“What?” Jesus, I have died and gone to Heaven. He wanted to feel those wanton lips around him, sucking him deep into her mouth, taking everything he could give.
“It’s how they call it, isn’t it? Arumatio?” she whispered in his ear, feeling his manhood get even harder in her hand. She wanted to have him thrusting in her mouth.
“It’s irrumatio. Or face fucking. But who cares?”
His hands trailed up her legs, pushing up her dress, past her waist, and tugging. Still, she didn’t find the courage to move.
“You haven’t done this before,” he rasped, not asking. “It’s no’ gentle; it’s no’ active. It’s passive.”
“I know, I trust you to guide me.”
He tugged again, and she sat on his legs, allowing him to pull her dress off, watching it sail over his shoulders. Cupping her face in his hands, he stared deep into her violet-blue eyes and in a hoarse voice said, “Will ye submit tae me?”
“Yes, I want this,” she whispered, putting his hand inside her panties. “I want it so much I’m already wet.”
He kissed her, devouring her lips, raining a trail of heated kisses over her jawline and down to her breasts, lowering the straps to take a nipple in his mouth. Laetitia threw her head back and gasped as he sucked hard, his fingers playing lightly with her clitoris.
“This is not irrumation.”
His chest rumbled with a deep laugh, and his mouth moved to the other breast, sucking, nibbling. He took her bra off, cupping her breasts in his hands, kneading.
Exquisite currents of pleasure radiated in all directions, making her dizzy, when he twisted and pulled on her nipples. She gripped his hair. “Tavish. Keep this for later.”
He fixed her with his turbulent sea-green eyes. “You tell me if I go too fast or too deep. Right?”
“I . . . want it. I want to take it all.”
Oh, fuck. There was a dark look in his face, not a hint of smile, when he stood up and put her on her feet, quickly making his way out of his trousers, watching her walk to the pillows, pale-blonde locks to her waist, covering her bare shoulders and breasts. His eyes drifted down, and he ordered, “Keep the panties on. You don’t get tae touch yourself.”
He thought he was going to come just watching her dropping to her knees on the pillows, on a black lace thong, awaiting his orders.
He stepped before her and fisting himself in his hand, commanded, “Open your mouth.”
She didn’t hesitate, and a molten fire spread through Tavish’s body as she took him into her mouth, slowly, wetting her way down, one hand massaging his balls, the other gripping his thigh.
“Such a greedy girl.”
He tasted wild, exotic, all male, the same way he smelled, and a moan escaped her. It sounded so erotic, it spurred her excitement, and she started to move her head up and down his erection.
“Goddammit. You feel so fucking good.” He dipped his fingers into her hair, grabbing it as she sucked him. When he rested on her tongue, she swirled it around him. “More?”
Unable to answer with him filling her, she widened her mouth and pushed against his crotch, taking him even deeper this time.
“Fuck.” He gripped her hair firmly in his hand and, giving it a yank, stopped her motions, pulling himself all the way out. “Breathe.”
She looked up at him. A sense of power took her. He is mine, mine to do whatever I like with.
“Open up. And don’t move,” he said, guiding himself again to her mouth and sliding in, back and forth, slowly at first, then increasing the pace, her hair held tightly in his hand and another hand around her neck. “Take me deep.”
Their gazes locked. His eyes were heavy lidded, his breaths harried; he struggled to control the tempo, the depth, until he was stroking the back of her throat. “Now, suck.”
She felt a light seep of liquid, slightly salty, sweet sour, and swallowed. A flavor of its own.
“Oh, fuck. That’s it.”
She opened her lips wider, taking him in more, moaning around him, her hands moving over to his buttocks, gaining leverage on him.
“OK?” He pulled her back by the hair.
She nodded, taking deep breaths.
“Open up.” He plunged again, held still, and pressed against her face. “All the way down. All the way down.”
His grip tightened in her hair, almost painful, and he, usually a quiet man in the bedroom, groaned loudly. He shut his eyes for a moment, enjoying the millions of electric shocks running through his body.
