I heard his words as if at a distance, my mind suddenly recalling an appalling little detail I’d read in a tabloid, about James and Jules both coming from affluent English families who both shared a long history as avid equestrians.
“Was it her?” I asked in a whisper, my eyes narrowed.
He squeezed me more tightly against him, as if sensing a threat. He buried his face in my neck before he spoke. “Who are you referring to?”
I stiffened even more. “Jules,” I said, my voice going glacial.
I felt him sigh against me. “It was. But it didn’t mean anything. Please don’t use her to keep me at a distance.”
I tried to move off of him, but he had me at a severe disadvantage, and he wasn’t letting me go.
Instead, he clicked Demon back into a brisk walk.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He began to move inside of me again, his erection swiftly growing and hardening, as though it were a parlor trick.
I gasped, slapping at his shoulders. “You can’t use sex to subdue me,” I told him. I was hurt and angry, but also unwillingly and wildly aroused.
“You can’t withdraw from me every time you get mad or jealous. We need to talk this out. I’m not letting you go until we do.”
I pulled on his hair, hard, but my h*ps were already moving unbidden with his thrusts. “You call this talking?”
“I call this making love, and yes, talking.” He tried to smile at me. I yanked on his sweaty hair. He winced, but made no move to stop me.
“Why do you keep calling it that? Why do you keep calling it making love?”
He gave me a smoldering look. “You know why. You keep trying to belittle what we have, but you need to understand that it’s as new to me as it is to you. I have a past. A wildly sordid past. I can’t change it. I would if I could. You are going to run into a lot of my ex-lovers. That’s an unfortunate fact.
It will be a lot less painful for you if you can just get it into your head that none of them were anything but a f**k to me. And f**king was nothing to me before I met you. Sex was a bodily function to me before I met you. That’s why I call this making love. It means something to me.”
“I’ve never even had a girlfriend before you, never even considered the idea. I’m sure it sounds callous, but no woman has ever been anything to me beyond a fuck, a sub, or a friend, occasionally all three, though never all of them for long. They all knew the score. I was brutally honest with every single one of them, without exception. You are the one that I want, the one that I need. So getting upset about my past, or feeling jealous of women I’ve been with, is unwarranted.”
He never stopped moving as he spoke, and I felt emotionally charged.
“Unwarranted?” The word burst out of me, angry and wounded. “I’ve years worth of pictures of you going out with Jules. How can you expect me to dismiss that out of hand?” I gasped as he thrust harder, a deliberate motion, his eyes intense. “Unfair,” I muttered. “And you are hardly one to talk. I was a virgin when I met you, but you’re still jealous of every man I speak to. That’s unwarranted.”
He lifted me up and down for several long, fast strokes before he spoke. He was playing me like a drum, I knew. It was very hard to stick to my point when I was insanely turned on, and in the middle of getting thoroughly f**ked. “When I was about eighteen, the paparazzi were hounding me relentlessly, printing silly stories that drove me crazy. They were hiding in the bushes when I left school. It was out of control.”
I tried my hardest to focus on his words, but he wasn’t helping, still moving inside of me tirelessly.
“You know how I need control,” he growled.
He thrust harder, clicking Demon into a hard trot. He clicked again, and the motion took us into a canter. This movement was unfamiliar to my limited riding skills, and I clutched at James’s shoulders in panic. His thrusts were more measured at this pace. I was falling apart almost instantly.
“Come,” he ordered roughly. It took me over the edge. He slowed back to a walk, but still didn’t stop.
“You know how I need control,” he repeated. “But the things they were doing were completely out of my control, and I realized one day that the press was like a garden hose,” he explained.
I blinked at him, dazed and confused. “A garden hose?” I asked.
He gave me a gentle smile, enjoying the complete loss of my composure. “A garden hose. If you turn it on too lightly, you can’t control the flow. It just drips where it will. But if you turn it to full force, you can control the flow, sending it wherever you want. So I began to court the paparazzi, rather than ducking away. I encouraged their attentions by charming them, and publicly, becoming an open book. Or rather, making it appear that way. Jules was my best friend’s sister, and occasionally, a very casual lover of mine, and we’d been friends for awhile. We were seen out and about together, since we traveled in the same circles. I quickly noticed that she loved the attention, encouraging rumors about us shamelessly, even leaking lies to the press about us.”
His eyes were solemn and serious on my face as he continued, “I see now that it was stupid to let her take it so far, but at the time I couldn’t see a problem with it. Other women thought she and I had an open relationship, so no one tried for anything more with me. It saved me from worse misunderstandings, for a time. I see that it looks bad, but I want you to trust me that that’s all it was. Jules is not someone you need to worry about.”
