Souls Out of Time

  His family jewels dangled before her eyes, seemingly screaming to be taken and swallowed. She gently licked his right ball, her tongue going around it, making love to the wrinkled flesh.

  He hissed and he shuddered. In the heat of her hands, his buttocks clenched and unclenched, rock hard muscles twitching against her palms. Not intending to give him a respite, she moved to his left ball.

  Wet and luscious, her tongue circled it, stroking the soft hairy skin with long, amorous licks. He moaned and panted. On each side of her head, his strong thighs seemed to vibrate. Again and again, his ass contracted as though powerful waves of unknown pleasure coursed through him. His body’s instinctive reactions aroused her, compelling her to give him more. To torture him with bliss.

  She retrieved her hands to adopt a more comfortable position. She lay flat on her back, drew her knees up, and settled between his legs. Right above her face, his rigid sex pointed to the ceiling.

  First, she slid a finger behind his nuts, resting it on the most sensitive stretch of skin. She applied a slight pressure and the touch extracted a long groan from his lips. Like a thirsty dog, he started panting. She rubbed him with great care, sensing his vulnerability as she followed the intensity of his moans.

  “Goodness gracious!” he uttered, almost choking on his words.

  His outburst sounded both pleading and deafening, telling her without a doubt that he wouldn’t last much longer.

  Removing her finger, she reached back to enfold one of his nuts in her mouth. His heavy, raspy respiration in rhythm with the roll of her tongue, her lips offering a delicious cocoon, she sucked it.

  She’d never licked a man so profoundly before, and the feeling was exhilarating. Taking hold of his other ball, she suckled it anew, listening with pure delight to his ragged breathing, to the pitch of his cries.

  “Tracy, please, I . . . I—”

  When she heard his desperate plea, she knew she had him by the balls. She pulled away but went back to rubbing the taut spot he favored so much. Her finger moved back and forth, once, twice.

  Then his muscles locked, his whole body shuddered, and he uttered a deep, orgasmic cry of satisfaction.

  She sat up quickly to look at him. Eyes closed, features torn into a consuming expression of bliss, he lay sprawled on the pillow. His sex softened just as she spotted a creamy texture on the brown cover.

  Yup, he really enjoyed being sucked. She slid off the bed, smoothed her nightdress, and cleared her throat. “I trust that queasiness of yours will have eased off in the morning. I bid you goodnight, Garrett.”

  He was still motionless on the bed when she shut the door. She didn’t tiptoe this time but ran back to her room, light on her feet. Heart beating, she dashed inside, threw herself on the mattress and brought the covers up to her chin. Gosh, she never thought she’d end up sucking Garrett’s balls.

  She cursed in frustration five minutes later. In bed, relying solely on the moon glow, she wrestled with the light sitting on the bedside table.

  Could it be called a lamp? How did this thing work? Where was the booklet providing people with detailed instructions? She tampered with a knob of some kind, all the while thinking her father’s telepod proved easier to use than this damn old fixture.

  “How long shall you ill-treat this lamp?” Garrett asked from the door.

  Her heart jiggled and twitched, her blood abruptly racing up and down her veins. Enrapt by her new career as an inefficient repairwoman, she hadn’t heard Garrett coming in. Without knocking.

  When he closed the door, she found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  He eyed her, clad in his thick bathrobe. His deadpan expression didn’t herald the nicety of a diplomatic exchange. “I believe you came to my chamber to clarify certain matters.”

  Although her bedroom bathed in shadows, an amber radiance emitted by the moon allowed her to discern his somber features. Did she hear him right? Did he really want more? She sat up in bed, a slow smile stretching her lips.

  “Actually I did,” she said, “but you were way too busy having an orgasm.”

  “Language, please.”

  Garrett almost stamped his foot on the floor but halted his movement and came very close to twisting his ankle. Was he upset with her choice of words or because he busted a nut all over his silken sheets?

  Damn, she should have said ‘jerk off’ instead of orgasm. Why didn’t she think of that? Too late now as he glared at her.

  “For heaven’s sake, Tracy, must you always remind me of my inclination toward you? May we never communicate courteously?”

  “Sure, we can. But tell me, where do you suppose we should start when you’re already convinced I’m a slut?”

  “I never—”

  She cut him short. “And you’d be totally right to think so. If you want to know every little detail, I fuck you, I fuck Timothy, I fuck Raphael, and I fuck the whole British Royal Guard. So what do you make of that?”

  She had no idea why she took so much pleasure in taunting him. Because he had the power to hurt her beyond her means? Because she learned for a certainty that sexually provoking him remained the most efficient way to breach his defenses? Because she needed whatever revenge she could get? Or simply because she wanted him to go down on his knees and beg to make love to her?

  The hurtful curses she threw in his face stunned him. Speechless, he ran a hand through his hair before taking a step toward the bed.

  “Have you . . .?” His voice trailed off. As if he couldn’t tell lies from truth, he shook his head several times like a man lost in the throes of suspicion. Come on, how about giving her a little credit.

  When he was done with all the hair shaking, he squared his shoulders and raised his hands in a questioning gesture. “From what I’ve heard,” he said, “I inferred you stayed in the garden house last night in Andrew’s company. All night long.”

