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Dirty Aristocrat(51)

By:Georgia Le Carre

He reacts swifter than a Tasmanian devil. His hand shoots out and pulls  me so hard and fast I gasp with shock as I slam into his body. His cock  juts into my belly. 'Don't play with me, Jewel.'

I look up at him defiantly. Heat glitters in his pale eyes and fierce  sexual heat has tightened his jaw. 'If Shane wants me he'll have me.'         

     



 

His eyes flash with anger, but he drawls, 'Oh, baby. You have no clue, have you?'

'Are you threatening me?'

'Take it as a warning.'

'What are you going to do, hmmm?' I challenge.

'For a start, this.' And he bends his head and crushes his mouth against  mine. The kiss is possessive and demanding. It is nothing like the  other. This one is pure punishment. With this one he is branding me.  Putting his seal of ownership on me. I twist my head and try to push  away, my knees preparing to connect hard with his crotch, when suddenly  the kiss changes and I am helpless to resist. It is a kiss like nothing I  have ever experienced. There is no discordant note. Everything about it  is hot and wet and wild.

My mouth opens and his tongue thrusts in, boldly, the way his cock would  enter my pussy. I suck on it and electric energy snaps through me,  scraping the back of my neck, as if I have received a shock from an old  electric appliance. His hands lift me off the floor and put me back down  with my legs farther apart. I feel him pull my dress up and over my  bum. I hear the small scrap of lace and satin tear and then I feel his  finger slide into my heat. I moan helplessly into his mouth.

'What the hell is going on here?' a voice demands.

His broad shoulders block my view of Shane, but I freeze with horror. My  torn panties are lying on the floor, and Jake's hard fingers are still  inside my naked pussy.

Very casually, Jake lifts his head from mine, extracts his fingers out  of me, and smoothing my dress over my hips, turns around to face his  brother. He keeps his hand firmly around my waist.

'What do you think is going on, Shane?' he asks coolly.

Shane stares at me, hurt etched in his beautiful eyes.

I try to twist out of Jake's grip, but it is iron hard. 'I'm sorry,' I whisper.

He smiles. A bitter twist of his lips and I know what he is thinking.  He'll just use you and discard you. No longer able to meet my eyes, he  draws himself up with great dignity. And at that moment I see what a  fine man he is. And how much he must have liked me before this. And I  find myself wishing that the sparks between Jake and me had flown  between him and me instead.

He nods distantly and looks out of the window. 'You will see her home safe.'

'Of course,' he replies.

'Goodnight then,' he bids and walking out of the door shuts it behind him.

Jake takes his hand away from around my waist, but his eyes never leave  mine. Feeling strangely bereft I wrap my hands around my waist. 'You  knew he was going to be here, didn't you?'

Green swirls in his eyes. 'I asked him to come.'

I nod slowly. So easily I had fallen into his trap. 'That was a very cruel thing you did.'

His voice is strangely soft, almost regretful. 'I did warn you.'

'To your brother.'

'He'll survive. He knows I have his best interest at heart,' he  dismisses callously, but I see the glimmer of a fierce loyalty to his  brother, his family. His pack.

'Why do you think I'd be so bad for your brother?'

'I think I just proved my point a few minutes ago.'

'You don't know me.'

'I beg to differ. I know exactly what you are.'

'I'd like to go home now.'

'You're staying the night. I'll get my driver to run you home tomorrow.'

My mouth drops open. 'You think I'm going to sleep with you after what  you just did? I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on  earth,' I declare with great unoriginality.

A slow masculine smile splits his face. If he was good looking before he  is devastating now. I stare at him. Jesus! I am crazy about him.

He reaches out a hand and touches my face with the backs of his fingers.  I flinch away. He drops his hand to the side of his body. 'Don't  flatter yourself. I have a date for tonight.'

Of course, Andrea Mornington of the velvet gown. Fucking bastard. At that moment I think I hate him.

'My housekeeper Maria will set you up in one of the guest bedrooms.' He  turns away from me and strides to the door. At the door he hesitates.  'Enjoy the party, won't you?' Then he is gone.

I touch my mouth with wonder. Fuck! I was a nightmare looking for a dream.





