BargainWiththeBeast (7 page)

Compounded by the wide berth most women cleaved around him,
he’d doubted a woman could still want him…would see past his face and allow him
close enough to bare the man who still existed beneath the scarred visage. And
now, as she gazed at him in satiation instead of the horror he’d become
accustomed to, a piece of his soul returned to him—battered, but strong and
whole.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Once.
Twice. She circled his neck with her arms and drew him closer. Though blood
raged through his cock, making it pound with insistence to be buried deep
inside her tight sex, the kiss was soft, tender. Almost…loving. Her tongue
tangled with his, sucked and caressed. Each moan and breathless sigh stroked
his senses and shored up another crack in his heart.

“I need…”
You.
But he bit back the word that would
reveal too much. “I need to be inside you, Gwen. Let me in.”

She nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Yes.”

Such a simple word yet it rocked his world, his soul.
Leaning all his weight on one hand, he opened the other and offered the condom
to her. “Put it on, baby.”

With another nod, she ripped the package open and slid the
latex free. Xavier studied her slim fingers with rapt fascination as she
gripped the wide stalk and rolled the condom down his length. He growled as her
touch grazed the sensitive, stretched skin. And when she released his cock, he
almost demanded she return her hand to his flesh. It was that damn good.

His fingers circled the base of his erection and she sank
her teeth into her bottom lip. The gesture struck him as anxious. As if she
were nervous…

“How long has it been?”

She flicked her eyes up to him and her tongue peeked out to
wet her lips. “Seven years.”

Seven years. Shit.
That would mean she’d been
celibate since Joshua’s death. No. His brother had been dead six years. So that
meant… Surprise shot through him, followed by curiosity. But with his dick throbbing
a primitive, hungry rhythm answers to his questions could wait. Fuck first.
Answers second.

Shit. She’d reduced him to a caveman.

He inhaled a deep breath then released it through his nose.
Right now he needed patience that had expired about the time she’d stripped out
of her clothes. Somehow he had to find it, because getting inside her small
pussy would require every ounce.

“Baby, you’re very tight,” he said. “We’ll go slow and
easy.”

He rose and settled back on his heels. Heart speeding like a
runaway train, he arrowed his cock toward her entrance. He palmed her slim
thighs then eased them wider apart. His cock head parted her folds and
penetrated her. Wet heat sizzled on his skin and he hissed. The sound almost
covered her sharp intake of breath…almost.

Gwendolyn stared down her body to the point where they
joined. Tension lined her face and her fists twisted the bedcovers. Her sex was
like a tight rubber band squeezing the cock head so he could imagine how his
dick stretched her. He splayed his fingers wide on the inside of her thighs.
Gently, he smoothed his thumbs up and down the dark lips. God, how pretty they
looked surrounding his cock. The visual conjured images of her mouth parted,
sucking him in.

“Relax for me, baby,” he coaxed and didn’t try to contain
the lust racing through him and thickening his voice. He pressed into her and
gently massaged. “Your pussy feels so good,” he murmured. “I want to sink into
you, fuck you so hard and deep that my cock leaves an imprint.”

Inch by inch, thrust by thrust, he settled his dick into her
sex. He whispered praises each time her core stretched and accepted more of
him, took him deeper. By the time he was fully seated inside her, sweat poured
off them both. Xavier clenched his teeth against the burning pleasure. Her
pussy hugged his cock like shrink-wrap, so snug…so damn right.

Gwendolyn writhed beneath him, her head bearing down on the
pillow hard enough to cause an indentation. Back arched, hips rolling, she
epitomized lust, arousal…need. The tiny muscles in her sex spasmed around his
flesh, goading him to move. To fuck. Leaning forward, he planted a palm next to
her head and clamped the back of one thigh, then shoved it back and high. It
opened her pussy another impossible increment and his cock took immediate
advantage, burrowing deeper.

“Talk to me, Gwen.” He closed his eyes, locking his jaw.
Fuck. Root to tip, she swallowed him. His balls pressed against the stretched
opening and the pressure to the sac elicited a grunt of hunger. When he lifted
his lashes, he met her fevered gaze. “C’mon, baby. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She clutched his arms in a desperate grip. “God, yes.
Please move.”

With a greedy rumble, he withdrew and surged into her hot
sheath. Over and over he buried his cock in her pussy, riding like a man
possessed—or obsessed. Gwendolyn met him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke.
Her long legs wrapped around his waist and held him in their tight embrace.

