“If that’s the case, they’d probably fall asleep.”
He stopped moving, and she made a face.
“I’ll withdraw that remark if you’ll just get on with it and prove what a spectacular lover you are supposed to be.”
He added another finger and continued his slow thrust and withdrawal until she was writhing against the sheets in a most satisfactory manner.
“Was there something you wished to say to me, Carenza?” He brushed his thumb against her clit with just enough pressure to pleasure her but not enough to let her come. “I am more than willing to listen to you beg.”
“Fine.” She glared at him. “You win.”
“I always do, ma’am, but that’s not what I want to hear from you right now.” He smiled sympathetically at her. “I know that you have impeccable manners when you choose to use them.”
He allowed his gaze to sweep over the curve of her hips, the gentle roundness of her stomach, and her glorious bosom, as if he really could get up and leave her. Did she not realize the power she had over him? Was it too late for him to pretend that his emotions, damn them, were not already fully engaged?
She worried her lower lip, her eyes locked on his, and seemed to come to a decision. “Please fuck me, Julian.”
His wave of relief at her words was quickly followed by a roar of purely male satisfaction. He fell on her like a starving man, the hard length of his cock pressing deep as she climaxed with an almighty scream. He shut out everything but the feel of her gripping his cock as he kept thrusting, pushing her to new heights and himself to a level of physical satisfaction he’d never known before. There was no finesse, no consideration of his partner, just a mutual fight to reach completion that allowed for no surrender.
He came eventually, he had to, but not before he’d made Carenza climax half a dozen times, her words reduced simply to screaming his name and God’s—not that he compared himself to the Almighty, but he certainly felt like a king.
He rolled off her and buried his face in the pillow, his body so replete he wanted to sleep for a week and then wake up and do it all again. She sighed and turned on her side, one of her arms coming across his waist.
“You’ve worn me out.” Julian kissed the top of her head.
“Good, because I will be sore for days,” Carenza grumbled. “How I’m supposed to get up, get dressed, and go back home, I don’t know.”
“You could stay,” Julian offered.
“Here?” She sighed. “You know that’s not possible.”
“Who would know?”
“We were seen leaving the theater together, Julian. If it gets out that I never went home, people will talk.”
A niggling sense of disquiet made him come up on one elbow and look down at her. “Am I that distasteful to you?”
“What?”
“That the mere idea of society thinking we are lovers makes you afraid to be seen in my company?”
She eased away from him. “That’s not fair. We agreed—”
“We agreed to be lovers.”
“And to bediscreet.” Carenza sat up, her arms crossed over her bosom.
“Which brings me back to my original question.” Julian wasn’t quite sure why he was continuing to argue, but he didn’t seem able to stop. “I’m not ashamed of being your lover.”
“And I’m not ashamed of you!” Carenza moved to the side of the bed, reclaimed her stockings, and began to roll them back on her legs, her movements jerky. “Why are you being so unpleasant?”
“I’m merely …”
She looked over at him. “I’m trying to protectyourreputation, you idiot.”
“Mine?” Julian raised his eyebrows. “What foolery is this?”
She left the bed, wincing as her feet hit the floor, and hurried over to the pile of clothes by the fire. He pulled on his breeches and joined her.
