One Wicked Wish by Anna Campbell

Chapter 12

Stella didn’t find it so easy to shake off her reaction to those surprising, heartbreaking revelations about the emotional desert Gray lived in. During her time in England, she wouldn’t have been human without an occasional lapse into self-pity. But looking back, she knew she’d been loved. More, she’d loved in return. Even now, while her uncle didn’t even pretend to love her, Imogen did.

Yet Gray seemed to have grown up without as much as a hint of unconditional affection. Something in his tone when he mentioned his mother told her that while he mightn’t love her now, he’d loved her as a child. Her neglect had hurt him badly.

As the conversation continued, Gray looked more and more hunted. He hadn’t enjoyed giving her that glimpse into his inner life. In fact, he’d found the whole process excruciating.

What was also clear was that he had plans for the rest of the night. Plans that focused on physical sensation alone. He meant to ignore anything that might taint the glamorous, careless picture he presented to the world.

Goodness, the picture had convinced her, hadn’t it? Just as it was designed to.

Gray had hated revealing his vulnerability. He’d feared that she’d think less of him because he wasn’t quite the dashing, uncomplicated libertine he pretended to be.

The problem was that while Stella found the handsome, heartless rake irresistible, it was the man deriding love who tugged at her heart.

When he’d told her that dismal story of loneliness and alienation, she longed to take him in her arms and comfort him, to tell him he wasn’t alone, that she was here with him.

Good heavens, what a catastrophe that would have been. He’d abhorred even the small portion of pity that she couldn’t hide. Worse, the depth of her compassion warned her that when she said he’d be easy to love, she wasn’t speaking in the abstract. Plague take him, she was already half in love with the scoundrel.

That wasn’t the plan at all.

Stella had agreed to this affair to steal some sensual delight from a life that offered nothing but grim duty. A few days in a rake’s arms when she’d gather some nice memories to warm the cold nights to come.

Yet already her foolish heart begged for more. When Gray offered to make her his mistress, she’d almost said yes. Although she knew in her soul that she wasn’t made to be a kept woman. Even aside from issues like Imogen’s reputation.

The Earl of Halston was a complex man and not altogether an easy one. She just had to recall his unconcealed horror after making that inadvertent remark about staying with her forever. Lord Halston was a renowned seducer and a wild man about town – and as skittish as a half-broken colt at the prospect of anything hinting at emotional involvement.

His expression now as he drew Stella into his arms in the opulent bedroom told her without words that the moment for confidences had passed.

She went willingly. The memory of that shattering climax still made her tremble. She and Niccolo had both been inexperienced when they came together, although they soon discovered the path to delight. But even those sweet recollections couldn’t compare to the volcanic reactions Gray had drawn from her body tonight.

If Gray meant to devote his next hours to more of the same, she’d accept that. Even while some silly, yearning part of her mourned his retreat from genuine closeness.

Under lowered eyelids, her hazy vision took in her surroundings. Another fire burned in the grate, and a candelabra in the corner provided light. But this room wasn’t as bright as the sitting room, and the atmosphere was more intimate.

Behind Gray loomed the huge bed. The covers were turned down, revealing crisp white sheets and mounds of plump pillows.

Soon she’d lie under him in that bed. Anticipation tasted more delicious than champagne. After their explosive encounter against the wall, she shouldn’t be so desperate to have him inside her again. But that first union only made her avid for the next. And the one after that.

Stella couldn’t stifle a futile wish for the night to last forever.

Gray’s kiss was hot as fire and told her that he still thirsted after her. He conquered her mouth with a ruthlessness that made her quake with wicked excitement. He used his lips and tongue and teeth on her until she sagged, panting with surrender.

He brushed aside her peignoir. For the first time, his headlong seduction paused. “You’re not wearing your nightdress.”

“It was…it was stained,” she stammered.

“Damn fool idea to buy you a nightdress at all.” At the sight of her bare breasts, his smile turned pantherish. “Let’s burn the rag.”

A gasp of horrified laughter escaped. “You will not burn it. It’s beautiful.”

And the most extravagant piece of clothing she’d ever owned. From the moment she put it on, she’d felt like a princess. If perhaps a princess offered as tribute to an enemy invader.

He took his time arousing her, until her nipples ached and desire churned in her stomach. When at last he took one crest in his mouth, she gave a broken cry and buried her hands in his hair to bring him nearer.

He cupped her breasts. They fit his elegant hands, but old insecurity gnawed at her, especially when she thought about the other women he’d tupped. “I’m not blessed with abundant curves.”

Another of those big cat smiles lengthened his lips and sent a thrill skittering along her spine. “You’re just the right shape.”