  The recollection of Garrett waking her up at Jessica’s rushed back to her. He had looked happy or relieved about something she couldn’t figure out at the time, but now she knew. Andrew told his brother about their encounter and Garrett had worked out she hadn’t spent the night with Timothy after she stormed out of Skoma’s.

  Despite the fact that her ex-boyfriend went back to the restaurant after dropping her off on Bonita Street, Garrett might have envisioned they planned to meet later on. Possibly pictured them having sex. Gosh, the idea of Tim’s naked body on top of hers must have been hard for Garrett.

  Or maybe he left the restaurant with her dad before Timothy’s return. Now this version sounded even worse. Thanks to Andrew, Garrett had been assured of her whereabouts, yet he wasn’t satisfied.

  Jealousy had sunk its teeth in him, doubts rising to break the surface of his usual cold composure. Right now, he seemed to be struggling to keep the turbulent emotion in check.

  As seconds separated them, she took pity on him. “Come on, Garrett, I’m kidding.”

  Meant to be heard or not, his sigh of relief reached her ears. He was well aware she had the knack of stirring up his jealousy, yet confirmation of her faithfulness seemed to please him without end.

  No way in hell she’d tell him about her lapse with Tim a month ago. She mentioned it when they argued outside the restaurant, but she felt sure Garrett had dismissed it as one of her outrageous flaunts. Better her past with Timothy stayed buried in the past.

  “Sadly,” she said, “I’ve never met any of the Queen’s guards.”

  He got the crack this time. He didn’t grin from ear to ear, but his features relaxed a little. Though not enough to envision sexual intercourse.

  Straightening the belt of his bathrobe, he took a deep breath. “Since it appears we’re discussing private matters, I must inform you that we are to be intimate no longer.”

  Maintaining a po
ker face, she dropped the wire from the lamp and almost let out a victorious whistle when a weak ray finally lit the room. So what did Garrett just say? That he didn’t want her near his precious, holy, sanctified thingy. God, would she ever have guessed otherwise?

  The day he’d tell her about his desperate need to fuck her she’d go on a pilgrimage and burn a candle. Heck, at least five candles. While waiting for this improbable day to come, the last thing she needed now was him believing that in paying him a visit she had intended to go down on him.

  “Listen, Garrett, whatever you might think I didn’t sneak into your bedroom at night to suck your balls.”

  She couldn’t believe her eyes as the forcefulness of her explicit meaning hit him. Did these words remind him of his recent orgasm? Did he get a clear picture in his mind of her head buried between his legs?

  Maybe of his hand clenching the sheet while his thighs quivered with pleasure as he came. In any case, his recollections must be very vivid because a big bulge suddenly stretched his bathrobe.

  “Dear Lord, no.” He sounded both excited and frustrated, betrayed by his own body as well as stirred by her challenging vocabulary. The atmosphere in the room instantly took on a new meaning and moistness pooled between her folds.

  Eroticism capturing hearts and flesh, their lovers-enemies feud flew away in a wing beat, and mutual desire reclaimed its natural rights. She read it in his eyes, he read it in hers. Betrothal, wedding, loneliness, hurt, anger, resentment, and longing forgotten in a wink, they stared at each other.

  A deep arousal creasing his features, Garrett brought his hand down over his crotch. He tried to hide his excitement, but she kicked the covers back while remaining in a sitting position.

  “Garrett, take off your bathrobe.”

  His eyelids fluttered, his breath came out strong and broken. The hand on his groin slowly moved up toward his belt, not quite reaching it. Overwhelmed with lust and longing, he nevertheless attempted to resist temptation, but she kept a firm tone of voice as she repeated her order.

  “Take off your bathrobe.”

  He loosened the tied belt, his transfixed gaze rooted to her lips. When he shrugged the robe off his tense shoulders, the garment fell to the floor. He stood naked, prey to her hungry eyes. Tight muscles and fair skin fondled by the glow from the lamp, he looked like a warrior after battle.

  Fluttering butterflies invaded her belly and she devoured his strong body. The longer she stared at him, the heavier his breathing grew. But he didn’t move, letting her have her fill, his erection bearing testimony to his profound desire. As if enthralled with her intense gaze, he came up to the edge of the bed. He’d finally made up his mind.

  Before he could lean over her or perhaps sit by her side, she gave him a new command. “Touch yourself.”

  “What?”

  For once, he forgot his usual manner of speech. Her unexpected request surprised him so much, his eyes widened to their limits. At the same time, his hard-on seemed to take on an even bigger dimension.

  “I want to watch you masturbate,” she said, her desire seeming to flow through him.

  “I cannot, Tracy. This is most improper.”

  Nervousness oozed from him and showed in his shifting stance as he rubbed his hands against his thighs. “This is perverse.”

  “If you say so, Garrett, but you know what? I think you’re a perverse boy. I think you want to do what I’m asking.”

  His chest rose and fell faster, one hand already reaching for his erection. Even as he shook his head to deny her statement, his fingers coiled around the base of his shaft. The sensual move riveted her while familiar warmth grabbed her all over.

