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He didn’t hesitate in stepping out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants and a loose black shirt. He moved swiftly through the ancient home, towards the room he now knew she’d been allotted.
Caradoc usually went to sleep thinking about work, and woke up in the same mindset. His singular devotion to his career had enabled his dramatic success.
To be similarly obsessed by a woman was a dangerous new development, but one he wasn’t willing to walk away from. Though he knew he ought to. Finn was a distraction; and that’s what he’d wanted. A woman desirable enough to make him feel something other than the dark emotions that Gower’s death had brought out in him.
But she’d been too good at what he’d needed. She’d gone from someone very beautiful whom he found sexy and attractive, to a woman he couldn’t get out of his head. He stopped walking outside of her door, and his breathing was shallow, his eyes thoughtful.
He was due to fly back to New York in a week, and even that date should have been pushed closer. He was at a crucial point with his research, and though his teams were adequate, there was no substitute for his laser-like attention.
But the thought of closing the door on Finn filled him with an anger unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He didn’t want to do that yet. Oh, he’d get her out of his system, and soon, he suspected. But until he did, what harm was there in keeping her where she belonged – in his bed?
Isn’t that what she accused you of? A voice in his head demanded. But it was a small voice – only the tiniest part of him that managed to care about other people and what they needed.
Oh, she had said that about him. He used women for sex, but mostly, those women used him too. That was the way of his world.
And Finn?
She didn’t fit in his world.
So why would she do it? Why would she fall in with the plan he was devising?
His smile was laced with arrogant certainty.
Because he’d make it impossible for her to refuse.
Her skin was warm beneath his mouth. He didn’t dare wake her slowly. He wanted her to burst into the room with awareness and need. His tongue glided along the folds of her beautiful womanhood, and she writhed, still asleep, but in a state of erotic awareness. She liked him to slide upwards, he knew that much, and his tongue was unrelenting. He was demanding her release, and he was demanding her allegiance.
His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her legs wide for him, creating access to her beautiful self. And he felt the moment she woke and murmured, “Caradoc…”
He would have smiled if he wasn’t feeling so determined. Her departure the night before had shaken him.
She began to moan as he lashed her, his purpose obvious. She was reaching for his hair, her fingers digging into
his thickness and her lips were murmuring over and over again. She was beautiful and she was his.
“What are you doing to me?” She moaned, tilting her pelvis to invite him deeper. He didn’t need more encouragement. He loved kissing her there; it made him feel that she was absolutely in his thrall. She jerked her legs but his fingers dug in more deeply, reminding her that this was his game. He was in charge.
“Do I need to tie your arms again?” He asked silkily and she shook her head, though she had found being restrained by him to be the most erotic thing in her life.
“Another time,” he said softly, and now he lifted his head so that he could move a finger inside of her. His mouth didn’t go far though, he kissed the sensitive flesh at the top of her thighs while his hands worshipped her being.
Finn was incandescent with need. She writhed beneath him and her lips were begging him again and again. “Yes,” he agreed gently. “I want that too. I have wanted you all night, Seraphina; I didn’t sleep like you, as an angel, after you left.”
“Please,” was all she was capable of responding, and her legs were lifting and trying to pull him lower. Not his head, not his body, his arousal. She wanted to feel him deep within her. She needed him to claim her.
“Soon,” he promised, as his mouth came crashing down to her breasts. This was a kiss of torture, his teeth nipped her breasts just hard enough for her to cry out, but it wasn’t from pain so much as exquisite, over-whelming pleasure.
“Please,” she whispered again, and her fingers dug into his back. He stepped out of his pants easily, regretting the necessity of pulling on protection. But even with Finn he wouldn’t take risks.
His possession of her was swift but Finn orgasmed immediately. She had already been on the brink of destruction, and this swift, powerful ownership made her crumble. She bit into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming in a voice that would surely wake everyone who slept in the servants’ quarters, despite the fact they were far from her room.
Caradoc moved with her; he had craved her all night and despite his usual stamina, he found himself exploding. “God, Finn,” he groaned, holding her to him while his breathing returning to normal. “You are addictive.”
When her pulse had slowed, and her heart had begun to beat as usual, she smiled up at him. “Good morning.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Good morning,” he was surprised to hear the softness in his voice. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded.