He began to move in earnest after that little speech, and he undid me yet again, bringing me to release at a trot. I sobbed his name, gripping his hair in tight fists. He came with me that time, his eyes going so soft that unwanted tears pricked my eyes.
He slowed Demon to a walk. He leaned me back slightly, his eyes moving down to where our bodies joined. He ran his tongue over his model perfect teeth as he studied the sight. My own gaze followed his. The sight that greeted me made my barely steadied breath catch.
I was still impaled on him, my moisture mixing with his on the thick base of his shaft as he shifted me slightly up and back.
His voice was low with pleasure when he spoke. “You’re so full of my sem*n right now. You’re stuffed full of my c*ck and my cum. I want to keep you like this forever. I might have gotten you pregnant just now, if you weren’t on the pill.”
His words made me stiffen, the sensual haze lifting from me in an instant. I tried to shift off of him. He had to help me lift off of his semi-hard length.
He pulled me flush against him, his c*ck between us. “Wrap your arms and legs around me tightly. I’m going to dismount. Too much more of this and I’ll make you too raw to f**k for days.”
I did as he said. “I thought it was making love,” I told him archly.
He sent me a censorious look. “Sassy girl.”
He set me on unsteady feet, leaning me against Demon when I swayed.
“Get your balance. I need to catch Princess.”
He fastened his trousers while he walked away. Princess was still visible, though she was quite a ways behind us. It seemed she had been trailing us, albeit slowly.
I hadn’t noticed, for obvious reasons.
Demon didn’t protest as I leaned against him heavily, watching James stride to Princess purposefully, vaulting onto her back in that smooth motion that seemed impossible, given the height. He rode her back to us at a smooth canter, stopping smoothly beside us and dismounting with the grace of a panther.
He studied me from head to foot, his eyes lingering appreciatively on the sight of my bared sex. He moved to a pouch on his saddle as he spoke. “I take it from your reaction that you don’t want children any time soon.” His tone was almost idle, as though it were the most casual topic in the world.
I looked at him incredulously. “Or ever. I’m way too f**ked up to ever be a mother,” I said, my tone final.
He didn’t take the hint. “Why would you think that? Because of your childhood?” He turned to look at me as he pulled a rolled up pair of jeans from the pouch.
“Yes, of course, because of that. My mind is too clouded with dark things. Mother’s are supposed to be, I don’t know, happy, and full of love. They should be able to give and receive love, and I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” I flushed at what I’d revealed. I was embarrassed by how screwed up I was, but he needed to know.
He moved to me as I spoke, cupping my cheeks, his eyes impossibly tender. “Oh, Bianca, that’s just not true. You think only the people with perfect childhoods should be parents?”
I mulled it over, finding the answer easily. “Of course not.”
“You probably think someone like me should never be a father.”
I blinked, mortified that he would think such a thing. “Of course not. I think you’ll be great at it, when you have children. You’re so patient, and controlled.”
He stroked my cheeks, giving me a look so intense that I had to fight the urge not to look away. It was so much like trying to stare into the sun. “So will you. But if you never want to have children, I can live with that, as well.”
My heart stopped, just stopped, then began to pound as though I’d just run a marathon. “What are you saying?”
He kissed me, a long, heated kiss. “Nothing. You just aren’t ready to talk about this. I don’t want to scare you off again.”
I took deep breaths, trying not to panic at what I knew he’d almost said.
He shrugged the whole thing off, slinging my jeans over his shoulder and digging back into the saddlebag. He pulled out some packed wet cloths, unbuttoning his trousers to wipe our mingled fluids off.
I watched him touch himself, biting my lip. How could I still want him with such desperation when he’d just had me, again and again? I didn’t know, but there it was.
He disposed of the wipe in a small bag, taking out more wipes to clean me. His gaze was scorching as he cleaned me, eyeing me from top to bottom in a sexy once over.
“Keep looking at me like that if you want to get f**ked against a horse,” he warned.
I looked away, moving against his searching fingers as he cleaned me. He smacked my bare ass roughly with his other hand.
“I’m trying not to f**k you raw. Don’t make it harder.” His tone was so stern that I just got more turned on.
I closed my eyes, still biting my lip.
He growled, dragging me over to a tree. He placed my hands against the rough trunk. “Don’t move an inch. You need a good spanking. You’re just lucky that you need to ride back, or I’d spank you raw, you little minx.”
I arched my back, my body running the show.
He growled again, and began to spank me, his leather-clad gloves smarting at the first blow.
I moaned, shifting around. He stopped after ten, breathing hard.
He was entering me without warning an instant later, cupping my br**sts, his breath rough and heavy in my ear. “Just one quick, gentle ride. I can’t f**king think straight, I want you so bad. Don’t move, this needs to be quick and soft.”
I let out a ragged laugh at his description of being f**ked against a tree by his impressive c*ck ‘gentle’ and ‘soft’.