He pulled back, and when he thrust again, her nails dug in his buttocks, pulling him to her, and she swallowed the head but gagged.
“Damn, Laetitia.” He pulled out. “Breathe.”
“Don’t stop, don’t stop now.” She looked up from the length of his body and pulled him back. “I want all of you.”
Her mouth closed around him again, her tongue swirling, and he was lost. Gripping her head in his hand, he slid in and out, stroking the back of her throat, until she was allowing himself to fill her mouth completely. “You’re fucking killing me.”
The feeling was heady, powerful, her hands gripping him, her hair in his fists, all of him in her mouth. “I’m gonna come.”
She gave up complete control to him, enjoying the thrill of his power over her, of hers over him, as the first jet erupted from his body. She swallowed and swallowed again, her hands gripping him tight.
At the sight of her—mouth around him, eyes staring at his—jolts of electricity ran up and down his whole body. He let out a shout, pulled, and thrust hard once more, his whole body shaking, as he finished in the back of her throat.
Panting, completely drained, he fell on his knees beside her and gathered her into his arms, laying her down, kissing her slowly. “Jesus, Laetitia. No woman has ever made me feel like this.”
She pushed on his chest and rolled over him, with a smile on her face. “So it was good?”
“Good? Woman!” His thigh spread hers, and his fingers rubbed her over her panties. “Give me a minute, and I’ll show you how good it was.”
Atwood House
7:41 p.m.
“Beautiful, as always.” Alistair watched his wife, Sophia, as she put on the last touches of her light makeup.
“Humph, Lord I-Want-Something.” She waved her hand at him. She knew she was pretty, but he treated her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, which she couldn’t deny liking a lot.
He chuckled at her habit of always nicknaming him something different, depending on the occasion. Leaning on the jamb of the bathroom door, he appraised the way the purple wool dress hugged her curves, highlighting her round, pregnant belly, and the sheer thigh highs and high heels enhancing her legs.
She sprayed a cloud of perfume in the air and waited for it to fall over her as a soft drizzle. “Spill it, Handsome.”
“Sometimes, I think you know me better than I do, Marchioness Freud.” He scowled at himself. Of course she knew him better. It still baffled him how he had let her get away with her taunts and whims so easily. He didn’t usually take well to that kind of behavior.
She grinned, not deigning to answer, as she inspected him from head to toe and back again. Alistair was wearing a tailored navy wool three-piece suit, a pristine white shirt, and a dark-green tie, which enhanced his beautiful forest-green eyes.
“If I look beautiful, you look stunning.” Sophia patted his cheek and exited the bathroom, brushing herself against him. “And don’t even think of gainsaying me, I’m—”
“Aye, I know, you’re pregnant, very pregnant.” He whirled her around to face him. “Beauty, don’t provoke me if you want to arrive in time. I can’t answer for my behavior if you keep doing this.”
She threw her head back, her long midnight-black hair falling past her waist with the gesture. “As if Lord Punctuality would ever arrive late anywhere.”
He sighed and released her, following her back to their bedroom. “I met Tavish Uilleam’s . . . hmm . . . girlfrie
nd a month or so ago.”
With her pashmina shawl and shell purse in her hand, she said excitedly as they left their bedroom and descended the stairs to the hall, “Describe her.”
“Abundant, endless pale-blonde hair, almost white, big violet-blue eyes framed by thick and long brownish lashes, thin but not too much so. Shorter than you.”
“If I wasn’t absolutely sure you loved me to distraction, I would say you have fallen in love with her,” she said, teasing him.
He rolled his eyes at her and didn’t deign to answer. “Next to Tavish Uilleam, she is positively petite. She reminded me of a fairy, in the way she dresses, talks, moves. In every sense.” He made a pause. “To top off her resemblance, she has elfin ears.”
“Come again?” She pivoted so abruptly as they reached the hall that if Alistair hadn’t grabbed her waist, she would have done a complete pirouette.
