A Knight in Central Park(90)

Her fingers clutched the furs beneath her so as not to give away the urgency she felt.

“No resistance?” he asked. “No opposing defenses?”

“Never,” she said, feeling breathless as his palm glided over her thigh, teasing her and making her yearn for more. She raised her hips the slightest bit, hinting for just that.

Waves of excitement rippled through her body as he continued his exploration. She leaned her head back, inhaling deeply as his touch filled her with exhilaration. Never in this lifetime would she have dreamt that a man touching her so intimately could feel so pleasant, so freeing. She clutched the mattress as his hands continued their lovely assault. ’Twas difficult to breathe as her pleasure mounted. She was ready, and she wanted him inside of her. “Please,” she cried. “The beast...where is the beast?”

She saw the gleam of his pearly white teeth as he smiled down upon her, teasing her further when he asked, “What is it you want, Alexandra?”

“Do not tease. ’Tis cruel to do so. Lay claim to that which is presently yours, Sir Joe. I demand that you do so.”

He laughed, then moved himself over her, causing her to gasp in the darkness when he lowered his mouth to her warm flesh.

She shuddered. “Oh, you do not play fair,” she said between heavy breaths as he lifted his head and then moved upward, bringing himself full upon her. The mounting anticipation was quickly replaced with blissful ecstasy as she climaxed instantaneously, unable to contain a string of shuddering moans. Her sweet release lingered on as he covered her neck and collar bone with kisses.

She raked her fingers through his hair, urging his mouth impossibly closer, tight against her breast. She climaxed yet again, breathless, satisfied, and he pulled out before he exploded himself, letting his seed fall to the linen sheet.

Alexandra cuddled closer to his chest after he laid his head back on the mounds of pillows, trying hard not to be bothered by the fact that he refused to spill his seed within her. His pulling out only confirmed his eventual departure. She refused to think of it now, could not bear to imagine him living centuries out of reach.

A light whistling sound came through the wind-holes carved in the limestone walls as she looked at Sir Joe. “If you could leave this very moment, would you?”

“Alexandra,” is all he said as his hand lingered on her side. But no other words were forthcoming, which was indeed an answer in itself.

He would leave her.

After all they had shared, he would leave her.

“Do you truly not love me?” she asked.

Silence followed by an answer worse than silence. “I don’t know,” he said. “I honestly don’t know.”

“But yester morn, during the play, I thought...I thought perhaps you might have been speaking from the heart.”

He propped himself in a position that would allow him to look into her eyes, wincing from the pain in his arm. “I swear, Alexandra. I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m not sure I even know what love is. And even if I did, I don’t think I could ever love you the way you want to be loved...the way you deserve to be loved.”

“I love you,” she said, putting a finger to his lips before he could tell her otherwise. “You cannot take that away from me. I do not say the words to cause you guilt. I only say them because my heart tells me I must. I cannot bear to let you leave without fully telling you how I feel.”

“Alexandra—”

“Nay, let me finish, ’Tis all I ask.”

His heavy sigh stirred her hair.

“I love you not because of what we have shared in bed, or because you possess a handsome face, although both certainly add to your appeal.”

He pulled in a long breath, his hand resting on her thigh.

“I love you for keeping your promise, risking your very life in doing so. You are much braver than you let on. Fearless is what you have proven yourself to be, despite your kindliness toward my siblings and your obsession with cleanliness.”

He raised a brow.

“I do not lie.”

“No,” he said, “this time you do not lie.”

She propped herself on an elbow. “This time?”

He nodded. “You do trip over your tongue when you lie, you know. Your eyes grow round when you’re in the middle of telling one, almost as if you’ve already been found guilty.”

“You act as if I have been lying through my teeth since we met.”

“No,” he disagreed, his voice soft and reassuring. “Only twice...maybe three times. For instance, just before you let me walk off with that fake rock. And then again when you and your grandfather pretended to have a plan. And then...”