Enfolded in her arms and legs, both his palms next to her
head, he succumbed to the animalistic lust tearing a hole in his gut and
rushing up his cock. The headboard bounced against the wall, the clatter
matching the tempo of each plunge. He reached between their bodies and brushed
a caress over her clit before circling the engorged nub with hard, tight
motions.

Gwendolyn stiffened, gasped then let out a broken cry as she
shuddered in orgasm. Her pussy seized his cock seconds before convulsing in
rhythmic quivers. The steady ripple of her muscles around his dick, the scrape
of hard nipples against his chest and her scream of release echoing in his ears
shoved him over the edge of oblivion. He plummeted into the fiery abyss like a
phoenix, reborn in the flames of consuming passion.

The ecstasy lasted forever, but ended too soon. Before he
was ready to return to sanity, he descended back to the bed, to the dim room.
To…peace.

He opened eyes he didn’t remember shutting. This woman,
who’d given her flesh and passion so willingly, had gifted him with pleasure
and precious forgetfulness. A soft sigh escaped his lips and, as Gwendolyn’s
eyes closed and she drifted to sleep, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

In this moment, he was just a man with his woman.

He pressed his face in the haven between her throat and
shoulder.

And felt…normal.

“You are very obliging,” answered Beauty, “I own I am
pleased with your kindness and, when I consider that, your deformity scarce
appears.”—Beauty and the Beast

“According to Mark Twain kindness is a language the
deaf can hear and the blind can see…so is being a jackass.”—Gwendolyn Sinclair

“Good morning.”

Xavier turned at her greeting. Sunlight poured through the
huge picture window of the breakfast room and bathed him in its glow like a
halo. She almost snorted at the absurd thought. No angelic being contained the
carnal knowledge Xavier had exhibited last night.

Oh damn.

Heat streamed up her neck and rushed to her face.
Hell.
There was no way the intent stare he fixed on her could miss the fiery telltale
sign indicating where her thoughts had detoured. And now that the floodgates
had opened, she couldn’t dam the memories. Her sex softened and a dull ache
took up residence at his remembered possession. Oh God, how he’d possessed her.
He’d taken control of her body until she hadn’t recognized the person she’d
become—one focused solely on ecstasy and the man gifting it to her.

She’d twisted under him, begged and cried out for him. A
shiver raced over her skin and tingled in her clit. She’d come twice—once on
his hands and in his mouth, and then on his cock. She blew out a slow, measured
breath even as her heart pounded.

Given his reputation, she hadn’t been shocked by his
knowledge of a woman’s body. The man wore sexuality like most men did a suit or
jacket. No, that wasn’t accurate. His sensuality couldn’t be peeled off as
easily as a shirt and tie. It was innate, as much a part of him as his green
eyes. So no, his skill hadn’t been a surprise. But the tenderness,
unselfishness and patience had been. The terms of their bargain dictated she
spend seven days at his mercy, for his gratification. Yet he’d placed her
pleasure first time and time again.

She stared at his beautiful features and warmth surged into
her chest. The thick honey-brown hair drawn into its customary tail only served
to enhance the patrician bone structure, the jeweled eyes and carnal curve of
his mouth. The reason behind her presence in his home sucked, but maybe, just
maybe, they could part friends.

Friends. Her mind scoffed.
As if that’s all you want from
him.
A woman didn’t stop having sex with her fiancé because of
friendship
.
Her stomach clenched and she cringed over her inadvertent admission the night
before. Under ordinary circumstances—like when not dazed from a mind-blowing
orgasm—she wouldn’t have confessed the truth about her self-imposed celibacy
with Josh. It invited questions…questions she’d rather not answer.

In a world where pumpkins changed into horse-drawn carriages
and beasts transformed into princes, Xavier would admire her, his gaze
reflecting the love she harbored deep in her heart. But that existence was
relegated to Disney films and fairy tales. In the real world, perhaps they
could part with her faith in the sensitive, kind, selfless man she’d once known
restored. Last night, his passion and gentleness nurtured her dream.

“Good morning, Gwendolyn,” he murmured and slid his hands in
the front pockets of his gray slacks.

Unease tickled her stomach. Once again, she was Gwendolyn
instead of Gwen. Last night, as well as during her bath, he’d called her by the
nickname he’d used years ago. With a mental shrug, she shook the disquiet off.
Maybe he’d slipped back to formality out of habit.

She moved farther into the room. Cutlery had already been
arranged around pristine white plates and steaming platters of food occupied
the middle of the table. As she approached the chair Xavier held out for her,
she smothered a snicker. Since she’d woken Monday, delicious meals had been
prepared for them and the house retained the sparkling clean scent of lemon
Pledge, yet she hadn’t glimpsed a single employee. Maybe he retained invisible
servants like in
Eros and Psyche.

