CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CECI AND CLARKE
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ceci and Clarke
Ceci
His warm breath dusted her flesh as he lowered himself.
He was on his knees. She gazed down at him.
“What are you doing? You won.”
“I know that.”
That’s not Sir Stick’s voice.
It was the voice of the Man in the Iron Mask. Low and laced with a rough edge that made her entire body quiver. As a hush escaped her lips, her body jerked.
She could see he caught it. He grinned.
Cocky son-of-a—
His hands slipped under her nightgown and traveled up her thighs, his skin smooth like liquid silk until the coarse patches on his palms scraped her flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Those hands stopped suddenly when they reached her hips.
His eyes flashed. They’d always resembled warm caramel, but now she saw silver and gold flints suddenly flicker and then disappear, like pulsating pixies jumping out from behind trees in the forest, set on doing mischief.
“You’re not wearing any panties. Were you expecting me?”
Shivering, she shook her head.
Narrowing his eyes, he stroked her skin, his thumbs skating back and forth, back and forth.
“You are a woman of honor, are you not?”
WTF?
“What?”
“You said I could have what my heart and body most desire. You’re going to honor that promise, aren’t you?”
Yes, she kept thinking. Yes. But her breathing felt so stilted and so harried, she couldn’t seem to fill her lungs with enough oxygen to form the word.
“You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”
No. But again the word wouldn’t come, so she just shook her head.
“Good.” He smiled and those silver and gold flints danced.
He removed his hands from her hips and lifted her nightgown.
She knew where he was looking; she could feel his hot breath and then his thumb tracing all three sides of her triangle.
The square of the hypotenuse is equal to … what … what the fuck is it equal to?
“So you are a natural blonde.”
His hand slipped between her thighs, and one finger slid in between the lips of her pussy.
Fuck.
“Damn,” he groaned. “Is it the fencing?”
Looking up at her, he plunged his finger inside, and her pussy clenched the thing like it was the elixir of life, the philosopher’s stone, and the Holy Grail.
“Or is it me? Tell me, Cecilia, how did you get so wet?”
She jolted as sparks of electricity morphed into bees buzzing up and down her flesh.
“You are so …” Slowly, he put two fingers in. “So …” And then with some effort, three.
A cry escaped her lips as she began to shake. Now those bees were waving sparklers, which shattered into a fireworks show featuring the US Navy Blue Angels and the US Air Force Thunderbirds.
“So tight.”
His eyes were on fire, but his lips—
Is he grinning? Yes, the fucker is grinning.
“I hope that’s not going to be a problem.”
He pulled out his fingers and slid them over the length of her pussy.
No. No problem.
“You haven’t answered my question, which is it?” he asked, as one finger teased her clit. “The fencing? Or me?”
Lord have mercy.
She blinked.
But not too much.
“B-b-both,” she managed to blurt.
“I see. So it’s me with a sword. What about a rifle?”
She nodded.
He chuckled. “Behind the wheel of a car?”
Oh God, yes, definitely behind the wheel of a car.
She still couldn’t find breath enough to speak. So, she just kept nodding.
“So what you’re telling me is it’s me … doing just about anything, including this.”
He kept his gaze fixed on hers as he brushed the tip of her clit and then began to flick it with his finger.
And the US Navy Blue Angels and the US Air Force Thunderbirds came roaring back for an encore.
She slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the scream that was about to erupt.
His grin could rival that of the Cheshire cat.
“Which I can do for a very long time. And that means I can keep you just as you are now. For as long as I want. I’m a patient man.”
That delicious, heavy, wet heat between her thighs was making it difficult to stand.
Finally, she gathered up enough breath to choke out the words.
“You’re mighty cocky. What makes you so sure?”
“This,” he uttered, as he swept his fingers over her soaked pussy. “And this,” he said as he plunged two fingers into that pool of fire.
She gasped.
After he pulled them out, one finger followed the trickle that was now traveling down her inner thigh. “And this.”
Suddenly his face disappeared.
What is he doing?
She felt only his hot breath. It tickled and teased her, sweeping up and down her pussy, and then suddenly her body jerked as his wet plump tongue entered her, like some kind of subterranean dark creature.
Her legs trembled.
Finally that thing came up for air and slithered to her clit.
Holy fuck!
“Ceci,” he moaned. “You taste like vanilla and dulce de leche.”
The wet weight of that greedy tongue and the fierce heat of his breath shot through her like a five-alarm fire, putting every square inch of her on alert. All the cells in her body had become heavy and landed with a throbbing thud between her thighs.
There was no way she could remain standing. Not given what he was doing.
“Wait,” she cried.
“I don’t want to wait,” he murmured as his measured and methodical tongue licked every inch of her, as if it was conducting a symposium on the female anatomy.
But he made a point of always stopping short of her clit, pulling back so that his lips hovered above it, and she could feel the steam from his breath as he whispered something she couldn’t make out.
Bastard.
She moaned. “You do know that given you’re not looking at me when you speak, that means you’re speaking to my vagina.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Ceci. This is serious business.”
He flicked her clit with his tongue and then began to suck on it.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.
“Will you tell me if it speaks back to you?” she groaned.
“What if it speaks Gaelic?”
“What?” she sputtered, part laugh and part harried breath. “It can’t speak Gaelic. I don’t speak Gaelic and you don’t speak Gaelic.”
“Iss toosa an kroo-hih-or iss awl-ye a khuh-nick …”
Oh, fuck no.
She shut her eyes and every hiss, kick and cluck, every harsh and guttural consonant assaulted her clit, until all she could see was flashing light and her pussy was pounding and screaming for mercy.
