One Wicked Wish by Anna Campbell
Chapter 15
Stella arranged herself face down on the bed, with her head resting on her folded arms and her rump hoisted in the air. She was naked and felt rather silly. But three nights of blissful debauchery had taught her that if Gray suggested a variation – and it turned out he knew an impressive number of ways to tup a willing lover – it was worthwhile cooperating.
“Hurry before I drown in embarrassment,” she said in a muffled voice.
“I’m just enjoying the view,” he said from behind her. She couldn’t see him, but she could imagine the smile on his face. She heard it in his voice.
“You’re a devil, Gray,” she said without force.
He laughed. “I’m your devil.”
Yes, he was. For this week, at least. Tonight as he’d taken her to heaven over and over, she’d had to try increasingly hard to ignore the grim fact that after this, only one more night remained to them.
When they’d danced together, it had been difficult enough to remember that one waltz was all they’d ever have. After all these hours of rapture, time was her enemy.
No, she refused to ruin her remaining hours with Gray. She’d have years to weep and rage and yearn, once she went back to London.
The mattress sagged as Gray shifted. She gave a start as his hands caught her hips. Then melting tenderness seeped through her when he kissed the cheeks of her buttocks. Melting tenderness that came to an abrupt end when he bit her.
She cried out and pushed back in protest. “Ouch.”
It was just a nip, and the sting tightened her inner muscles in a spasm of longing. Which was mad when he’d been inside her twice already tonight. One turbulent union on the sitting room floor when he couldn’t last the few extra steps to the bedroom. A second time here in this bed, when he rocked inside her with such slow care that she felt as if time stopped.
If only time would stop.
No, she wouldn’t think about that.
“Spread your legs for me.” His gruff command betrayed his growing excitement.
Stella shifted to accommodate him. He kissed the small of her back. Who knew that was such a sensitive spot? But she’d come to realize that when desire was this powerful, everything Gray did was likely to set her off.
His hand traced her cleft until she shuddered in reaction. He caught her hips again and held her still while he pressed forward.
Her body had adjusted to accept his size, although she still thrilled at the snug fit. But this change in position tested her anew.
She released a low moan and edged back to take more. With a grunt of approval, he advanced to the end of his thrust. With a cry, she gripped him hard.
Every time she thought she’d scaled the last peak of pleasure, Gray showed her that whole mountain ranges extended ahead. This position, which had an inevitable touch of a stallion mounting a mare, reached parts of her she hadn’t even known were there.
“Are you all right?” His words emerged in jerky starts.
Her deep breath changed the pressure inside her. “I like this.”
His laugh sounded hard-won, and the vibrations heightened her arousal. “I thought you might.” He curved over her to fondle her breasts. “You might want to hold onto the baseboard.”
She obeyed and angled her bottom higher. This time, the movement made her see stars. Then the stars burst into a conflagration, as he withdrew then plunged again with none of his initial gentleness. Each time his full length rammed inside her, he reached a secret place that sent volcanic sensation flooding through her. Within a miraculously short time, she was shaking and panting.
Gray continued until another, even more astonishing climax overcame her. She felt battered with pleasure. Lightning struck her from every direction. Her breath emerged in broken sobs, as her hands clung to the baseboard.
By the time he pulled free to lose himself in the sheets, every muscle was quivering. Her thighs gave up supporting her, and she collapsed face down on the bed.
“I think I died that time,” she said, her voice hoarse. She rolled over and draped a boneless arm over his chest.
“I said you’d like it,” he said, sounding as exhausted as she did.
As her heartbeat slowed, Gray straightened the tangle of hair that spread around her. Through all their wild encounters, he’d kept his word and pulled free before his orgasm. Some nitwit part of Stella regretted that. It seemed such a lonely way for him to finish, when the rest of the journey was a union of equals.
But even at the height of her pleasure, she kept a faltering grip on prudence. A baby would be a disaster, even if in the few hours’ sleep she managed to snatch back in her own bed, she dreamed of children with Gray’s green eyes and flashing smile.
Each time, she woke with tears on her face and an aching emptiness inside her.
Gray shifted closer and hauled her into his arms. She inhaled his scent, hoping to imprint it on her memory forever.
