When he’d asked her to come to his house for a nightcap, he almost expected her to say no. Even if she had, he would’ve charmed and seduced her until she caved.
But he sensed she was unsure and he didn’t want to rush things or do what she felt might be uncomfortable. He found his inner fire reliant upon her. “Do you want to drink something? Champagne? Or perhaps something stronger?”
“Stronger is good. Whisky?”
He moved to the wet bar at the other side of the living room, watching her from the corner of his eye as he poured the whisky.
While her face gave nothing away, her movements did. She jerked her wrap off, dropping it carelessly on the sofa and then, she made quick work of her updo, letting that lustrous mass of black hair flow beautifully down her back. Is she nervous?
She seemed completely unaware of the effect she was having on him, as she absently stretched her arms over her head, muscles moving temptingly beneath her skin, her tanned flesh glowing in the firelight coming from the hearth as she combed her hair with her fingers.
He wanted nothing more than to leap over the center table and kiss the beauty before him, or even better, carry her to his room and let the desire he felt simmering inside him take control.
He wished to tie her, just like that, with her hands trapped above her head so he could have his way, taking his time as he thoroughly explored the long line of her back.
He didn’t even have to close his eyes to picture it. He cleared his throat and handed her the glass. “Here.”
She turned to him and accepted the glass. Raising it, she said huskily, “To a night of pleasure.”
A slow smile spread on his lips as he touched his glass to hers. “To a night of pleasure.”
Her dark eyes locked on his as she took a sip and put her glass on the table.
When his fingers traced her face, she closed her eyelids as a shiver ran over her. For some strange reason she couldn’t explain, she trusted him, but her fears were raising their head in her mind.
This is a mistake.
It was as if she was a siren and had called him from across the room. He wanted to grab her to him, confront her with the desire she had built inside of him.
Instead, he reached up and lightly traced the lines of her face. She had not fooled him with her bold words.
“You act as though I’m going to attack you,” Ludwig said, his voice amused. “I’m not. If you want—”
“I know,” she cut him off quickly before he finished his sentence and added in a whisper, “It was pleasant enough when you kissed me.”
A soft sound of surprise escaped him at her admission. “Pleasant?”
Oh, Cristo! Angelica had no idea what made her say the words aloud. “Yes.”
“Pleasant,” Ludwig repeated. “Then I must be doing something wrong.”
She wanted to explain to him it wasn’t him, it was her. If a man like Ludwig touched her and she couldn’t let go of her fears, then she’d know she was frigid as all her previous boyfriends had told her.
The hand on her cheek slid over her neck, pulling her lightly forward, and pushed back her hair, brushing lightly over her nape.
Softly, he asked, “Would you like me to kiss you again?”
Angelica slowly nodded. “Yes, please.”
Ludwig gave her a slow smile and bent his head, brushing his lips lightly along hers.
She returned the kiss, light, hesitant and unsure.
Pleased that her passion matched his, he pressed into her, receiving her kiss, and then traced her mouth with his tongue before delving inside.
She sank into him, but her hands were hesitant. She tried to remember if there was something she should be doing—or not doing.
He paused, pulled back, a light in his electric blue eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Maybe he has guessed my most intimate secret. Not wanting him to stop, she arched on his hands. “Yes. Take me.”
He guided her to sit on the couch behind them. Then he kissed her again, wrapping his fingers around her hair, taking a handful of it in his fist, and slanted her head to deepen the kiss.
She moaned at the dominance she felt in his touch.
There was innocence in the kiss, sexuality undiscovered—a trait so rare, so raw, so new—that he knew nothing but need. Possessive, hot need.
He felt the subtle shifts of her body against him and he moved, running his mouth down her jaw, her neck. Pressing his mouth against her throat, he rumbled, “You are so sweet.”
Warmth stung her nipple as he drew his thumb over it sending a wave of scorching heat to her belly. Her hips jerked. She was dizzy, lightheaded, and she couldn’t make him stop when he tugged at her dress, baring her breasts to his eyes.
Hungrily, he eyed her. His breath came in harsh pants and a growl left his mouth as he moved to taste her flesh.
That growl echoed over her, reverberating along her skin, as Ludwig kissed his way down her shoulder, pushing her dress aside to clear the way to her bare breast, taking a ripe nipple into his mouth.
It was the most intimate touch she’d ever experienced and her body exploded with pleasure as she discovered nerve endings she’d never known she had.
His teeth bit lightly and his tongue soothed the ache.
She jerked, undulating with the waves of pleasure he wrought with the power of his tongue, and moaned, “Ah, sí.”
“Delicious.”
He pushed her onto the couch, trapped her body beneath his. His leg forced her thighs to part for him and his hand ran softly over her stockings, up, and up, to find her lacy thong.
But when his fingers made their way inside, she flinched in surprise and grabbed his wrist.
A confused frown crossed over his face as he looked at her slender fingers around his wrist. Is she a virgin?
Then her fingers loosened around his wrist and her hand ran over his arm, shoulder, and tugged on his hair, trying to bring him back into kissing her.
