Carole Mortimer - His Scandalous Mistress

Elizabeth immediately obeyed his plea, moving a caressing hand down the tautness of his muscled abdomen until she could cup the hardness between his thighs, instantly feeling the way his arousal, so long and thick, leapt eagerly, hotly, against her hand.

Rogan reached between them to push his trunks down his hips and thighs and throw them aside, his arousal jutting forward eagerly as Elizabeth’s fingers closed about him and the soft pad of her thumb touched and stroked him until he hardened even further.

Elizabeth moaned softly at this physical evidence of Rogan’s arousal. He was steel encased in velvet, the blood pulsing fiercely, hotly, as he swelled beneath her questing hand.

Her own body was wound so tight she felt as if there was a coiled spring inside waiting for release, and she offered no resistance when Rogan reached between them once again, this time to pull her costume down even further, over her thighs and hips, until he had discarded it completely.

Elizabeth’s legs parted invitingly and she continued to touch and caress Rogan as he thrust rhythmically into her encircling fingers.

‘It’ll all be over if you don’t stop now!’ he groaned, and he reached down to remove her hand, instead nudging her legs apart so that he could move up onto his knees between them to look down at her nakedness.

Elizabeth moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, her hips rising in invitation as her gaze remained riveted on the jutting hardness between Rogan’s muscled thighs.

She cried out, her startled gaze rising to Rogan as she felt his hand glide smoothly along her inner thigh. She could see the dark passion in Rogan’s eyes as he looked down at her bared thighs, knowing by the wild gleam in them, and the flush beneath his hard cheekbones, how aroused that made him feel.

Elizabeth cried out again as he touched lightly between her thighs. She was so swollen there, so aching and aroused that she knew herself to be balanced on the very edge of climax.

Rogan’s gaze was hot, scorching, as he felt Elizabeth’s instant response when he slowly parted the silky auburn curls, baring that pulsing nub. He used one finger to lightly stroke around, above and below that arousal, without quite touching it, drawing out Elizabeth’s pleasure as she groaned and whimpered and writhed her hips in search of that caressing finger.

Rogan pushed her legs even wider apart so that he might caress her lower still, instantly feeling how she opened for him as he stroked the swollen entrance and found her hot and slick with need, her hips arching upwards in a plea for release.

A soft scream escaped her parted lips as Rogan dipped the tip of his finger inside her wet and creamy tightness, her muscles convulsing greedily about him, the soft panting of her breath telling him how very close she was to exploding.

‘Not yet, Elizabeth!’ Rogan slowly withdrew his finger to resume his playful caresses. Around. Above. Below. Never quite touching…

He continued those tantalising caresses even as he lowered his head to her bared breast, once again drawing hungrily on her nipple, groaning low in his throat as he felt Elizabeth’s hands become entangled in his hair as she held him to her.

‘Please, Rogan!’ she cried out restlessly, desperately, as her fingers tightened painfully in his hair. ‘Please… !’

‘Say it again, Elizabeth,’ Rogan groaned against the moist heat of her nipple. ‘Say my name, damn it!’

‘Rogue… ?’ she breathed raggedly.

‘Yes!’ he rasped. ‘Say it, Beth. Say it!’

‘Rogue, Rogue, Rogue… !’ Her cries became a gasping litany as Rogan kissed his way slowly down the flatness of her stomach, over the smoothness of her hips, until he reached those damp, fiery curls between her legs, when that cry became another scream as he placed his lips about her and then stroked his skilled tongue against the throbbing centre of her desire.

Elizabeth arched up to that stroking tongue as ecstasy ripped through every part of her, threatening to shatter her into a million pieces. Her muscles convulsed in an endless release as Rogan continued to pleasure her, until Elizabeth finally collapsed back weakly, completely sated.

The moment the coldness of the rock touched Elizabeth’s back, she was brought back to the reality of where she was, who she was with, and what had just happened.

‘I’ve always found regret to be a wasted emotion,’ Rogan murmured dryly some minutes later, when Elizabeth made no effort to lower the arm she had draped over the top of her face.

As if not being able to see him would make all that had just happened go away!

Which was pretty ridiculous when they were both still completely naked…

Rogan moved up to lean on his elbow, looking down at her. Her breasts were slightly red from the rasp of his early-morning stubble, the nipples still engorged and dusky pink from the ministration of his lips and tongue, and those fiery curls between her legs were damp from her recent release.

He drew in a shaky breath. ‘Beth—’

‘I don’t want to talk about this now!’ Elizabeth snapped fiercely, lowering her arm so that she could glare up at him.

‘Or ever?’ he guessed ruefully.

‘Or ever!’ Elizabeth echoed as she sat up to look for her discarded bathing costume. It lay some distance away on the rock, tangled into a wet, unappealing ball.

Dear God… !

What had happened to her just now? How could she have allowed herself to completely unravel in Rogan’s arms like that?

How could she have been so foolish!

‘I like your hair all soft like this—’

‘Don’t touch me!’ Elizabeth flinched back as Rogan would have reached out and touched the silkiness of her recently dried hair.

Rogan’s eyes darkened angrily as his arm dropped back to his side. ‘You didn’t seem to object a few minutes ago when I touched you!’

Colour burned Elizabeth’s cheeks as she remembered all too clearly the shameful way she had pleaded for his touch. She’d been so aroused, so aching, so desperate for release as she urged Rogan to give her what she needed…

Something he had done beyond her wildest imaginings!

She swallowed hard, her gaze no longer meeting his. ‘I must have been out of my mind.’

‘Oh, you were,’ Rogan said pointedly. ‘Completely and wildly out of your mind.’

Her eyes shot furious sparks at him. ‘Do you have to sound so—so damned triumphant?’

He gave an unrepentant shrug. ‘It’s a natural reaction in a man when he knows he’s just given his woman pleasure.’

‘I’m not your woman,’ Elizabeth gasped incredulously.

‘Just say the word and you could be,’ Rogan drawled softly, having no idea how he would handle having someone like Elizabeth in his life, but knowing that giving this woman pleasure once hadn’t been nearly enough to satisfy his own appetite for her. He wanted to make love to her again. And again. And have her make love to him, too…

The throb of his thighs ached all over again just at the thought of having the fullness of her lips about him, her tiny tongue lapping the length of him…

‘For how long?’ she came back challengingly.

Rogan shrugged. ‘For as long as it lasted.’

‘“It” being a purely sexual relationship?’

‘Of course.’

Elizabeth gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘I have absolutely no wish to become the latest woman in what I have no doubt is the very long line of your conquests!’ She spat the words at him as though he’d just mortally insulted her.

The coldness of her rejection was like a slap in the face after Rogan’s imaginings. In which, knowing how much a woman like Elizabeth didn’t belong in his world, he had wanted to take her there anyway.…