Pitch Imperfect(103)

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. One of his hands clamped onto her bottom, lifting her onto the tips of her toes and pulling her against his hard shaft; the other spread tightly over her breast. “Tell me you won’t run from me, ever again.”

“Never.”

Anjuli clasped her hands around his neck and met his kiss ferociously. She would allay his fears and drown his doubts, gift him with everything she was. Hot, insistent lips left her mouth for her breast, dropping fierce, possessive kisses along her flesh. Her pussy was a heated river, banked by aching, quivering folds. She wanted to repeat that she loved him, over and over, but all she could do was gasp in pleasure, feel the velvet texture of his cock, sandwiched between their bodies.

The sensation of rising into the sky.

Anjuli grasped his shaft and a sharp rasp came from Rob’s throat. Slowly, she tightened her grip and travelled up his length, teasing him with her sensuous rhythm. His teeth grazed her nipple and she moaned as he retaliated, sliding a finger inside her swollen cleft. And then he tortured her, playing with her wetness, pressing on the hard nub and summoning short, rapid gasps followed by an almost frantic moan. She increased her strokes and he jerked in her hand.

His voice was guttural. “I’ve no’ had sex since London and for a while before that, and I’ll no’ go for long if you do that.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Anjuli whispered, guiding him where she wanted. “I want you to come.”

With a groan he cupped her bottom and wrapped her legs around his thighs. He lowered his hips and pushed up and into her slick warmth. Strong arms and muscular hips supported her as he stroked into her. She was lost in his movement, in the hot, smooth feel of his cock. Penetrating her inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, he coated himself in her juice until he was covered to the root. Her mouth opened and she emitted a sigh...a whimper...a scream. She wasn’t going to last long either.

“Rob,” she said, clutching his shoulders. “Please...”

“No’ yet,” he answered.

His face was strained with pleasure, taut with the struggle not to lose control. She wanted him hard and fast—crescendo, accelerando, crescendo—but he refused to hurry. She was full of music and she was full of Rob. His cock pounded inside her like a drum and her body echoed that rhythm, her pleasure tied to each beat until she was catapulted into pure bliss, clenching around him uncontrollably. Ecstasy, far too intense to be held captive, released in long moans as her body seemed to erupt, then evaporate into nothingness.

Rob’s hoarse, rasping breath echoed off the turret walls. His thrust intensified and then he stiffened, releasing his pleasure with long, throaty growls. She could feel the heat of his eruption, hot jets pouring into her, melting her bones and turning her to putty. His buttocks clenched under her legs as he climaxed, his lips at the hollow in her neck.

Was he saying something? If he was she couldn’t understand it, but then it didn’t matter anymore. He’d captured her mouth and he was saying it with his arms, tight around her back, clamping her close as if he would shackle her to him forever. Small, electric aftershocks hummed between them like little encores, prolonging their enjoyment.

Wonderingly, Anjuli tilted her head back and looked at the sky. The first stars had appeared, shining distantly above them.

If they could speak, what would they say about her?

Brazen hussy and proud of it. Anjuli smiled, listening to the rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. “You should read Chapter six.”

Rob laughed, an exultant sound that filled her with joy. “Does Lord Douglas buy a pacemaker? I’m going to need one after carrying you back down.”

She returned his hard kiss. “I’ll let you off the hook if you cook dinner. I’m starving.”

He groaned and lifted her into his arms. “I’ll make an appointment with my GP.”

* * *

Smoked salmon omelette, crusty bread and a green salad. Rob didn’t think his meal plan was too bad. He looked inside the fridge, wondering what else he could make. Anjuli might be penniless but her fridge hadn’t been told. Imported mangoes, asparagus...expensive wine...While she showered, he put a bottle of white on ice and beat the eggs with the salmon. He looked at the mixture quizzically.

What would Ben do? He’d take the steps two at a time and join his woman in the shower, that’s what. Rob grinned. Much as he wanted to emulate his brother, if he joined Anjuli upstairs he’d keep her there and he had something else he wanted to give her beside the key to the castle, if she would take it. So he’d settle for sprinkling some of whatever that green herb was over the cooking omelette.