“May ree-uv, an kroo-hih-or iss awl-ye a vee shay ina on-oor agus free-vleh-dih agam a khuh-hoo i mo law-ha.”
Her voice was so shaky and breathy, she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Now be quiet.”
“But I’m going to—”
“You’re not.”
“How do you even know what I was going to say?”
“You’re not going to fall because I won’t let you. You do trust me, don’t you?”
Trust you?
The man just spoke Gaelic to my vagina.
“I—I—” she faltered as his tongue slid the length of her and then flicked her clit again. And again. And again. “Yes,” she shouted. Shit, she thought, biting down on her knuckles. “I do,” she murmured. “I do. I do. Oh God, oh Jesus …”
“No, Ceci, not the father or the son, just me—is that not enough for you?”
“Yes,” she groaned. “Enough. Enough. More than enough.”
“Then show me,” he murmured, his words and his breath sweeping over her clit and punctuated by his tongue. “I won’t stop until you do. You’ve seen me on the track. You know I’m the most patient driver out there. You know I can be relentless. When I want to be.”
“Do you? Want to be?”
“Relentless? Oh, yes,” he hummed, sucking on her clit. “Which means you’re going to have to tell me when to stop. Not with words but with your body. Can you do that for me?”
A million hummingbirds trapped beneath her skin, flying madly about and trying to escape, finally broke free. And every cell in her began to shake.
“Yes, yes, oh, God, yes, Sir Galahad, yes,” she screamed.
That’s when the ground opened up and she fell.
But he was there to catch her. It took her a moment to stop trembling. Once she did, a blissful warmth flooded her body.
When she opened her eyes, he was grinning at her.
“Did you just call me Sir Galahad?”
Clarke
He pinned her to the ground and climbed on top of her.
She shook her head vehemently. “No, you just heard what you wanted to.”
He lowered himself, planting soft kisses along her neck. Then he took her earlobe between his teeth, skating gently over it, before he placed his lips next to her ear.
“You said it,” he whispered.
“How could you hear anything when you had your head in my vagina?”
“Because you screamed it. And before I’m finished with you, you’re going to scream it again.”
He shook his pajama bottoms loose. He didn’t even have to open her legs. She did it for him. He slipped inside, gently.
Hot damn.
“Oh, Cecilia,” he groaned.
If there is a heaven, Cecilia Rivers must be one of its angels.
He would do this slow, much as he wanted to bang her so hard the entire house would shake.
He gazed down at her, those stormy-gray eyes and those lips, those cherry-red lips.
“You’ll never have to worry about me addressing you as a dessert,” he murmured. “You taste so much better than any dessert ever could.”
“How can you know?” Her voice was breathy as he moved in and out. “You haven’t tasted every dessert, have you? You hadn’t even had deep-fried s’mores before—”
He thrust his cock deep inside her.
You. There’s so much I didn’t. Before you.
“I’ll taste any dessert you want. But after I do, you’ll have to let me taste you. So I can compare.”
When her only response was to gaze back at him with hooded eyes, he added, “Are you okay with that?”
She nodded. “Do you realize you called me by my name, not the shortened one?”
“I do, Cecilia. But I’m still waiting for you to address me by mine.”
“Leo?”
“No, by a name that is befitting.”
She started to chuckle, but he pushed in so deep, she gasped.
“Befitting?” she choked.
“Yes, befitting the man who can get you this wet, whether he has a sword in his hand or a rifle, or is behind the wheel of a car.” He lowered himself and felt her shiver when his lips brushed against her ear and his breath entered it. “I bet even the sound of my voice can do it.”
Her pussy put his cock in a vise grip.
Fuck.
“You’re forgetting one thing,” she said.
“What is that?” he groaned.
“The way things stand now, it’s you that has to maintain control. Not me.”
She was right, in this position, he was at a disadvantage. He was much more likely to come, and soon, he thought, as his dick slipped in and out of her tight, wet pussy.
In one swift motion, he rolled over, taking her with him so that she was on top. He could feel her clit slide against his cock as she placed both hands on the floor and pushed herself up.
Damn, the thing is the size of a plum.
He placed one finger on it.
“Oh God, oh Jesus.”
“No, Ceci. Only me. Sir Galahad.”
“I am not going to say that. You can’t make me. Now stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Your fingers. Move your fingers.”
“This way?” He brushed her clit in a circular motion clockwise. “Or this way?” he said as he switched direction.
“No.” Her breath faltered. “Not move. Remove.”
“You want me to remove my finger?”
He did and she shook her head.
“You’re very indecisive, Cecilia.”
She glared at him. Suddenly and without warning, she removed both her hands and fell smack on top of him. He barely had time to get his finger out of the way, but he was still inside her.
She flashed a satisfied smile at him. “I’m not going to move. Not even one inch. Now what?”
He reached around and fingered her asshole.
Now her pussy had his cock in a death grip.
Fuck.
She pulled herself up.
“Come on, Ceci. You can do this one little thing for me, can’t you? When I’m so good to you. I am good to you, am I not?”
Shutting her eyes, she nodded and flinched as the tip of his finger entered.
“Good. Good. So. Good.”
“Slide up and down my cock then.”
She did. That tight wet pussy swallowed his dick until that death grip set off an explosion, shaking every inch of him so violently he momentarily lost where he was. Until her voice brought him back.
“Yes, Sir Galahad! Most noble and pure! The best of all knights!”
After that, she collapsed on top of him.
Surely if there is a heaven, he thought, as he stroked her hair, she has to be there.
She placed her lips next to his ear and muttered, “If there’s a hell, you’re going there. Because you, Sir Stick Up His Ass, are a fucking asshole.”