FIVE


I toss and turn on the silk sheets of the king-size bed, constantly  moving my body to find a cool spot. The air is balmy and still, but it  is the thought of him with her that makes me sick with jealousy. I keep  thinking of him pushing into her, filling her up with long, smooth  strokes.

Suddenly I hear the sound of feet in the corridor outside my room. The  noise stops outside my door. I lay dead still. Only my heart crashing  into my ribs. My eyes riveted on the door handle. He wouldn't dare. He  wouldn't fucking dare come to me after he has been with her. There is  another heart-wrenching moment of silence and then the sound of his  footsteps passes on. I sit up, feeling hot and flushed.         

     



 

He didn't come in!

I had been maddened by the thought of his audacity but now I am  devastated by acute disappointment. It rushes into my system like a  physical ache. Fuck you, I think. Fuck you, Jake Eden. I stand up and  run to the big oak door. I have my hand on the handle when I stop  myself. What the fuck are you doing? I clench my hands into fists and  press them against my mouth.

What the hell is happening to me? I feel as frustrated and unsated as if  I have been left unfinished by a lover. What is it about this man that  makes me desperate to feel him inside me? I press my ear to the door and  hear him going down the stairs.

I remove my fist from my teeth and turn the lock on the door. The metal  click is loud and final. I feel glad that I have done it. I have taken  back control. I step away from the door. My hands are shaking with  emotion. I am suddenly startled by a light coming on outside the window.  It is him. He has tripped the security lights. I move fast. I run to  the window and stand in the shadows, behind the curtains.

I watch him walk across the terrace toward the lip of the swimming pool,  full of the restless energy and the deadly grace of a puma on the  prowl. Bathed in white light, he kicks off his shoes, tugs his T-shirt  over his head, peels off his jeans, and with his thumbs pulls his  underwear to the floor. I should stop watching him. I should go back to  bed, but I can't. I am transfixed by the muscular buttocks lit by the  neon blue of the underwater lighting.

Backlit, he steps out of his underwear, and stands for a moment at the  pool's edge. I see the rough dusting of hair on his calves, then,  gloriously and fabulously naked, he turns slightly toward my window so  that his long thick dick is exposed to me. He looks up then and I feel  his gaze seeking me out.

Meeting his eyes like that is like being kicked in the guts. Wrenching.  There is nothing I can do except stand in my hiding place. Guilty.  Shameless. We stare at each other. Then he turns away and glides cleanly  into the water. For a few moments more I watch him cut powerfully  through the blue water.

Then I stumble away from the window.

At that moment I realize two things. One: the utter primitiveness of the  man, and two: the fact that I am not in charge. I never was. Fantasies  spill through my head. His hands, his tongue, his cock. Riding me until I  scream. I squeeze my thighs hard.



I sleep badly and wake up at five thirty. It is already light outside,  but blessedly cool. I get out of bed and after a quick shower pad over  to the clothes and shoes that Maria brought for me last night. Matching  peach underwear, a blue tracksuit and white sneakers, all still with  their tags on. Shockingly they all fit me perfectly. He must have random  women staying over unexpectedly all the time, I reflect sourly.

Outside my door the house is totally silent.

I walk down the grand staircase and let myself out. Mist clings to the  ground. It all looks very Sherlock Holmes and I smile to myself as I  cross the lawn and head off toward the woods.

A thundering sound breaks the peaceful stillness of the morning. I reel  around, startled. Out of the mist a man on a shining black stallion  appears. He is riding without a saddle. His horse is like him-a  terrifying presence, raven-eyed. A big brute. Hard and unyielding. I am  struck by how animal and man are so blended, so in tune.

He stops beside me. The stallion snorts restlessly. Its eyes are wild. I  drag my gaze back to the man, in awe at the sight of him on that big  black stallion. In the soft morning light his face is hard and watchful.

'Come for a ride with me,' he commands, from a long way up. He sits dead  still, his expression intense, his eyes picking up every detail of my  person. Despite the stillness there is no mistaking the intent in that  big body. At that moment it seems as if nothing can stand in his way.

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I shake my head. I have never  been on a horse, let alone a gleaming black monster like this one.