  Her voice barely audible, she urged him on. “Do it.”

  His thumb closed in and he strengthened his hold. When he slowly moved his hand forward then backward, the suggestive sight jolted her. Her nipples stiffened, hard against the thick nightdress.

  A rush of desire shooting up and down her legs, she felt incapable of tearing her gaze away from his strong hand encasing his erection, from the stretch of skin being pulled and pushed. Yet she did break eye contact to look up at his face and find his features burning with a forbidden passion.

  The sight elated her. “Garrett?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me you’re not enjoying it.”

  He made a groaning sound, her enquiry quickening the movement of his hand, firm fingers drawing his foreskin up and down.

  “I am,” he replied quickly as his flesh glistened and his member thickened, the crown red and pulsating.

  His grumbled acknowledgement pierced her right through and an impulsive throbbing between her thighs rocked her, making her gasp. Watching him jack off, free of burden, he’d never appeared so manly.

  Way too horny and wet to stall, she quickly discarded her nightdress before whispering for him only. “God, how can you excite me so much?”

  Jaws tight, his dark eyes blazing with lust, he suddenly let go of his erection to grab her legs and pull her down on the mattress. Education, restraint, and self-possession suddenly scattered to another era when he propelled himself between her thighs.

  On his knees, roughly spreading her legs, he paused for an instant. “I shall never possess the will to resist your charms, my lady, for I belong to you and to no other.”

  Her heart pounded so much that she thought she might lose all control. She’d been ready for mind-blowing sex, she wasn’t prepared for a declaration of love. His abrupt, straightforward confession sent her blood rocketing in her veins, her nipples straining to touch his hard chest.

  “Garrett, what . . .?”

  He seized her waist and prompted her body up to him. Legs open, her moist folds kissed his tip while his name rolled along her tongue. “Garrett, I—”

  He impaled her.

  With a striking push, he drove his rigid sex into her. His long moan rang clear in the silent bedroom, echoed by her gasp of pleasure. His shaft so hard that a wail spilled out of her mouth, he withdrew with agonizing slowness only to come back full force. Flesh enfolded, embraced, espoused.

  “Tracy, I shall love you until you cry.”

  His declaration gripped her by the throat. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such a complete surrender. His body locked into hers, his face reflecting pure passion, he resembled a virile knight of old times romancing his princess. Or screwing her. And her heart roared with ecstasy.

  Swift and purposeful, he raised her legs over his waist. She responded to his desire and wrapped them tightly around him while he slid his hands under her shoulders.

  With a firm hold on them, he began moving in and out of her, taking his time to explore her wet and delirious pussy. “Moan to your heart’s content, my lady.”

  She already did, unable to keep inside the fierce sensations he elicited, and her throaty sounds parted his lips again.

  “Yes,” he said, “I wish to hear your pleasure.”

  He pulled away. She lifted her hips to keep him inside, but he held back. His tip taunting her, he brushed his stiff erection against her, stroking the sensitive flesh until the need to be stuffed made her whimper.

  “Stake me, Garrett.”

  His mouth came down on hers. As if starved, their tongues met, rolled, licked, merged. Their fervent kiss left her breathless, wanting more, more, more. He looked at her, his crown resting on her gaping breach.

  He gave a little push, but barely entered her. Overwhelmed with unfulfilled desire, on the verge of squalling from frustration, she dug her nails into the taut muscles of his shoulders.

  He uttered a coarse, strangled sound before whispering in her ear. “I want to love you until my dying breath.”

  Chapter 12

  Garrett penetrated her.

  Not much, just en
ough to ignite a wet pool in her folds and send wild tremors through her whole body. Breaking out in goose bumps, hot tingles biting her skin, her mind overdosed with unchecked desire, she whispered through clenched teeth. “Please.”

  He nibbled the side of her ear, his breathing short and rough, and pumped her with rapid, incomplete strikes at the same time. Coiled around his waist, her legs trembled from the violent sensation.

  “Please, what, my love?” he murmured against her.

  Her skin hot to the touch, her whole body enslaved by the savage pleasure he was giving her, she uttered a delirious moan. She rocked her head on the pillow until she could breathe again.

  Belly inflamed, she dug her nails even harder into his back muscles and caught his flaming gaze. “Fuck me, Lord Burnes. I want to feel your cock all the way inside me. Please, fuck me long and hard.”

  His body jerked. His hands shook and clenched. A fierce emotion flashed in his eyes, and he brusquely inhaled like a drowning man breaking the surface. He rolled his fingers around her shoulders, his ardent face already lost in the intense moment they were sharing, his voice raucous beside her ear. “As my lady wishes.”

  He dove all the way into her with a single thrust. She let out an uncontrolled cry, swept away by the shattering move. As he plunged in and out of her relentlessly, it felt like nothing and nobody could stop him now.

  His iron dick loved her, ravaged her, and totally turned her upside down. Tears brimmed in her eyes when he brought her on the brink of orgasm. Half-crazed with passion, she gasped, whimpered, and blinked. He slowed down to lick a droplet from her cheek, his sex ablaze inside her, so hard just before climax.