“Aye, that’s exactly what you heard. Elfin ears. Tavish Uilleam didn’t prepare us for it, and the first thing she did, after she started the meeting, was to pull her hair behind her ears. Tatiana thought they were body modifications and . . . Christ, Sophia, the meeting was awkward. I had to intervene more than once.”
“And?”
She entered their navy Porsche, and before he started the car, he turned to her. “I received some disturbing news from Baptist concerning her.”
She shook her head at this. “Alistair Connor, you never learn, do you?”
“Nae.” But instead of his usual smirk, there was a deep concern in his eyes. “Tavish Uilleam asked me—”
“Again?” she asked, shocked.
“He is worried. She had been receiving some strange calls. And a man followed her in the woods near the manor where she works.”
“Really?”
“Aye. I want you to judge her for yourself. It’s Father’s birthday the week after next. I couldn’t have a better excuse for you to plan a party this weekend. I’ll tell Tavish Uilleam to bring her next weekend to Ells Hall.”
“You’ll order them, you mean. Alice and Leonard and their children, and the rest of the family, too?” She raised an eyebrow at the way he spoke. Alistair was domineering enough, and he ordered everyone around, in a way, but her.
“Aye, I will,” he shrugged, starting the car. “They will all be there.”
“How can you be sure he is going to take the girl, Alistair Connor?”
Alistair looked at his wife with an open look that people seldom saw on his face. “He is as much smitten with her as I was with you.”
“Was?” She tilted her head. “Should I be offended by this remark?”
“Perhaps . . .” His smile bloomed, dazzling her. “If I had said he loved her as much as I love you.”
She grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard. “Lord Impossible.”
CHAPTER 36
10:53 p.m.
Tavish’s mobile rang as soon as they left the restaurant. “Hullo.”
Laetitia was going to walk away to give him privacy, when he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him as they walked to his car.
“Nae, I have plans. Why next weekend?” He sighed profoundly, annoyed. “Aye, aye. Of course. We’ll be there.”
He hung up, fuming, and shoved the iPhone in his overcoat inner pocket.
Laetitia listened to the one-sided conversation with interest but made no sense of it.
She waited for him to tell her about it. They were halfway to his house when he said in a dry tone, “It was Alistair Connor. He requested or rather demanded my presence this weekend in Ells Hall.”
“Your brother? This weekend? Ells Hall?” Can’t you form an intelligent or even coherent sentence, Laetitia?
“Ells Hall is my brother’s estate in Northumberland. Sophia has planned a surprise party for my father, whose birthday is next week.”
Sophia. Sophia. And again Sophia. Laetitia felt a burn begin to spread inside her chest. “And you do everything this Sophia wants?”
Jealous, Little Elf? Another, completely different kind of burn unfurled in his chest. “Usually.”
“Ah. OK, then.” Her face fell; she wasn’t expecting that answer from him. “OK . . . when are you leaving?”
“We. We are leaving on Thursday afternoon.”
What? “We? You mean, me?” Her voice sounded genuinely surprised. “I—I can’t possibly go with you to an intimate family party in anyone’s house.”
“Why no’?”
A deafening silence fell like an anvil over the car.
Laetitia chewed on her bottom lip. She had no plausible answer.
“What’s the problem, Snowdrop? It’s not like you are going to be cornered by lions in their den.”
“Listen, Tavish Uilleam, we haven’t settled how our—” She shut her mouth quickly when the look on his face became thunderous.
“Doona even start,” he hissed. “When are you going to comply with only one of my wishes? I’m asking you to spend a weekend with me.”
“What about your promise?”
His knuckles on the wheel turned white. “My promise?”
“Yes.” She nodded, raising her chin stubbornly.
“Care to elaborate?”
“You said we were taking this slow,” she reminded him.
“I also asked for a chance to prove to you how good we can be together,” he said quietly, but inside a storm was brewing. “And I did prove it.”
If she understood him well enough, she would let the storm calm, but she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “You did, but that didn’t mean taking me to your father’s birthday as if I was your official girlfriend.”