Stella pressed her back against his chest and rested her head on his upper arm. They lay together in sweet intimacy. Stella might even have dozed for a few seconds. It had been a long night, and she hadn’t slept much these last four nights. She didn’t want to lose even a minute of their time together.
She stirred to the brush of his lips on her neck and the sound of a blackbird trilling outside. Time hadn’t stopped. It was almost morning.
“I hate that bird,” she said in a drowsy murmur, shifting her head to give him access to her throat.
“So do I.” He rose over her and kissed her lips with a languorous pleasure that acknowledged the joy they’d shared.
When Gray raised his head, Stella’s arms curled around his waist. He settled between her legs and her knees rose on either side of him. “Do you want me to go outside and throw a rock at it?”
“No.” She stroked his back. “I want you to stay right where you are.”
He rubbed against her. Her eyes widened, as she stared into that remarkable face. “You can’t possibly.”
Self-mockery curved his lips, and his eyes glinted down at her with deepening interest. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
He cut off her laugh with another kiss before he slid forward to fill her again. Her fingers ran up and down his back, feeling the rhythmic bunch and release of his muscles. A rhythm that echoed the glide of his body in hers.
This time, his possession was gentle, although she was soon shaking and gasping through an extended climax that dissolved every bone in her body into syrup.
“Let me finish you,” she choked out, when his muscles hardened under her palms.
Gray groaned his cooperation and turned onto his back. She straddled his narrow hips and took his penis in her hands. After their nights together, she knew just how to please him.
He was so close that he soon spilled into her fist. She loved the way he gave himself up to her. Still holding him, she dipped to kiss the head of his rod. He made a weary sound deep in his throat and ruffled her hair. She sighed, and for a moment rested her cheek on his hard thigh, before she rose and went through to the dressing room to wash.
When she emerged, she wore the crumpled silk nightdress. She’d managed to launder it in secret. Although how she’d managed to keep it away from Imogen’s curious eyes, she had no idea.
Gray propped himself against the pillows. The sheet covered him to the waist, revealing that sculpted chest with its light dusting of black hair.
He was such a beautiful man. Stella was always aware of how handsome he was. But sometimes, like now, his male attractions stabbed her like a knife.
Her gaze fixed on the raised welt where the bullet had struck him. Every time she saw the scar, her heart lurched. If his hysterical mistress had been a better shot, Stella would never have had these precious days with him. The idea of all his beauty and vitality consigned to the grave made her nauseous.
His eyes were somber. “You’re going?”
Stella curled her hand around the bedpost to stop herself from reaching for him again. “I must.”
The blackbird had woken up his avian friends. With every minute, the chirping rose. It was still dark, but the sun would soon be up. Over these last days, Stella felt as if her life only started once darkness fell. Everything in between just filled up the hours until she could be with Gray again.
“Let me come with you.”
She shook her head. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“I haven’t.”
She waved toward the ruin of the bed. “Stay and catch a little sleep.”
“I don’t want to let you go, even for the few minutes it takes you to go back to your room.”
Her heart, already so heavy with the weight of joy and sorrow, squeezed tight. Since their first day in the country, he hadn’t mentioned setting her up as his mistress. Perhaps he’d lost interest in the idea. But every instinct, everything she knew of this man who had given her such joy, told her that he bided his time before he revisited the subject.
“Let me go, Gray.” The request covered more than an announcement of her departure.
His expression told her that he didn’t mean to accept anything but complete surrender. Stella turned away, too overwrought right now to start an argument. With unsteady hands, she lit a candle and released the catch to the secret door.
She was in a hurry to get away. She had a horrible feeling that she might cry. Once she started crying, when would she stop?
Fumbling, she shut the door behind her and made her way along the corridor. Was Imogen the only houseguest to hear “rats” in the fabric of the house? Despite everything, Stella muffled a laugh. Imogen had been so horrified at the idea.
By the time she reached the door to her room, Stella had settled down. She had one more night with Gray. She shouldn’t bemoan the fact that she’d never lie in his arms again. Rather, she should remember how glorious these last nights had been. The affair might be short, but while it lasted, it gave her indescribable pleasure.
That thought was meant to bolster her determination to go on without Gray. It didn’t. Her hands were clumsy as she opened the door and stepped into the darkened room.
There was a rustle from the shadowy bed and a soft voice broke the silence. “Stella?”