As if to prove it, he placed a kiss on the not particularly mountainous swell of flesh. Stella started with pleasure and arched forward. When he drew on her nipple, a hot wire of sensation snaked down into her clenching womb. She moaned and hooked her hands over his sinewy shoulders as her legs threatened to crumple.

Through his trousers, his rod pressed into her stomach. Frantic to give him the same pleasure he gave her, she fumbled at the fastenings on his trousers. He made a soft growl of approval and teased her nipple with his teeth. She was so het up that she whimpered, and her attempts to uncover him became even more inept.

All this bumping and rubbing made her blood pump. She knew it agitated Gray, too. He groaned with audible agony against her skin and lifted his head.

His eyes were brilliant, and the skin clung to the chiseled bones of his face. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”

Stella gave a muffled laugh. “No, I’m trying to undo your trousers, but my hands won’t cooperate.”

“Let me help.”

His hands weren’t as deft as usual either. But in the end, he managed to push down his trousers and step out of them. On shaky legs, she stepped back to survey his nakedness. Their hunger for each other had been so overwhelming the first time, that neither had stopped to shed their clothes.

The breath jammed in her throat, and her racing pulse made her head swim. She’d called him beautiful. She’d had no idea.

Avid eyes drank him in. Tall, perfectly proportioned, muscled where he should be muscled, lean where he should be lean, he dazzled her. She hid a pained wince at the sight of the scar on his shoulder. He didn’t want her pity for that either.

Stella surveyed the broad shoulders, the powerful chest, and the way curling dark hair accentuated his pectorals. That hair drew into a dark line leading down to his erect penis.

When he moved inside her, she’d known he was large. The sensation of being stretched to her limits had been both uncomfortable and rapturous. Now her gaze focused on that impressive column of flesh that emerged from a nest of black hair between his strong, horseman’s thighs. Deep feminine wonder stole her ability to speak.

She licked her lips and imagined tasting him down there, where he was most a man. She and Niccolo had experimented along those lines, and he’d loved what she’d done to him.

“Stella?” he asked, although he must realize how his nakedness affected her.

Why wait? She had mere days to accomplish a lifetime’s worth of sin.

She stepped forward and dropped to her knees. Trembling hands cradled the heavy sacs, then she shaped her fingers to his virile power. By heaven, he was so hot. Male potency filled her hand and her senses. His musky scent was more intoxicating than wine, as addictive as opium.

His breath emerged in ragged spurts. When she fisted her hand around him and began to move it up and down, he groaned again and tilted his hips forward. “Don’t…stop.”

Gray gazed down at her with a hunger that was as clear as if it was written in a book in front of her. But she guessed he wouldn’t ask her to go further.

Lucky for him, he didn’t need to ask. She firmed her grip and took the tip between her lips. The rich taste of his skin flooded her mouth. When she swept her tongue across him, he jerked in response.

“Stella…” he grated out, tangling his hands in her hair.

She took more of him, delighting in his salty flavor. Her tongue traced the veined hardness, as her hand squeezed the base in a suggestive rhythm.

He’d been big when she uncovered him. Under her brazen attentions, he grew even larger. How she loved knowing that she could arouse him like this.

A haze of delight enveloped her. She lost all connection to anything but the way that she tormented Gray.

When he shifted back, a soft mew of disappointment escaped her. He caught her head between his hands and angled her face up. With erotic languor, she traced the shape of her lips with her tongue.

Her eyes didn’t waver from his. He needed to see that she wanted this.

“You don’t have to.” His voice emerged as rough as gravel.

His features were tense, and his pupils dilated so wide that the green was a thin ring around them. He was close to losing himself. After their tumultuous first union, she recognized the signs.

“I want to.” Stella’s voice was low and thick. “So much. Please don’t deny me.”

He closed his eyes and spoke as if he was in pain. “I shouldn’t.”

Her tone became more urgent. “I want to taste your seed, Gray. I want to take you inside me like this because…because I can’t take you any other way.” To confirm her eagerness, she tightened her grip and squeezed his entire length. She glanced down to see a drop of pearly liquid glistening on the tip.

Her passionate plea made his eyes flare, and a muscle danced in his lean cheek. “You give me too much.”

It was a tacit acceptance. Smiling, she bent to lick the sensitive head. She took him again, sucking hard. With a muttered curse, Gray dug his fingers into her scalp. He moved her head, setting up a driving rhythm that stirred her.

She clasped his hard buttocks and felt him go taut, before he yielded to her on a long, guttural moan. He jerked again and flooded her mouth. She swallowed everything he gave her, and when he pulled free, they were both gasping.

“Dear God, you’re superb,” he growled and hauled Stella up to kiss her until she couldn’t see straight.

They collapsed into a chair near the fire, with her curled up on his lap. His chest heaved as he regained his breath. She wriggled to gather her peignoir about her, then closed her eyes and rested against him, enjoying the gentle circles his hand made against her back.

