If You Desire

Chapter Twenty-three

Hugh gazed in awe as she suddenly arched her back, hands clutching the sheets.

Without thought, he set four fingers on her, cupping and rubbing her sex fast, mouth sucking greedily on her nipple to make it stronger for her. With his other hand, he snatched up her gown so he could watch her body twisting with pleasure.

She gave a breathy cry that made his cock jerk painfully in answer, and her knees fell wide open. In utter abandon, she rocked her hips against his hand, over and over, until the tension left her.

Trembling, she fell back onto the arm he'd draped behind her, lying docile and open as he slowly continued to pet her flesh.

He couldn't catch his breath. The sight of his fingertips against the wet auburn curls at her sex…He was going to lose his seed right in his trousers.

She leaned up to bury her face against his neck. To his disbelief, she whispered how much she loved his touch.His touch. After a decade fantasizing about it, he'd made her come.

And it was the most incredible experience he'd ever had.

Her breaths were warm and quick, and between her words, she gave his neck little licks that made his cock grow impossibly hotter and harder.

At that moment, spending in his pants did not strike him as a bad idea.

He inwardly shook himself and pulled away, but she'd looped her soft arms around his neck and eased a knee up beside his waist.

"Hugh, what about you? Won't you stay with me?" She tugged gently, until he allowed himself to settle his hips between her thighs.

She wanted him to come as well? Could he drag himself away? Not when she undulated her bared sex against him. Impossible. He was burning to free himself and sink into her slick heat, desperate to ride her mindlessly, finally taking what he'd needed for so long.

Instead, when she did that sensual roll of her hips again, he tentatively thrust back against her. She sucked in a breath.

"Dinna hurt you?" he choked out.

When she said, "No, darling, no," he leaned up and found his hand shooting between them to rip open the fastening of his trousers. He shoved his pants down to his thighs, baring his cock, so that it hung down over her.

They were both breathing heavily, staring at where their bodies almost touched. Their flesh was so close. Her eyes were half-lidded as she stared at his shaft, at the slick head. As if in a dream, he watched as she rolled her hips again, seeking him. He put his straightened arms on each side of her, holding himself up, sweating with the effort not to take her.

He knew he couldn't have her, even when it felt so right to be here with her like this. He was awash in how right it felt. Yet, unable to stop himself, he pressed his own hips down. Lower, so slowly, until his shaft grazed against her swollen little clitoris.

His eyes rolled back in his head.

She gave a cry and another undulation that nearly put his cockhead inside her, ending everything. One of his hands shot to her hip to pin her down, then he pressed his shaft harder against her mound. He stayed there, letting it throb against her. Where his control came from, he had no idea. He only knew he had to stretch out every second, to make it last the rest of his life.

But when she reached eager hands forward to grasp him, he grabbed her wrists, knowing he'd come before her last finger had wrapped around his shaft. "Put your arms over your head, Sìne." She let them fall above her. "Keep them there for me." She nodded, as if she understood his struggle.

Soon the urge to thrust grew overwhelming. He obeyed it, pushing slowly over her sex, slipping up to her flat belly, then back, a near-constant groan rising from his chest. With his position and the movement, he was close to being inside her, as close as he would ever allow himself to get. Her cries would be the same—as would the way she was gazing up at him when she spread her legs wider and whispered, "Oh, God! Yes, Hugh!"

He savored even this agonizing pressure. Another slow push over her sex.

"Jane," he groaned. Each time his shaft slid over her, he could feel his sack tightening until it ground against her wetness too. She made some unintelligible sound at the contact.

The pleasure was too great. He was going to come, and he was going to come hard.

He dropped his head and rasped, "Arch your back for me. Have tae taste you again." When she rushed to do so, he sucked her nipple between his lips, then tugged it with his teeth until she moaned.

Was she telling him she was about to come again? He'd make her. He'd hold on until she did once more.

The pressure had nearly turned to pain when she cried out his name and thrashed beneath him in her orgasm.

Lost, he ground himself determinedly up and back against her. "Ah, God, Sìne, I have tae…come," he groaned, beginning to ejaculate. He gave a brutal yell each time the hard spurts lashed across her belly…over and over until he'd finally emptied his seed.

His body wracked with after-shudders, he sank onto his elbows with hoarse exhalations of breath against her damp neck.

He couldn't believe he'd been thrusting over her like that. He closed his eyes in shame—he'd spilled his seed on her.

Drawing away, he tucked his sensitive shaft back into his pants, then rose to grab a towel. When he returned he couldn't bear to look at her, even as he wiped her skin and pulled her gown into place. He tossed the towel away and sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Never had he felt so ashamed, so low. How was he going to face her tomorrow? Didn't matter, he'd have to.

No matter how badly he needed to leave, they couldn't be separated.

"Jane, I doona know what happened. I'm sorry." He should be humiliated to be near her, and yet it was she he wanted to be with in the face of his shame—so that he didn't have to take it alone. It was enough to drive any man mad.

"There's nothing to apologize for." She sat up on her knees behind him. "Nothing."

"No, I should have had more control."

"Hugh," she murmured, rubbing his back, "it's just me, remember? It's just your Jane. We were always comfortable around each other."

"This should no' have happened," he insisted.

Just when he'd decided to rise, she said, "Stay. Sleep with me, please." She coaxed with light touches and soft words until he somehow found himself out of his pants and in bed with her. When he'd resigned himself to staying like this, he drew her back to his chest, his arms smoothly crossing over her as if he'd locked her against him thousands of times before.

As he'd imagined that last summer again and again, she was finally naked in his bed. He'd stared at this very ceiling and fantasized about touching her, kissing her. He'd dreamed of holding her as she slept.

The reality was so much more. He'd known he would love the scent of her hair. He hadn't known he would want to groan and shove a handful to his face. Or that he would realize her hair was long enough to brush his legs if she threw her head back while she rode him.

He'd known he would love the feel of her, but he hadn't realized how round her arse would be or that it fit like a puzzle piece to his lap.

"No more nightmares, Hugh," she whispered drowsily. "Or we'll have to do that again."

He already wanted to dothat again, was even now growing hard against her bottom. When she sighed in contentment, he frowned as he tried to recall how he'd ever thought living with her was bad.