“Ludwig,” she whispered against his mouth, her tongue tracing the contour of his lips. “Kiss me.”
But something was off. She needed guidance, that much was clear. Despite having had many women, he had never had a virgin in his life. He could continue on without the knowledge, but he’d rather know where he stood.
“I need you to tell me one thing,” he murmured against her skin.
“Mmm?” She pressed herself to him.
He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “Have you done this before?”
Her body tensed and she wished an earthquake would just make the earth open and take them. Dying a horrible death would surely be less painful than this moment. Great. Now he is not interested anymore.
Pretty sure she’d never been so mortified in her life, she whispered, “No.”
Ludwig moved a bit away from her but kept his hand lightly over her thigh, drawing circles on her skin. “Were you going to tell me?”
She felt horribly on display. She raised her dress back over her exposed breasts and took in a deep breath. Her blush deepened and she lowered her head. Her loose black hair swept forward like a silk curtain, hiding her face. “No.”
“Why not?”
Her chocolate eyes flicked upward, soft and feminine, vulnerable, as she eyed him resignedly from under her long eyelashes. “I didn’t want it to get in the way. Like it is now.”
“I’ve wanted you since I saw you all alone near the dance floor and it’s not a hymen that will get in my way.”
“It seems to be a problem.”
“Problem?” Inside, he was confused. Outside, he chuckled softly. “Besides, to whom would it be a…problem?”
“Men,” she whispered. And then she crossed her arms around herself and looked away. “I’m…cold.”
He frowned. “Let me turn on the heat.”
“Ludwig.” She grabbed his hand when he made to stand up.
“Yes?” He paused mid-way to standing and looked at her.
“I??
?m not cold now.” She stared into his eyes and confessed, “I have been told I am cold inside like the snowy peaks of the Himalaya.”
His mouth opened and he stared at her at a loss for words.
Oh, Cristo! “Sorry, bad expression.” Have I really repeated Abelardo’s words out loud? Like that? When he said nothing she tried to get away.
Ludwig refused to let her go. His hands kneaded along her sides. He made a soft, seductive noise as he brushed his nose along her jaw, nuzzling her.
“Say…something.”
He reared his head to gaze into her eyes. “Whoever told you that was wrong. Rather, he’s an idiot.”
His warm tone gave her hope and an involuntary, relieved sigh left her mouth. “So…my being a virgin…is it not a problem?”
“Nein.” He shook his head at her and there was a soft smile on his lips when he bent to kiss her again. He licked playfully at her mouth, running the tip of his tongue along the seam, before vowing, “If anything, Angelica, it’ll be an honor.”
9
If he was going to take her virginity, it wasn’t going to be on a sofa in the living room. He would take her where she would be pampered and surrounded in softness.
He guided her to his bedroom, showing her in and closing the door softly behind him.
She looked around, but apart from a blur of navy, white and silver, nothing else registered but the enormous four poster bed against the farthest wall. She took a deep breath as he put his hands on her shoulders and, pivoting on her heels, she turned to him and put her arms around his neck.
Now that the issue of her virginity was out in the open and not a problem, she hoped nothing else would ruin this experience. She so wanted it to be good. Not just for herself, but for him too. Although she was sure she had no idea how to accomplish that.
“Relax,” he whispered, as she looked at him with a mix between fear and hope in her eyes. “We’ll take this slowly and I promise you will enjoy it as much as I will.”
A rush of desire ran through her and she stood up on her toes. “Kiss me.”
He reached for her, kissing her with more fiery passion than before. Lust fired through his rushing blood, spreading quickly, stirred feverishly by the taste and smell of her.
This time when he kissed her he deepened it, moving as if to conquer her. How much time for her to relax into the moment?
She was almost afraid to feel what he made her feel. Yet, she was powerless to stop it. No man had ever excited her like this. She sank onto him, her dark eyes thick with passion. She pulled his head down to hers, meeting him with a kiss as demanding as his.
His hand found the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down, red gauze pooling around her feet.
For a moment, he forgot what he’d been doing. Her waist was narrow, her stomach flat. He licked his lips. His fingers itched with his desire to touch her. Oh, yeah, I can definitely work with this.
“Get on the bed,” he told her.
It wasn’t a request.
She moved in silence and climbed on the bed.
His eyes bore down on her as he took off his clothes, as if daring her not to watch.
His muscled chest, flat stomach, tapered waist and hips, so defined and smooth, made her fingers itch. Not a measure of fat marred his tall frame.
She forced her gaze downward, watching his large hands unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. And when he pushed them down along with his underwear, she swallowed.
His large and engorged shaft was erect, jutting up toward his stomach in a soft bed of dark blond hair. And noticing it pulsing, she licked her lips, wondering at his taste.
Her eyes whipped up to his when a soft growl sounded at the back of Ludwig’s throat. Too late, she realized she’d been staring senselessly at him.
He grabbed himself and pumped his hand twice. “Do you like what you see?”
“Yes.” She blushed but wiggled her fingers at him. “Now, get yourself over here.”