“Shall we continue?” he murmured.

“Yes, please.” She rose and stood back so he could follow her up. With a few urgent tugs, he released the belt of the peignoir and pushed it off. Her skin was so sensitive that the slide of her robe felt like a caress.

Now it was her turn to stand naked with a new lover. His face conveyed awe and an earthy appreciation that shouldn’t sit together, but did so well that Stella forgot all her niggling dissatisfactions with her long, athletic body. Gray’s riveted expression told her that he had no complaints about her being tall and lean rather than the rounded fashionable ideal.

“I was wrong. Superb doesn’t do you justice.” He stepped back to survey her. Admiration deepened his voice to a velvety rumble that made every hair on her skin rise in response. “Come to bed, sweetheart. Let me show you pleasure like you’ve never known.”

Stella shook back her tumble of hair. “You’ve already done that.”

Heavy lids descended over fierce eyes, making him look far too appealing. “We’ve only just started.”

He caught her waist and swung her around until the back of her knees hit the bed. After a gentle push, she landed flat on the sheets. A huff of surprise emerged, then she drew him down to kneel over her. More kisses, more breathtaking caresses, more incoherent sighs of appreciation, as he learned the shape of her body.

After an extended interval of delight, Gray rolled to the side and leaned on one elbow. His glowing eyes ranged across her with a heated possessiveness that sparked needy throbbing in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s my turn to return the favor,” he murmured. He stroked her midriff, igniting heat wherever he touched.

“Oh…” Stella parted her legs to lure him to touch her where she ached.

The searching passion in Gray’s kiss made her toes curl against the bed linens. Still kissing her, he began to explore the hollows of her body. Her gasp was full of wonder and encouragement, and she encircled his arm with one hand to anchor herself in a reeling world.

When his thumb found the secret nub, he brushed it over and over. A surge of female response drenched his fingers and made him purr with approval. He raised his head to watch her reaction to these intimate touches.

Pleasure rose inside Stella until she writhed against the sheets. As every muscle in her body convulsed in ecstasy, her nails dug into his arm. Then while she still quivered, he moved his fingers inside her. Before she’d recovered from her last climax, she set off once more on the feverish ascent to bliss. This time when she crossed the barrier, she flew apart in a thousand flaming embers.

With two of his fingers curling against her still clenching inner walls, he kissed her. Voracious, open-mouthed passion that heightened her pleasure.

“Gray, you…you overwhelm me,” she panted. “Let me catch my breath.”

She released his arm and stretched out her fingers to relieve the stiffness. That last climax had ripped through every cell in her body like a whirlwind.

“You?” The lazy pleasure in his smile melted her heart into a sugary mess. “You’re made of sturdier stuff than you think.”

With a slowness that was a caress in itself, he slid free of her. Then her heart gave a great crash when he raised his fingers to his lips and licked them. Sensual appreciation lit his face as he took his time.

Stella lay shaking against the sheets as the emptiness inside her expanded to a huge, gaping space. Only Gray could answer this yearning.

Her legs sprawled across the bed. She swore they’d turned into wet string. God help her if there was a fire and she needed to make a run for it. Except, she thought with sly humor, there was a fire. It burned like an inferno inside her, and every touch of Gray’s hands stoked it higher.

He showed definite signs of recovery. She reached for him but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. “Let me pleasure you.”

She frowned. “You have pleasured me.”

“There’s more.”

Under her wondering gaze, he slid down in the bed and settled between her legs.

“You want to look at me?” Her voice vibrated with uncertainty.

“Oh, yes,” he said as if he spoke a prayer.

After he’d tasted her on his fingers, what he did next shouldn’t astonish her. But when he lifted her hips and placed his mouth on her sex, she cried out.

“Gray…”

Her hands fisted in the sheets as heat engulfed her. The heat of embarrassment, and the heat of arousal. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could see him.

With unhidden reluctance, he raised his head. “Don’t you like this?”

She read craving in his burning eyes. “I…I don’t know.”

Satisfaction tinged his smile. “This is new to you?”

“It seems…rather strange.”

Rather strange?It seemed like the outer edges of depravity.

“You did this for me.”

“It’s not quite the same.”

“Perhaps not. But nice, for all that.” His smile widened. “Will you let me show you?”

After a moment, she nodded. Speaking actual words was beyond her.

“Thank you.”

Her heart somersaulting with nerves, she lay back and closed her eyes. She didn’t think she could bear to watch him do this extraordinary thing.

For a long time, nothing happened. She had a mortifying suspicion that he lingered to take in every private inch. She’d known that he’d use her body tonight, but she hadn’t realized that things would become quite so intimate.

His grip on her hips tightened, and he tilted her higher. “Is this uncomfortable?”

