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Soon enough, that’s all she stood in, having peeled off her drawers and wet stockings.
“Come, Helen of Boston, and recline against that bed, that I may worship you.”
She huffed out a small laugh but stopped when he only stroked her hair, looking serious. Unwilling to show fear or hesitation, she nodded…and lifted the shift from her body. Moving to the bed with bravado, she placed herself against the pillows, but she couldn’t prevent a blush from blooming along her décolletage and neck.
Clad only in trousers and sporting a prominent cockstand, he moved over her. “That day in my offices, I heard your voice and knew I needed to meet you. To know the woman so stirred by an engineer’s model. Who spoke with such confidence and knowledge.”
I’m confident when speaking of ships and timber. She smiled and ran a fingertip over his thick, dark eyebrow. “My voice lured you in, did it?”
“Yes. Then I saw you.”
Her breath caught in her throat at the hunger in his gaze as it dropped to her ample breasts.
His voice gravelly, he continued. “And when I saw you, God, how I wanted to dothis.”
He watched his hand close over the indentation of her waist, kneading gently, then slide down over the bounty of her hip. In turn, she watchedhimuntil the moment his lips parted and his head dropped to one of her breasts.
Yes!
Her head turning side to side, hips undulating into the mattress, she accepted the attention, the care. When her hands pulled at his waistband, he kissed his way up her neck, then rolled lithely until he stood next to the bed.
She sat up, not wanting to miss the sight of the unlacing at last. Breathing hard, she moved to the edge of the mattress. Once nude, his hand took possession of her plait, right at her nape, and he held his body tensely, standing still for her perusal.
She blinked languorously, spellbound by the virility before her. Jutting hard and full, his cock beckoned. With a light touch, she drew a fingertip along the side of his shaft, marveling at his heat and the skin, soft as silk. When she reached a prominent vein, she traced it upward toward his thick tip.
Before her eyes, his heavy balls tightened and a fat drip of clear fluid trickled from his slit. Moaning as a jolt of longing tugged between her thighs, she wrapped her fist around his girth, needing to feel him.
Nicholas’s grip tightened on her hair, and his cock thrummed in her hand. Her thumb dipped into the transparent wetness dripping from him, and she spread it all around the tender head.
Oh, God. It was warm. It was his. She wanted it—she wantedhim.
Arousal pulsed heavily between her own legs, her labia rubbing wetly against each other as she shifted on the edge of the bed. His moisture begat her own. She wanted to lie back and—
Helen froze, her eyes widening at the obvious realization. She let go of him, her hand dropping to the bed.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, sounding concerned.
Rubbing her slippery thumb and forefinger together, she tried to breathe again, eyes darting to his shaft, then her fingers…and to the thatch of scarlet hair between her thighs.
I could become with child.
The thought sent both fear and longing coursing through her. She shut her eyes tight, trying to quell the longing and to breathe more life into the fear.
You cannot let that happen!
The mattress dipped with his weight, and the wiry hair on his thigh brushed hers. She forced her eyes open and met his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I wasn’t thinking before. I want this. I want you. But Nicholas, we can’t…”
His brow furrowed, but his hand was gentle as it cupped her cheek. “Can’t…?”
“If we do this, you will…we…”
“Yes?”
“I could become with child,” she said in a rush.
His breath hitched, and he looked down at her body. “Yes.”