There was something seductive, primitive in the way he carried himself to the bed—like a hunter stalking a prey. It was as if the marble statue had come to life for her and she wanted to touch the art instead of merely appreciating its beauty.
His electric blue gaze was filled with pleasure when he crawled over the bed and his thighs straddled her. His erection came close to her stomach when he bent over her. “Do you trust me?”
“Sí.”
“Give me your wrists.”
She was past the point of conscious reasoning. His words demanded, but his eyes and face begged her not to refuse him, and trusting him, she lifted her hands up.
He crossed her arms at the wrists and took a soft rope from a drawer, all the while watching her face as he bound her wrists together.
She wiggled slightly, but didn’t fight.
Lifting her arms over her head, he made quick work of tying her to the top of the bedrest. He pulled her hands to make sure she couldn’t free herself.
“You don’t want me to touch you?”
“Ja, I do want you to touch me, I just don’t want you worried about it when this is all about you,” he answered.
“I’m…” Her lashes lowered, lifted, and she let out a breath. “I’m nervous.”
Nervous. His chest tightened with the honesty of her admission, at her continued trust in him; he wanted to be worthy of deserving it. The inference that someone had given her a reason to feel embarrassed angered him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. Protectiveness flared inside him and he moved to her, sliding his hand to her face and kissing her. “You have no reason to be nervous with me. Not now, not ever.”
“Says you,” she whispered.
“Ja,” he agreed. “Says me, and I hope says you too very soon. Now. Do you want me to touch you?”
She nodded.
His lids lazily half-closed over his eyes. “Where?”
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t have made a sound if she’d tried. Her breath came out in a ragged pant.
Ludwig took a finger to her palm, running down her arm to her throat, over her speeding pulse, down her collarbone to sweep across the top of her right breast. “Do you want me here?”
Angelica nodded. She closed her eyes as his fingers narrowed in on her nipples, twirling lightly around them so they budded.
Her body stirred with an intense longing.
Ludwig thoroughly caressed and explored her upper body, before moving to touch her stomach, rubbing over her legs, whispering past her feet.
She had never felt anything like it before. Her chest ached. She wanted to cry out, but the feelings were so intense that instead she moaned. She wondered if perhaps she wasn’t frigid at all but had maybe just been an unwilling partner with inept boys and men. Her sense now was that she didn’t need to know anything about what they were doing. She merely had to feel what she was feeling, enjoy it, and follow her body’s lead.
By the time he made the journey back toward her hips, she was squirming against her bindings.
“Where else do you want me to touch you?” Ludwig asked.
“Everywhere,” she gasped.
He chuckled. “That can be arranged.”
His lips found one ripe breast, roughly licking a nipple, teasing it mercilessly, to finally close his teeth lightly around it.
“Oh!” Her entire body jerked at the stinging pleasure.
Ludwig growled, giving the other breast the same attention. He bit lightly and her hips bucked.
Her knee lifted to rub against his hip. Using all her strength, she tried to pull him closer. Her hands fought to be free so that she could force him to her searching body.
His lips moved down across her body in the same path his hands had taken moments before.
He nipped at her inner thigh, kissed her from her knee down to her toes before traveling back up the other side. By the time he finished, he’d staked claim to almost every inch of her, worshipping and conquering at the same time.
“Por
favor,” Angelica moaned, not completely sure what she was begging for.
“Please?” he repeated softly. “Do you want me to end your torment?”
He moved his hand to her stomach, reaching down. Gently he rubbed his fingers against her moist sex, testing her tightness.
His tongue trailed behind his fingers, along her stomach, kissing her hip, and then he breathed hotly against her pussy.
“Ludwig.” She tensed and tried to close her legs and resisted him without thinking. It was one thing to read about oral sex, but it was another thing—another very different thing—to let a man go down on her. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t need to know. Just to feel,” he growled, his large hands holding her open to him, fingers digging into her skin. His eyes lowered to her pussy and he let out a groan. “You’re so beautiful, and tonight you’re all mine.”
Pleasure rolled over her at his words and she would have consented to anything.
He put her legs over his shoulder and then his mouth was there, over her tight passage, his tongue probing inside her, lapping, licking.
“Ah!” The things I’ve missed out on! She’d never felt anything so exquisite. She could only hold onto the ropes as he pushed a broad finger inside her, in and out, his mouth setting her ablaze with the full tide of his restrained passion.
She squirmed on the bed, never having imagined anything as sweet as Ludwig’s possession. Her legs over his shoulders trembled, moans left her mouth as he sucked her clit and slowly pumped another finger inside her.
“Ah, sí. Don’t stop.”
“That’s it, Liebchen. Come for me,” he growled in her folds.
And then his fingers and tongue were moving faster, sucking and entering her, overwhelming in their relentless teasing.
“Oh, Cristo!” Her body jerked, her passage clamping around his fingers, as the first wave hit her. “Ludwig.”
As her desire had begun to respond naturally to his, she forgot her plans, forgot that she was a princess, she simply forgot herself, mindlessly riding his face and fingers, crying out in a climax so fierce she felt as if she was being ripped apart just to be put back together again as a new woman.