“Do you count dying of embarrassment?”

A grunt of laughter was the response. “I mean is this hurting your back? If it does, I can position you another way.”

It was her turn for a brief laugh. “Can you indeed?”

“Or I can save this variation until next time I kiss your quim.”

Next time? She wasn’t even sure she’d survive this time. Even more embarrassing, sinful curiosity demanded to know how his mouth would feel on her sex.

“No, please, go ahead,” she said with ironic politeness.

She opened dazed eyes and stared up at the elaborate plaster roundels on the ceiling. Another batch of sulky unicorns sneered down at her. No wonder. What happened in this bed was too brazen to believe.

Gray’s mouth descended to her cleft. Her ability to see anything at all deserted her.

Molten pleasure streamed through her and made her judder, as his mouth explored the delicate folds. His tongue fluttered and tasted and enticed. Her grip on the sheets tightened until her hands hurt. Above her thundering pulse, she heard her rasping breath as Gray lit her world with vermilion.

With a tattered cry, she tipped over the edge into a fiery universe. She rode the spasms of pleasure, then realized Gray again stroked her with intent, even as she quaked and moaned.

It took a huge effort to lift her head. He appeared very pleased with himself. He also looked as if he struggled not to jump on top of her.

“I can’t…”

“Of course you can.” His smile held a definite tinge of self-satisfaction. “You liked it?”

She gave a wry laugh, although delight still radiated through her and speaking tested her limits. “You know I did.”

“Excellent.”

“But have a little mercy. I’m only human. “

His smile widened. “Deliciously human.”

He dipped his head to kiss her between the legs, and her protest died unspoken as pleasure that had barely ebbed coiled anew.

By the time she drifted down to earth again, tears ran down her cheeks and her lungs hurt with the effort of filling them.

Gray watched her with an arrested expression. At least he wasn’t looking at her sex, but she wasn’t sure she liked the calculating light she read in his eyes.

He released her hips and wiped his mouth. The deliberate gesture made her shiver. She’d imagined that she knew what it was like for two ardent lovers to unite. It turned out that she was a complete novice.

With a powerful surge, he slid up her body to kiss her mouth. The salty taste on his lips was her. She shivered again. The act seemed so intimate.

And yet…

His hands slid down to stroke her swollen folds and despite her exhaustion, warmth stirred anew. This time, though, she stiffened and rolled away. “Gray, stop.”

Supporting himself on one arm, he leaned over her. “What’s wrong?”

She stared into his face and struggled to define what worried her. “You don’t have to do this.”

He frowned. “I want to. I love to please you.”

She swallowed to moisten a dry throat that hurt after she’d cried out at her peak. When Gray said he wanted to make her scream, he’d meant it. “You do please me.”

“But?”

Stella feared what she was about to say might anger or even hurt him. Tonight she’d discovered quite how touchy his pride was. “I feel…I feel like you’re trying to prove something.”

His brows lowered further. “That we’re perfect together.”

“We are.” She touched his cheek. The first moment of genuine sweetness since he’d set out to conquer her with rapture, she realized with a shock. “Because we are, you don’t have to work so hard to convince me that you’re the invincible rake, impervious to feeling.”

Stella now realized just why she’d asked him to stop. It was because Gray used his sexual expertise to banish any recollection of his reluctant, harrowing confessions about his childhood.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, although he avoided her gaze and that telltale muscle jerked in his cheek, betraying his discomfort.

“Do you know what I liked best tonight?”

Displeasure tightened his lips, and he shifted away until they no longer touched. “Well, at least there’s something.”

She took an awful risk. Mustering her courage, she continued. “I liked it best when you pushed me up against the wall.”

“I was a barbarian.” Self-disgust edged his voice. “I did nothing to prepare you. I didn’t even linger to make sure you found your pleasure.”

“I did.” She made herself continue. “I liked that you weren’t thinking. I liked that I was your partner and not your toy.”

Stella swallowed once more, hoping that what she said didn’t destroy his interest in her. Because even after a few hours, she knew that she’d hate it if he denied her his sensual skills.

But then, she wasn’t talking about his sensual skills. Those were never in doubt. She was talking about emotional connection. A connection he found as troubling as she did.

Before he could protest, she rushed ahead. “Gray, knowing that life has left you with one or two scars doesn’t stop me wanting and admiring you. The reverse. I want to hold a real man in my arms, a man with hopes and joys and sorrows.”

Although his gaze was steady, she couldn’t interpret his response. Was she insane to complain about a man willing to devote himself to her satisfaction with such single-minded dedication?

Stella dared to go on. “You said earlier tonight that I don’t have to hide myself from you.” She sucked in a shaky breath and forced herself to finish, whatever the risk. “I want you to understand that you don’t have to hide yourself from me either.”