Nicole Jordan - Ecstasy

“You know it does.”

Bracing her hands on either side of his hips then, she bent to him, first trailing her lips along the huge, swollen length of him, then touching his flesh with her tongue, tasting the brandy, along with his own musky masculine flavor. When he drew a sharp breath, she closed her lips around the hot blunt tip.

In only moments his hips were flexing restlessly beneath the soft suckling of her mouth.

“Witch,” he muttered in a voice rough with need. “You had best stop before I spend myself.”

“Not yet…”

For several long heartbeats more, she pleasured and aroused him, until he was nearly writhing. Her sense of power swelled to bursting as he fought for control.

“Do you intend to make me beg you?” he rasped.

Raising her head from his straining shaft, Raven sent him a challenging look. “Would you really beg?”

“Yes…sweet mercy, yes. Please, my lovely Raven…”

“Well…” To give like this was ecstasy, but she wanted to take as well. She gave Kell a taunting smile. “Since you insist…”

Straddling his waist with her thighs, she leaned forward, deliberately letting her breasts lightly caress his chest. “I don’t believe you are hot enough yet.”

Her teasing made him clench his teeth. “Damn you, vixen… Any hotter and I will burst into flame.”

Indeed his eyes smoldered as she eased downward over his rigid sex, slowly impaling herself.

Kell shuddered as if it were almost more than he could bear, and her sense of power intensified. She loved having him fill her this way-and yet it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to participate in his own ravishment.

Bending, she grasped his wrists and drew his hands to her breasts, her hard nipples stabbing his palms. Immediately he understood her need and complied, rubbing the aching peaks. Raven gave a sigh of rapture at the exquisite sensations and arched her back.

She nearly moaned when his magical hands left her, but he only pulled her thighs wider, lifting his hips to thrust more deeply inside her.

Raven quivered at the scalding hot feel of him urgently filling her, at the clawing need that began to build within her. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time, how her tenuous control vanished while his only seemed to grow.

He took command then, tangling his hand in her hair, forcing her head down until her mouth met his in a feverish kiss. Raven clutched his shoulders while her hips helplessly rocked against his, trying desperately to assuage the hungry primitive ache.

His kiss burned her to near oblivion, while the vibrant fiery pleasure mounted to a sudden, startling explosion that made them both shatter. Her cry of ecstasy mingled with Kell’s groans as the powerful climax swept them both away.

Gasping for breath, Raven collapsed bonelessly on top of him, her hair falling around his face, a curtain of silk. Weakly his arms came up to encircle her, and he lay unmoving.

When finally she regained her senses it was to find Kell stroking her naked back, nuzzling her temple with his lips.

“Did you find that adequate?” she murmured when she could summon the energy to speak.

She felt him smile against her hair. “Unequivocally.”

Easing her off him, Kell drew the sheets up to cover their nakedness, then lay back and gathered Raven closer. Languidly she curled against him and shut her eyes.

It was a long moment before he broke the silence. “What do you call him, your fantasy lover?”

Raven stiffened at the question. “I don’t have a name for him.”

“What does he look like then?”

She hesitated. “Like a pirate. He has black hair and dark eyes.”

“As I do?” He rolled on his side, his gaze finding hers. “Should I be flattered?”

“I don’t think so. I imagined him long before I met you.”

Kell reached up to brush a tendril of hair from her forehead, but he seemed thoughtful when he spoke. “If I had a fantasy lover, I think she would be very much like you… Flashing blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, a beautiful, slender body with lush breasts…”

Raven stirred self-consciously as his voice washed over her, but Kell wasn’t done.

“She would know not only how to pleasure me, she would know how to make my body sing, to wring me dry and make me ache with need…” A smile flickered across his mouth. “Does your lover do all that?”

Moving away from him, she drew the covers to her breasts.

“Does he?” Kell repeated, his tone curious.

“Yes,” Raven replied defensively. “He does all that and more. He not only gives me pleasure, he makes me feel cherished, desired. As if I am the only woman in the world.”

Kell raised an eyebrow but his measuring gaze was entirely serious. “Is that every woman’s secret fantasy? To be cherished?”