“Are ye not?” He pushed the control to open his garage and parked, turning off the car. He pinned her with those tumultuous eyes of his. “Are ye sure this is what ye want?”
“You aren’t listening, Tavish Uilleam,” she sighed. She got out of the car not banging its door but doing so in her mind. Making her way to the living room, for once in her life, Laetitia felt like screaming, breaking something, calling enough attention to herself to be heard.
“Laetitia.” He stalked after her, grinding his teeth.
“You don’t understand.” She stopped in the middle of the living room, looking at the paintings he used as reminders. “We agreed on giving ourselves a chance. But you keep making decisions without—”
“You don’t give yourself a chance. Neither a chance tae be recognized nor a chance to be loved.” He advanced toward her, and she backed up a step. His fists closed and opened at his side. “You are seriously screwed up, Laetitia.”
“You are so much more,” she hissed and turned her profile to him. “I’m just asking for time.”
“It’s no’ time you’re asking for. This is you letting the ghosts of your past haunt ye.”
Oh, really? “Look around you, Tavish Uilleam.” Her hand moved to encompass the morbid paintings, which seemed to mock her. “If the ghosts of my past haunt me, you gather yours and keep them alive. You surround yourself with them. With darkness, destruction, and doom. With death.”
She said it softly, because even exasperated, Laetitia didn’t raise her voice, as if she never lost her calm.
And that irritated him more. “You’d rather belong to a frightening legend than belong to me.”
It struck her that he might be speaking the truth. And that reality stung.
She gasped silently, like she had delivered a sharp blow to her own solar plexus. It was painful and paralyzing, because, no, she didn’t just want to change it.
She needed.
She hoped.
“I want to belong. I dream of a steadfast husband, a family of my own,” she whispered, as if voicing the desire in hushed tones wouldn’t scare it away, wouldn’t scare her.
The words hung between them, but neither one moved to make them come true. Because what stood separating them had become infinitely simple and entirely too complicated all at once.
“A therapist would
excavate a gold mine of neuroses out of you.”
You have no idea. Her lips curved down. “For sure. But you’re no shrink.”
He ran both of his hands through his hair and exhaled hard. “I’ve seen it firsthand how you push others away.”
“And you have yet to know much about me, Tavish Uilleam,” she said, without once looking his way.
Sadness was clear in her profile. She had never had someone to share her doubts and fears, her dreams and life. He was offering it, and she didn’t know how to accept it.
Seeing her as a prisoner of that melancholy made him want to destroy the invisible chains from her past that didn’t let her fly free, but the impossibility of immediate action drove him crazy.
He wished her to turn those lovely eyes on him as she did sometimes, their depths holding her promises to be everything she could be.
“Aye, ye are right. But ye know what I know? I know ye believe ye won’t receive anything more from life than scraps.” He tried to curb his Scottish accent—and his irritation. But it didn’t work. Nothing seemed to work when Laetitia put herself in an unreachable position. “Ye believe that floating through life with no direction is enough for you, when I see that it’s not. You canna disguise that talent of yours or how much beautiful ye are, especially with those elfin ears.”
In his all-black outfit, with his midnight-black hair mussed, pacing the room, he reminded her of a large and dangerous beast let loose—an engulfing darkness sucking light.
He was that and so much more. He wore his intense savagery, his complete darkness, without an ounce of apology. It was so fascinating to watch she couldn’t get away, even if she knew it was not wise to stay near.
“You’re running, and it frustrates me so. You hide like a little mouse in your house in the forest. When people knock on your door, offering you a path tae success, you create the silliest excuses.” He didn’t know how to tell her he had gone behind her back; he didn’t want to scare her with the skeletons Baptist had uncovered. And worse, he didn’t have the courage to tell her he was going to cancel the exposition and that she would have to start a new life with a new name. “When I ask for a bit of your trust and love, for a chance, you decide tae run the fucking hell away. You’d rather put yourself in danger than accept my attention and protection.”