“Are you remembering more than you’re admitting?” he demanded grimly after a moment.
“No,” she cried out. “I meant that of all things, you’re the most familiar to me. You . . . you bring me the closest,” she finished raggedly, panting. He felt a ripple go through her flesh, and knew she was very close to climax.
He froze, still applying a firm pressure to her sex, absorbing her admission. He understood instinctively what she’d meant. It was his presence that brought her closest to the threshold of memory, to the deep, perhaps unbreachable split between her present and her past. He bent and lowered her panties to her feet.
“Step out of them and get up there on your knees,” he prompted. He lowered his hand and grasped her naked hips, guiding her onto the curving bench built beneath the triple bay window. It was a narrow cushioned seat, meant for gazing out to the Great Lake and the magnificent gardens below. “Scoot right up next to the windows.”
“But what . . .”
“Just do what I say,” he said quietly, urging her toward the wooden frame between the two on the far right and the center window. “Now bend forward and put your hands over your head. Brace them on the wood frame. Don’t worry. It’s solid. I saw how this window was manufactured during the remodeling of the room before I moved in.”
A measure of satisfaction and amplified arousal went through her when she followed his instructions without further hesitation, bending at the waist while she was on her knees, exposing her pink round bottom. Unable to resist the temptation, he spanked her briskly but softly on one buttock, letting his other hand roam up her belly beneath her snug T-shirt. She moaned his name shakily when he cupped a full breast and smacked her bottom again. She turned her face so that it rested on her upper arm and he could see her profile. Her cheeks were as flushed as her ass; her eyelids heavy. She was exquisite. Slowly, erotically, she circled her hips, waving her ass in an eye-cros
sing temptation.
Beckoning him.
He swatted her firmly, squeezing taut, hot flesh, punishing her for trying to set the pace yet again . . . rewarding her for her singular beauty.
“Alice,” he hissed, tested by the vision of her arousal. Her abandon. “Open your eyes.”
He saw her eyelids flicker.
“Look at yourself in the window,” he commanded. Deliberately, he peeled her T-shirt over the globes of her breast and her head, exposing the beautiful stretch of her naked back. He tossed aside the shirt, his gaze trained on her. Her skin was such a lovely color—peaches and cream where she didn’t tan, a coppery apricot where she did. The vision of her pale suspended breasts in the window made him clamp his teeth hard. He’d never known another woman to compare to her. He watched himself in the glass as he stroked her taut belly and suspended breasts for a moment. His cock raged for her.
“You’re going to watch me fuck you. You’re not going to forget that, are you?” he asked, ripping at his button fly and jerking down his jeans. Despite his hasty actions, he kept his eyes pinned to her luminous face in the black pane.
Her lips framed an emphatic no.
He kicked aside his jeans and moved behind her, his cock a heavy ache. She instinctively bent several inches when he held her hips, positioning herself. He grasped his cock and pulled back a hot ass cheek, feral arousal shooting through him at the vision of unspanked white skin in the crack of her ass and her glossy pink sex.
He moved his cock toward her slit. The angle wasn’t ideal, but he was determined to make it work. He’d understood Alice’s unspoken desire somehow. She wanted to be branded here. She wanted to make this space her own. Theirs.
He was more than happy to give her what she wanted. They’d create more memories, but this was a damn good start.
He lifted his foot, placing it on the cushion next to her knees. He lodged his cockhead at her damp, clamping channel. The angle was much more hospitable now.
“Say it out loud, Alice,” he ordered tensely, holding her hips firmly.
“I’ll never forget.”
He plunged his cock into the heaven of her. Her whimper segued to a loud wail.
“Oh God. I’ll never forget this. You. Never. Never,” she chanted as he began to drive in and out of her sleek body, and their mutual, volatile passion was broadcast like a blazing beacon onto the dark window.
HE saw the light and the figures and immediately plunged into the hedge to hide himself, alarmed he’d be seen. Cautiously, he looked again. A sweat broke out on his brow and neck. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Thad Schaefer didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t look away nonetheless. It was something no man should ever be forced to witness: the woman of his dreams being utterly sexually consumed by another man.
Damn Fall.
He’d been ordered here for a specific purpose. It’d never been his mission, but hadn’t life proved to Thad so far that he’d always be at the mercy and bidding of someone else? Although he’d been labeled a natural born leader on many occasions, the truth was he’d been bred into the role of follower. Not the follower of just anyone. He performed optimally when the disapproval or approval of a single alpha male was at stake, all thanks to his damn father—the original alpha.
Thad couldn’t complete his assigned task if he left, no matter how much part of him longed to run until he collapsed from exhaustion. Another part of him couldn’t have walked away even if he’d used every ounce of his will.
He’d known what Alice was doing at the castle night after night with Dylan Fall. But he hadn’t guessed this. It was one thing to experience the simmer of jealousy at the thought of Alice in another man’s bed. But what he was watching at the present moment flayed him down to the bone.
Her naked body rocked and shuddered as Fall took her from behind, her breasts bouncing at the crash of flesh against flesh. Fall’s possession wasn’t violent, but it was forceful. Precise. Total.