RUINED HEARTS - 2nd Excerpt
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Ethan cleared the desk with the full sweep of his forearm, sending papers and pens flying.
She looked up at him. “Um, Ethan? Why?”
“For you,” he said as he pressed her upper body across the desk’s smooth mellowed oak surface and curved her fingers around the far edge.
“Oh, my heavens, what have you thought of now?”
“Feel. Just…feel.” Swiftly, he tossed up her skirts, settling both of his big hands on her bare buttocks. “Submit to me, sweetheart. I only want to pleasure you.”
Submitting? As her mother had done with her lovers. No, this was nothing like that. She instinctively trusted Ethan not to harm her, and really, she wasn’t submitting to him but to her own desires. Melissa gasped when he massaged her buttocks with his big hands, opening and closing his fingers.
She moaned and arched her back in uninhibited desire, waiting for him to pleasure her. Then he removed his hands from her body. She waited in breathless anticipation for more. She cried out as something soft trailed down her back, slid over each of her thighs then stopped between them, circling her clit. She tried to determine the identity of the object— something exquisitely pointy and fine. What was it?
Ethan moved it over and around the base of her clit in slow, tiny circles driving her desire higher. Drenched—her petals soaked, she bit her lip in an effort to hold onto her spiraling passion, even as she felt wetness slide down the inside of one thigh.
“What are you doing to me?” she whimpered.
He didn’t reply.
Melissa felt a sweet pain build at her center from his unerring touch. To end the madness, she closed her thighs to protect herself from the erotic sensations flooding her body. The feelings were too much! She’d managed to trap the object. This heightened the sensations and she screamed in frustration. Blood strummed through the nerve endings to her core.
“Open to me, sweetheart,” Ethan’s soft voice demanded. When she kept her thighs closed, he growled, “This is part of our agreement. Remember?” Then laughter rumbled from deep inside Ethan’s chest and he whispered in her ear, “Has no man ever given you pleasure like this before?”
“I would say—” She cleared her throat when the words caught. “I would say you are well on your way to being highly successful in that area.”
He laughed again but continued pressing the object against her in that maddening way until she groaned, “My Lord, but you are driving me crazy. Tell me, what have you in your hand?”
“Relax and open yourself to me. I won’t hurt you.”
She knew that, of course, so she unclenched her thighs and felt him move away from her. She glanced over her shoulder and gulped at the sight of a long, goose-feathered quill pen in his hand.
He bent to her then. “Isn’t it amazing how this one small item can create such havoc—such pain and pleasure?” he said in a conversational tone. “Now, cooperate with me and I promise I shall pleasure you beyond anything you’ve ever before experienced.”
“Yes!” she breathed when he touched her again. She closed her eyes and bit her lip when he swept the quill from the bottom of her buttocks to her thighs, down one limb then up and down the other.
Melissa pounded her fists against the desk, emitting a guttural sound of despair at the teasing movement “End this torment!”
He took up a rhythm that kept her on the wicked edge. She cursed, she begged as he swept the feather’s tip across and around her hot, engorged folds. Finally, when tears ran down her cheeks, and her groans escalated into begging, he sank to his knees and took her
swiftly to completion with his lips, rolling her plump nub between his teeth.
“Yes!” she screamed, her entire center throbbing as she bucked against the desk.
Ethan hadn’t finished with her yet. His mouth, lips, and hands worked over her still. His every touch made her shiver—made her feel hot. She couldn’t make up her mind how she felt; she simply just felt every wonderful thing a woman could feel at the moment. Slowly, he kissed her back and buttocks, her thighs and the insides of them.
Then his mouth savaged the center of her once more until her body tightened like the string on a bow, making her convulse once more. Settling in exhaustion upon the desk, she felt as though she’d died and gone to heaven, or possibly this was hell and all of its tales of horror had been false.
Ethan lifted her gently in his arms and carried her to the parlor again. He laid her down on the divan, on her back and stared down at her, eyes glittering.
“Take me, Ethan,” she said softly.
“How?”
She knew what he was asking; he wanted to fuck her—not make love to her, for hadn't he said he could not love her? While his words bothered her, all she could think about was he inside her, loving her, his big, hot, naked body atop her. She saw his nostrils flare, his pupils appeared to dilate, and his lips looked fuller and sensual.
“In the way that a man takes a woman,” she replied. She smiled when he tore off his clothes and hers, and lay down atop her. Melissa gasped at the scorching heat of his body and wound her arms around his neck. She felt him stiffen a moment before he wound his arms around her and held her hard against him. Her skin was highly sensitized to his touch. She couldn’t stop arching her back and raising her hips, searching for him, wanting him to make love to her. She kissed him, writhing beneath him.
He pulled her arms down, settled back on his haunches. She saw the glittering desire in his eyes as they moved over her body. Her gaze honed in on his magnificent, naked torso. He was strong and sleek, his erection long and thick.
“You’ve made me hot for your sweet little cunt,” he said between gritted teeth. Scowling, he added, “But remember that I can’t love you.”
Why not? Would she never experience the joy and beauty of simply being loved by a man? To be completely, utterly cherished? Would she never have that?
