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Her eyes were serious, grave, steady. He moved his hand down her chest. Her heart thumped against the pressure, echoing his own. Her eyes though and her face were calm.
“Please, Jay. Please. Want me like that.”
And he couldn’t say no. He could never say no to that. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers before kissing her again. Cherries. She’d said it too. That meant something, didn’t it? She trusted him, so he could—he filled his lungs.
“All right. I’m going to need to untie you though.”
“So, I shall be permitted to help?” Urs quirked her lips in the most seductive manner possible.
The room spun, and he had to steady himself. Jay untied the binds but held her hands in place with his. Her slender wrists almost fit in one palm.
“I didn’t say that.” He shook as he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Turn over, Urs.”
A slow smile crept over her face. She obeyed, sliding to the edge of the bed. He swallowed. How in the world did she know to do that? Had she read his boyhood journal?
He pressed his body against her, ready to bury himself right where he should be. Leaning forward, he kissed down her spine.
“I—” She moaned. “I had a response to that, but when you touch me I can no longer—Certainly nothing...pithy.”
“That’s part of my plot.” He slipped on the condom, his heart pounding in every corner of his body. He ran his hand down her back.
“What plot?” she asked, though the words were lost as he pressed his body against hers.
The plot to make you mine, forever.
“A man needs a few secrets.” He tested her again.
Urs was ready or, he supposed, with more pride than was proper, still ready.
“Jay, please.” The request was strangled and needy.
Before she could say another word, he pushed her legs apart father and entered her. He’d really intended, despite what she’d said, to at least attempt to be gentle. However, the moment her body squeezed him, he knew no reason.
Jay thrust into her, over and over, clutching any part of her soft, beautiful flesh he could grasp with greedy abandon. She was everything.
When he found his way to her breasts again she shrieked his name, urging him on. Tight and hot and bold and improper, but together they both swayed until their rhythms met in unison. He trailed his fingers down from her breast to apply just a little more pressure as both of their breaths hitched.
“Together.” He growled the word into her ear before thrusting again.
He bit his release into her shoulder. She screamed again, his name, over and over as another series of shudders vibrated from her body inside his, almost like a transference of another union.
With what little strength he had left, he eased them both back onto the bed. He positioned her, still against his chest, his arms holding her in place, molding to him, her skin against his as she continued to repeat his name.
“Shh...” he whispered. He brushed her curls aside and kissed her neck. “There are still people in the house.”
“I—” Urs panted the word as she nestled closer, where she belonged. “I rather enjoy that idea.”
“Then you’re going to have to learn to control yourself just a little or you shall need that towel. Your father might have the patience of a saint, but I have a feeling hearing half of the things we just did would inspire something dangerous in the man.” Though if he had to go, what a way to go.
Jay kissed the top of her head.
“There are ways to make my father acquiesce.” She giggled.
Or there is the privacy of one’s own home.
But he couldn’t say the words out loud. If he said the words, if his secret wish hit the air, everything would shatter.
Before he could think of a proper reply, her breathing had slowed. She was asleep, naked, in his arms. They were where they belonged, plot or no plot.