That was it.
Clash of the Titans
was going to the
community center’s video library just as soon as she returned home. A week ago
she’d compared him to Odysseus and now the star-crossed lovers. No more Greek
mythology.

“Thank you.” She lowered into the chair and scooted forward.
He pulled out the seat next to her at the head of the table and sank into it
with a fluid motion she envied and admired.
Hell.
Even the way he sat in
a chair was sexy.

The next few moments passed in silence as they selected
their breakfast from the platters. Her stomach growled at the mouth-watering
scents rising off the variety of sausages, bacon, pancakes and cinnamon rolls.
Mortified, she shot a glance at Xavier. But if he heard, he didn’t react.
Instead he continued to doctor his pancakes with syrup.

The sliver of foreboding made another appearance. His aloof
mask and reserved manner wasn’t her imagination. She frowned. What had happened
between last night and this morning?

“I noticed your stables as I drove up Saturday,” she said
with deliberate casualness, hoping to draw him into conversation. Anything
would be better than the heavy silence. “Do you breed them or are they for
pleasure?”

“They’re for me.”

“Your home is beautiful.” She continued even though his
short answer and long stare didn’t invite chitchat. “I don’t remember hearing
you talk about this place, though.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her with the same
impassive stare. “I bought it a year ago.”

Well. Damn.

She dropped her gaze to the plate of food, her fragile hope
for a new start with Xavier absconding with her appetite. It didn’t require the
awesome deduction powers of Sherlock Holmes to figure out the accident and this
home in beautiful but remote Great Barrington were connected. A haven with only
horses to keep him company. After all, animals responded to kindness, not
appearance.

Her heart ached for him in spite of his distant behavior.
This man should be at the heart of parties, surrounded by people hanging on his
every word. Not relegated to the outskirts, tolerated when he couldn’t be
avoided. As if he were to blame for a tragedy beyond his control. Reviled for a
mark that displayed his strength and iron will in the face of suffering others
would have broken under.

“What are you thinking?”

The low, quiet voice sounded so much like the tone he’d used
with her the night before, it startled her into answering honestly.

“You’re beautiful,” she blurted.

His face hardened, but not before a spasm of pain
disappeared under the forbidding mask. Eyes that had been cold a moment ago
were now glacial—two jagged pieces of ice to pierce her soul.

“The nature of our bargain eliminates the need for empty
flattery. Especially when we both know it’s a lie.” He lashed out, leaving
bleeding lacerations. “But if it makes you feel better to indulge in fantasy,
come sit on this side of me.” He patted the table with his right hand. “The
view’s better.”

Raw bitterness and anger seethed beneath the callous remark.
The resentment and fury concealed behind the reserve he showed the world
festered in places so deep, Gwendolyn couldn’t reach them. Grief tore through
her as if someone had died. And she supposed someone had—the loving,
compassionate man who no longer existed. In his place sat this embittered
stranger, the scars he carried on his soul more devastating than the one
marring the left side of his face.

“Is this how it’s going to be between us for the next five
days?” she asked quietly. “Where we can’t even talk?”

“I thought I made it clear what you’re here for, Gwendolyn.
And it’s not talking.”

She shoved back her chair and rose to her feet. Anger and an
overwhelming sorrow encompassed her. She’d believed Xavier had chosen to live.
That had been a façade too. He existed with rage and hostility as faithful
companions, leaving room for no one else.

“That’s right,” she said. Silently, she cursed the tears
stinging her eyes and tilted her chin up as if the gesture could prevent them
from spilling. “As you take such great delight in reminding me. Why don’t you
leave money on the nightstand? That would show me. Consider it a tip.” Her
voice thickened and she hated herself for the sign of weakness. Hated him. “Or
better yet, just subtract it off the top of the money I’m spreading my legs
for.”

“Stop it!”

The harsh order didn’t penetrate the hurt—the blinding hurt
and fury that ate a hole in her heart.
Stupid!
God, she was so stupid
for believing one night of sex could soften his feelings toward her. Could
soften him.

“Stop what? I’m just repeating what you’ve been drilling
into my head since I agreed to this damn deal.”

“Gwendolyn,” he growled over the scrape of his chair as he
shot to his feet.

“Just—” Her voice broke. She whirled and stalked toward the
door. Dammit, she refused to let him see one fucking tear fall. Not. One. “Just
go to hell.”