad to consent to the invitation and dragged him here after having explained the scene he so hastily interpreted.
