Knight's Mistress
Page 55

 C.C. Gibbs

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‘Really, really good.’
He glanced up. ‘Are you always so easily aroused?’ He didn’t mean for his voice to be edgy. ‘Sorry,’ he quickly said, grinning. ‘Just asking.’
‘I’m not – or haven’t been until now. You get the gold star.’
‘In that case, I’ll have to see that I perform up to the required standards.’
‘I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you.’ It was her turn to quash her displeasure. ‘And I mean that most sincerely,’ she added with a smile.
He grinned. ‘It’s amazing what an orgasm can do for one’s serenity, isn’t it?’
She nodded, her gaze amused. ‘I think I found inner peace.’
‘Same here, babe. At least temporarily. Now let’s see what I can do to make you glimpse Nirvana again.’ He lobbed the wet washcloth through the bathroom door and turning back, eased her into the centre of the bed. Spreading her legs with a gentle brush of his palms, he lay down, lifted one of her legs on his shoulder to give himself enough room, then settled on his stomach between her legs. He looked up and smiled. ‘Something simple first. Foreplay 101.’ He slid his finger up her cleft, softly touched her clit at the top of his stroke, felt her leg on his shoulder relax, and following his finger with his mouth, licked a path up and down her soft, pink flesh.
She softly exhaled, flexed her hips faintly, and sucked in her breath as he gently nipped at her. He was fastidious in his attentions, licking, sucking, concentrating more and more on her clit, bringing her up to a frantic panting, then easing the tension by moving on to less sensitive areas. He kissed her inner thighs, moving down to her calves, ankles, feet, his lips smooth, warm, tantalizing.
And when she whimpered in overt demand, he glanced at her. He was kneeling, her foot resting on his thigh, his thumbs massaging the sole of her foot to exquisite effect. ‘Patience. It only gets better.’ His thumbs were centred on the curve of her heel where the pressure points for her pelvis lay.
‘I don’t want to wait,’ she fretfully murmured.
‘You have to. Feel this?’
She softly groaned.
‘And this?’ Her pelvis came up as he pressed his thumb into her heel. ‘See, you liked that.’ Raising his other hand, he placed a palm on her mons and forced her back down, the tips of his fingers strategically placed over her G-spot.
He played nice for a very long time; his repertoire beyond fucking was extensive. And when he finally let her climax – purely with massage – she came in a long, drawn-out progression of screaming orgasms that pleased them both.
Dropping into a sprawl beside the breathless woman in his bed, Dominic kissed the corners of Kate’s mouth, her throat, her eyelids as she lay, eyes shut, basking in the glow. ‘After lunch, we’ll go somewhere quiet, no people, just us.’
She smiled and uttered a soft purr of assent.
Resting on one elbow, he ran his finger down her arm, then up again in a gentle rhythm, his touch whisper-soft, and watched her fall asleep before his eyes. Like a child, he thought with a smile. Although in all else, she was lush, bewitching temptation. The kind of woman that brought men to their knees. He grinned. Later – when their privacy was assured.
Rolling off the bed, he bent and lightly kissed her cheek.
He didn’t believe in magic, but if he did, he would have found her magical. A sweet escape from the cynicism of his life.
Although a glance at the clock brought reality back with a vengeance.
One fifty.
Miss Hart wasn’t used to being up all night. He’d let her sleep for a half-hour or so, then come up and get her. Covering his sleeping beauty with a blanket, he quickly dressed and went downstairs to have lunch with his mother.
It helped that his psyche was cushioned by a warm euphoria after an hour in bed with Miss Hart.
He could handle anything now – even his mother.
CHAPTER 15
‘Really, Dominic, must you?’ his mother snapped as he walked into the dining room. ‘You reek of sex.’
‘You’re mistaken, Mother. Like you are so often about my life,’ he said, taking his seat at the head of the table, waving a servant over to fill his wine glass. ‘Did you have a pleasant time shopping? I see you bought a few things.’ The hall was filled with boxes.
‘I suppose that woman won’t face me now.’
‘Miss Hart is not “that woman”. She happens to be on a conference call. She’ll be down as soon as it’s over. As you know, Mother, if not for Miss Hart, the manager at our factory in Romania would have stolen twenty million from me. So kindly put your suspicions aside. Everyone isn’t focused on sex.’ He nodded at the servant. ‘Leave the bottle and bring another.’
‘You figure often enough in the tabloids, the headlines are often risqué, as I recall.’
‘The tabloids are entertainment, not news. I hope you don’t spend too much time reading them.’ He smiled at the young man serving his soup. ‘It smells good, Zhu.’ Shrimp bisque; that should be French enough.
His mother barely touched her food as usual, moving it around her bowl or on her plate in the manner of ladies who lunch. As if he wouldn’t notice she didn’t swallow anything. Not that he cared. He ate everything in sight. Sex always made him hungry. When he was served the steak and fries he’d asked for in addition to the quiche his chef had prepared for lunch, his mother snidely said, ‘You should watch your calories, Dominic. If you eat that much at every meal, you’ll soon be as fat as your father.’