“I wouldn’t know about other women’s fantasies,” Raven replied, deploring the turn their conversation had taken. “But I am perfectly content with mine.”

“Still, I should think the real thing would be more satisfying. An image can’t fill you like a flesh and blood man can. He can’t stroke your nipples like this…”

When Kell caressed her breast, Raven jerked back, away from his sensual touch. “Perhaps not, but neither does he incite a desire in me to commit mayhem, as you do.”

Kell’s lips pursed in a frown. “I confess, I don’t like the thought of you seeking pleasure from your fantasy lover.”

She gave him a sharp look of disbelief. “You cannot possibly be jealous of a fantasy.”

“No? How do you think a man feels when his lover…his wife…constantly dreams about another man? It arouses a primitive male instinct to do battle.”

Raven gave a sigh of exasperation. “It is not a contest, Kell.”

“What if I were to make it one?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Never mind. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

He shut his eyes as if prepared to do just that, but Raven made a sound of protest in her throat. “Kell…I think you should sleep in your own bedchamber tonight.”

His eyes opened. “Sleeping together is too intimate, is that your assumption?”

“Yes. We agreed merely to carnal relations, nothing more.”

“Very well,” he said easily, surprising her. “If you insist…”

Rising from the bed, he scooped up his dressing gown and shrugged into it. Then he bent and pulled the covers up over her shoulders, tucking her in. “Sweet dreams, vixen.”

He didn’t seem at all angry that she had ordered him from her bed. Instead he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple and left the room.

Raven frowned, somewhat bewildered and more than a little suspicious that he had been so accommodating.

Had she questioned him, however, Kell would not have told her his intent. It would be foolish to rekindle Raven’s resistance by revealing his plans.

He was set on taking over her fantasies.

Her decided preference for her dream lover had roused his new resolve. Irrationally or not, it incensed Kell that Raven had another lover, however illusory. Whether driven by male pride or simple jealousy, he wanted to be the only man in her life. He intended to be the only man in her life.

It would be a challenge, but he meant to win her away from her imaginary lover.

He came to her the next night and every night that week. They made love with passionate abandon, but Raven always insisted that Kell return to his own bedchamber. She was willing to give him her body, but nothing more intimate.

It disturbed her, however, that the line between Kell and her fantasy lover was becoming more and more blurred-and never more so than when Kell escorted her to a brothel.

Merely his offer surprised her.

“I think it’s time we furthered your education and introduced you to some genuine fantasies,” he said as they lay in bed after a particularly intense bout of lovemaking.

“What do you mean?” Raven murmured, enjoying the warmth of Kell’s hard body as she lay curled against him.

“Madame Fouchet’s salon is the most elegant sin club in London. It specializes in some unique pleasures of the flesh and excels at fulfilling fantasies. I mean to take you there. It will be an experience I doubt your imaginary lover could give you.”

Raising her head from his shoulder, Raven eyed Kell skeptically. “All this time I have been attempting to salvage my reputation, and you expect me to comport with you at a brothel?”

“Your reputation seems to be repairing itself well enough. And as a matron, you are no longer bound by the same restrictions you once were.”

“Even so…”

“Where is your spirit of adventure, love? Haven’t you conformed to propriety long enough?”

Raven had to admit that the forbidden allure of a brothel held an unmistakable appeal. Two nights later she found herself accompanying Kell up the steps of Madame Fouchet’s house of pleasure.

They were admitted to an antechamber by a majordomo and greeted by Madame Fouchet, who expressed delight at their patronage.

“All is arranged as you asked, Monsieur Lasseter,” the Frenchwoman said. “My house is yours. You have only to ring for whatever you require.”

“Thank you, madame.”

“I shall leave you to your pleasures, then.”

With a bow, she disappeared through a rear door, leaving Raven alone with Kell.

He led her through another door to a long hallway, explaining as he went. “The rooms on this floor are used for group affairs, but there are a number of bedchambers above that provide more seclusion.”

Raven noticed the quiet and suspected that it was unusual. “There seems to be no one else here.”