Bedded for His Pleasure: Bedded by a Bad Boy / In the Gardener's Bed / The Return of the Rebel

‘You can do it.’ He glanced up, dazzled her with that easy, confident grin she knew so well. ‘If you’re treated with the proper care and attention.’

His fingertip toyed with her nipple. A breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding gushed out. She glanced down at him hard against her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat; he was still fully aroused and he looked enormous.

His grin spread as her shocked gaze met his. ‘We were so close before. We’re going to take it real slow and easy this time and do it right.’

He levered himself up, got off the couch and pulled her up with him. Dumping the two large cushions onto the floor, he knelt on them and then tugged her down beside him. ‘Lie down.’

She did as she was told, confused and wary, feeling hideously exposed, like an offering on a sacrificial altar, as he lay down next to her.

‘Don’t look so worried.’ He kissed her. ‘The only rules are, you don’t think and you don’t touch. All right?’

‘Okay.’

Slowly, carefully, he began to stroke his fingers down the length of her. He seemed to take for ever. At first, she felt foolish, inadequate, but when his touch swept the underside of her breast, she shuddered. His fingers trailed down her arms next, catching the soft skin inside her elbow, and she gasped. Then he found the sensitive place behind her knee as he drew her legs up.

Her centre throbbed, insistent and intense. He followed his hands with his lips and when she tried all she could think of was where he would go next. Anticipation, then delight. The process was slow, delicious torture as his tongue delved and dipped, stroked and slid across her heated flesh.

She had to touch him. But when his lips closed over her nipple and she tried to grab his head, he pulled back. Capturing her wrists in one hand, he held them above her head. ‘No touching. Remember?’

‘Please, I want to feel you, too.’ The words came out on a sob as she strained against him, but he simply shook his head and held her in place.

It seemed he caressed her breasts for ever. Lathing the sensitive tips and then blowing softly, making them pucker fiercely before his appreciative gaze. Making her writhe against his controlling hands.

She panted, all thoughts flown from her head but the unbearable heat, the intense pleasure at her core. Her heart raced so fast, it would surely explode. The burning between her thighs was so intense she couldn’t draw breath. He released her wrists to circle the soft skin of her inner thighs. At last, he was going to touch her there, where she needed him most. But still his fingers teased, stroking the soft curls at the juncture. Finally, he probed within. The touch was barely there, but her sigh choked out on a sob. Then he stroked again, pushing the folds back, watching her face. His eyes held hers as she sobbed again. She was clinging to the edge of a desperate precipice. He was there now, right at the heart of the heat, making it burn.

‘I…Please, don’t stop.’ She didn’t know what she was begging for, but saw his slow grin, the blaze of desire in his eyes.

‘Let it go, Red.’

He purred the words as she shot over the edge. Everything inside her released, crashed down and then exploded into a million tiny, glittering pieces. She could hear herself, a thousand miles away, cry out on a shattered moan.

‘Come on, baby, we’re not through yet.’

She was still shivering, dazed by the aftermath of passion as he reared above her. He held her legs apart and settled between them. Angling her hips up with firm hands, he probed at her entrance and then pushed his rigid sex within in one long, slow, shocking thrust.

The fullness was unbearable. She felt stretched, impaled. But where before there had been pain, now there was only the sure, unstoppable rush of pleasure. She sobbed as passion slammed back into her full force, like a runaway train, hard and fast and out of control.

‘Look at me, Red. I want to see you do it again.’ His voice was low, thick with desire. Her eyes fixed on his face. He looked so gorgeous at that moment. The inferno built inside her with each powerful thrust.

She soared over this time, falling free as they shouted out their release together.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘WOW!’ Jessie stroked Monroe’s back. She loved the solid feel of him on top of her, his ragged breathing echoing her own.

He grunted and lifted himself up on his elbows. ‘Am I crushing you?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed, enjoying the flushed look on his face. She’d done that to him, she thought, and welcomed the rush of female power. ‘But don’t go.’ She hugged him. ‘I like it.’

