“Good girl. Now, I want you to put your hands against that wall and spread your legs.”
“Jack—”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
She flinched, then settled herself against the wall. Her fingers clenched and her knees trembled slightly as she sought balance in the high heels. A rustle sounded behind her. A rush of his scent. Then warm, strong hands stroking back her hair and coasting down her back, as if soothing a wild mare. She moaned deep and her skin immediately burned. He kept his touch gentle, tracing the sensitive line of her spine, each curved buttock, the top of her thighs. He slipped a hand between her legs to push her thighs farther apart, then tested the wetness between her legs.
She gritted her teeth against the pull of those talented fingers as he teased her pink bud and coaxed more moisture to drip over his hand, then used it to lubricate her further, testing the limits of her control. She arched back in pure need, desperate for those fingers to push deep inside and then—
A sharp slap echoed in the room. She cried out at the hard sting on her bottom, then wiggled as the slight pain hit, followed by a rush of heat and pleasure. She lifted her hands from the wall and tried to turn.
“Back to the wall, Julianna. Don’t make me say it again.”
Her arms shook, but she resumed position. A wildness soared through her veins as she realized she had no control over what he could or would do to her. His hands drifted upward to play with her breasts. One finger traced the delicate lace around her areoles, scraping the fabric against her rigid nipples. Julianna fought for breath as his thumbs pinched, rolled, and worked the hard tips until they poked out in demand. He continued the caress and lulled her into a sensuous cocoon.
Smack.
She flinched as his hand came down hard on her naked ass. Julianna made sure to block her initial reaction of retreat and kept her hands on the wall. A low growl of satisfaction rumbled against her ear, and suddenly she felt him gloriously naked and pressed against back, his huge erection settling between her thighs. “Good girl. You deserve a reward.” He took off her thong, bent, and lifted her leg up, hooking her thigh over his arm. Fully exposed now, he used his other hand to push his fingers between her swollen folds to rub steadily back and forth. Pleasure squeezed her mercilessly as she strained for release. At the edge, she bucked her hips, and suddenly he ripped her away from the wall, bent her over his knee and smacked her ass with force.
Burning pain flooded her backside, then released another rush of juices. Once, twice, the punishing sting of his hand made her cry out. Before she caught her breath, he plunged four fingers into her, hitting her g-spot, and pushed her over the edge.
Julianna screamed and came hard, all the muscles in her body tightening and then convulsing with sheer pleasure. She slumped over his knee as he stroked her back and murmured soothing words in her ear. He gathered her into his arms and laid her on the bed, sliding next to her and pushing back her sweat dampened hair. “You’re amazing,” he whispered in her ear, his teeth nibbling on her sensitive lobe. “I have so much I want to teach you. But I’m not done yet.”
“I can’t, Jack.” Sated and limp, her eyelids felt heavy, but he shushed her and began to bring her back up. His fingers coasted with gentleness, and she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth as she floated. Incredibly, her body tightened again, waiting for more, wanting him, and he sheathed himself with a condom and plunged into her heat.
He stroked her with his cock, long and deep, building to a slow and steady rhythm that drove her already wrecked body to the final culmination. She climaxed again and with a hoarse shout, he followed her over the brink.
When Julianna surfaced, she found him sprawled halfway on top of her, one leg holding her down to the bed as if afraid she’d escape. She wiggled to a more comfortable position and he let out a groan, then rolled over.
“I think you killed me,” she said. She stretched one leg out, then another and wriggled her toes, still clad in stilettos.
“Part of my evil plan to keep you to myself.”
Julianna hesitated, unsure if he was joking. But he leaned over to drop a kiss on her nose, and gave her a smile. “Where did you learn to do all that?”
Jack laughed. “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re the beneficiary of my practice.”
She laid her head on his chest and wondered how she was able to give this man such a raw, honest response. She barely knew him. Julianna ached to ask a thousand questions, but fought the instinct and tried for casual. “What imported you from England to our humble town?”
He stilled beneath her. Jack remained silent for a few moments as if deciding how much to share. “My family owns a business and they want me to take over. I’m not ready to settle down yet, so I took off with my boat to do some travelling. Meet new people.”
Peter Pan syndrome. Just as she thought. “What did your parents think of your decision?”
“My father died recently, so it’s just my mom. She agreed to give me the time I need for myself.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know about your dad. Were you close?”
“Yes. We didn’t agree on certain issues, but he taught me how to sail. Taught me to be a man and take care of the things and people I love. I miss him every damn day.”
Her arms tightened around him and for a little while, she felt completely connected to the boy inside who just wanted his father back. “What’s your mom like?” she asked.
“Tough. Doesn’t let me get away with anything. Keeps the household and family together. Doesn’t take any crap.”
Julianna laughed. “A woman who gets the job done. Someone I can respect.”
“Was your mom always sick?”
She sighed, trailing her fingers down his chest. “When I was little, we had some great moments. She was spontaneous and fun and loving. She’d wake me up late at night and we’d sneak outside to lie on a blanket and look at the stars. She cooked fabulous six- course meals with sparkling china and fresh flowers. We dressed up in princess gowns and ate like royalty. I lived for those moments, but they came less often. I mostly remember not having lunch for school, or her forgetting to pick me up after a birthday party, or waiting outside her door because she spent days in her bedroom crying.”
“Who took care of you?”
She shrugged. “My dad. We had a few nannies, but they never stayed. Dad liked his privacy, especially since we never knew what mom would do. It became easier for me to take care of things. It was difficult for them when I went away at college my first year, so I ended up leaving at the end of the semester and finished my degree online."
“In poetry?"
“English literature with a concentration in poetry. I wanted to teach college, but for a full-time faculty job I’d need a PhD."
He grinned. "The first time I met you I thought, professor or accountant."
She made a face. "I know. I'm boring. Always was."
He grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Temper rippled from his figure, as if her last words irritated him. "What's your favorite poem?"
Julianna blinked. "I have many. Whitman, Moore, Lawrence—"
"Recite the first one that comes to mind."
She hesitated, then spoke slowly as the last few stanzas took shape.
This rare, rich night! For in here
Under the yew-tree tent
The darkness is loveliest where I could sear
You like frankincense into scent.
Here not even the stars can spy us,
Not even the white moths write
With their little pale signs on the wall, to try us
And set us affright.
Kiss but then the dust from off my lips,