He smiled, but eased away. Turning on his side, he tugged her to him with one arm. The cushions had fallen apart in their frenzy, leaving them in a dip between the two. He tucked a tendril of her flyaway hair behind her ear. ‘You’re looking kinda smug, Red.’

‘I am?’ She laughed, the sound girlish. His eyes flared with arousal. ‘That was…’ She paused. How should she say this, without sounding ridiculous? ‘That was unbelievable. I mean, I never…I never had the foggiest…’ She stumbled to a halt, realising his grin had widened. She was making an idiot of herself.

He stroked a finger slowly across her midriff. The feel of it, warm and lazy, made her shiver. ‘The foggiest?’ He chuckled. ‘Is that your cute English way of saying this was your first time?’

‘No, of course not. I’m not a virgin. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m twenty-six years old.’She wanted to sound indignant, but it was hard with his fingers trailing down to the red curls at her core.

‘But that was your first orgasm, right?’ Now who sounded smug?

‘Okay, yes, it was.’ She felt foolish, now, foolish but unbearably needy as his fingers stopped circling and he looked at her.

Pride, fierce and possessive, blazed in his eyes. ‘Well, it sure as hell won’t be your last.’ He patted her bottom. ‘You can bet on that.’ His lips quirked as he started to rise.

She reached for him. ‘Don’t go.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back.’ He knelt beside her. ‘You know, Red, you make one hell of a picture.’

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling shy, but he drew her hands away. He kissed both her palms in turn. The gesture was so gentle, so loving, it made her heart swell.

He stood up. ‘I’ll go get something to clean you up.’

As he headed for the bathroom, his words registered. She felt it then, the stickiness between her thighs. She bolted upright.

‘Monroe.’ He turned, naked and beautiful, and looked back at her. ‘I…’ Her face burned. ‘We didn’t use a condom.’

Monroe could see the fear in Jessie’s eyes. Walking back, he squatted beside her, touched the side of her face.

‘Don’t panic, Red. I don’t have any nasty diseases, I swear. This is the first time I haven’t been properly dressed for the party since I was fourteen.’ It occurred to him that he hadn’t even thought about using a condom.

‘I didn’t even think of that.’ Jessie’s face went an even brighter shade of red. ‘I’ve never done it before without protection either. You know, in case you were worried about me.’

He drew his finger slowly down her cheek, his lips curved.

‘That’s good,’ he said, feeling the swell of pride and possessiveness.

How could she be so untouched and so arousing at the same time? He realised he was starting to stir again. He stood up and reached for the jockeys still tucked into his jeans. He didn’t want to scare her. But as he took a step back towards the bathroom she got up and touched his arm.

‘Monroe, it’s not just, well…’ she swallowed audibly ‘…it’s not just communicable diseases. I’m not on the pill. I could get pregnant.’

Jessie was so embarrassed she wanted to die on the spot. One minute she’d been the flame-haired seductress she’d always wanted to be and the next a silly schoolgirl. Why hadn’t she told him she wasn’t on the pill? She was such a complete idiot.

He went very still and stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. Was he annoyed? she wondered. But he didn’t look annoyed. It was strange, but for a moment she thought he looked sad. Then he simply shook his head.

‘Come here.’ Holding her hand, he threw one of the cushions back onto the sofa, sat on it and pulled her into his lap. Tugging the throw rug off the back, he wrapped it carefully around her. ‘When’s your next period due?’ he asked in a quiet voice.

‘Not for a while. I finished one less than a week ago.’

‘I don’t think there’s much reason to worry, then. You only usually get pregnant in the middle of your cycle.’ He pulled the throw rug to one side, laid a warm palm on her belly and rubbed slowly. When he looked up, his smile was warm, but she could still see that faraway look in his eyes. ‘We’ll make sure we use protection from now on. Okay?’