By Private Invitation (8 page)

Her blissful cry sent a sizzle of heat from his balls through his spine. Sweat popped
onto his forehead as he started thrusting at a slow, deliberate pace.

His body wanted him to hurry, to pound into her and find his release. But Jared never
let his body dictate his actions.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dane glance at him, questioning.

Did he want Dane to put his cock in her mouth?

No, he didn’t.

He shook his head once, just enough of a motion that Dane got the hint. He could play
but she was Jared’s. For now.

Dane’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise, then he released Belle’s breast for just a
second to grin at him. Dane would want to know why later and Jared didn’t know if
he’d be able to explain.

He only knew he wanted her to feel only his cock, to know only his taste. Dane was
only there to add to the pleasure. Not benefit from it. Dane could find his own woman
later.

Just not his Belle.

He thrust harder and faster, sweat gathering at the base of his spine and coating
his skin with a fine sheen.

Still staring at him, Belle sighed on each exhale, the sound both tortured and filled
with bliss. He had the caveman urge to make her scream his name as she flooded his
cock with her juices.

She shuddered, her body clenching around him tight as a fist. Heat radiated from her,
soaking into his skin until he felt like he stood under a heat lamp.

He barely noticed Dane. He only had eyes for Belle.

And she looked transported. Her eyes glittered brilliantly through her slitted lids,
just barely enough for him to see. One hand left her hip to smooth over her belly
and down to her mound. His thumb brushed against her clit, once, twice, then pressed
the hard little nub until she squirmed, causing his cock to twitch.

His release imminent, he rubbed her clit harder and thrust faster, watching her face.

She was trying to hold on; he saw it in the lines of her face. He wanted to rip her
control away. He pumped faster and a little harder, watched her gasp as the base of
his cock hit her clit on each inward thrust.

Almost there.

“Come on, baby. Let go.”

She bit her bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth for several seconds before letting
it ease out, glistening with moisture.

The sight sealed his fate.

His cock twitched and he felt his release explode through him. Hot cum spewed into
the condom and, at that moment, he hated being confined. Then she cried out, wiping
his mind of everything but the sight of her face as she came.

Her eyes closed then and her back arched, pushing her mound hard against his groin.
Her sex squeezed him, milking him, and he stood there, knees locked against the quiver
in his legs, watching her and letting pure ecstasy pour through his veins.

His eyes must have closed because when he opened them, he noticed Dane had gone and
Belle was staring at him.

Her tight pussy still held his dick, her breasts quivered with each breath, and her
smile nearly blew his mind. Again.

“Belle. Are you okay?”

He realized he was holding his breath and forced himself to relax as he withdrew.

Moist towels were stashed throughout the room, including the desk drawer. He should
clean up. He didn’t want to move but he forced himself to do exactly what he would
have done if this had been any other woman.

He reached for the drawer and cleaned himself off discreetly. He did the same for
her as she lay there, watching him with those bright green eyes.

Then she smiled and he swore his heart actually tripped over in his chest. “I’m fine.”

Giving her his hand, he helped her back up to a seated position, smoothing her skirt
down over her thighs and adjusting the top, the pin glinted in the light. He had the
almost overwhelming urge to hustle her out of here, take her to his room and keep
her there, locked away all night. All to himself.

But he didn’t know that she’d appreciate that. She looked excited, ready to have fun.
And that had been the whole point in inviting her.

Fun.

Her gaze darted over his shoulder and he heard the hum of a soft conversation behind
him. Others had arrived and he hadn’t noticed.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked. “Champagne?”

Her gaze flicked back to his and her smile curved again. “I’d love some.”

He held out his hand. “Then come with me and I’ll show you around. We got distracted.
I didn’t get to show you my collections.”

She slid off the desk, fluffed her skirt and took his arm. “And what do you collect?”

Steering her away from the growing crowd on the other side of the room, where Dane
was holding court, he led her to the first collection.

He watched as her eyes widened and a delighted smile lit up her face. “You have the
Borel Les Mémoires de Saturnin series. Were did you find it?”

“From a dealer in France.” He pointed at the next set of framed etchings. “And the
Carracci Loves of the Gods series.”

Like Belle, he had a collection of erotic artwork. Unlike Belle, his parents hadn’t
been as tolerant of his less-than-acceptable—at least to his parents—interests as
a teenager.

He’d learned not to upset his mother with his fascination with sex and all the ways
in which you could do it. But he’d lived for the times he could royally piss off his
father by throwing it in his disapproving face.

Who had no room to talk, the cheating bastard.

“How long have you been collecting?” Belle had moved ahead of him, her sharp gaze
examining each piece thoroughly. She looked engrossed.

Jared wanted her again, wanted to bend her over the rolled arm of the nearest sofa
and take her.

He was becoming obsessed. And that could be dangerous. And then there was that pin…

He shook off the thought. “When I was twenty-one and came into my inheritance from
my grandparents. Every penny I made working for my father at his hotel went into an
account for the day
Tyler and I bought this place. Most of the money from my grandparents went into the
hotel as well but I saw a Beardsley piece at a shop when I was looking for the furnishing
for this room and I was hooked.”

“I’m not much of a Beardsley fan, but I do love Fendi. His work’s so bright and playful.”

She stopped finally before his most prized possession. She’d lost her smile but her
expression had turned soft, almost yearning.

“You have an original O’Malley.” Her voice had lowered to an almost reverent whisper.

“He’s one of my favorites, though I only have this one original. I do have a few sketches
but he’s hard to come by.”

“Some people only buy him because of the scandal attached to his name.”

He heard the question she didn’t ask. “Not me. His death was a tragedy. And his wife’s
and lover’s.”

“You don’t think they deserved what they got? For the lifestyle they lived?”

He frowned, trying to figure out what exactly she was asking. And why? “Everyone’s
entitled to live their life the way they want, as long as they don’t hurt anyone else.
From what I know, O’Malley and his lovers never hurt anyone. All the nontabloid accounts
of their lives say they were passionate, wild, and totally in love. All three of them.
The woman who killed them should’ve just taken herself out. She robbed the world of
a great talent.”

Nodding, Annabelle’s gaze practically caressed the painting of Catrina O’Malley and
Danton Romero by Peter O’Malley. It was one of a seven-part series featuring Catrina
and Romero in various sexual positions. Jared hoped one day to own all seven.

“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

He nodded, though he doubted Annabelle was expecting an
answer to her question. “I think so, yes. And O’Malley painted her beautifully.”

“The right artist, the right muse.”

“Do you have any of his work?”

Now Annabelle turned her attention back to him. “A few pieces, yes.”

“Are they for sale?”

“No,” she said, and turned to continue her examination of the rest of his collection.

They talked art for a while longer and he held up his end of the conversation. But
mainly, he watched Belle.

Others were arriving, a few couples already pairing off and heading for dark corners.

Belle didn’t seem to notice. Her entire attention was focused on the artwork. And
on him. The thought occurred to him that she was avoiding the other couples.

Until she turned away from his collection and focused those bright green eyes on him.

“So, are we going to join the rest of the party?”

Annabelle felt as if she’d had restraints removed.

As if she’d been given a free pass into a world of sensual pleasure, a world she’d
never experienced.

Tomorrow, she’d return to her dusty antiques shop and her sheltered life. Tonight,
she didn’t want to waste a second.

From the moment the other man had joined them, from the moment he’d put his mouth
on her breast, she’d let go of her inhibitions.

Or, more correctly, Jared had released her from them.

She’d never had sex in front of other people before, had never had the opportunity
or the inclination.

Tonight…Tonight, she wanted to experience everything.

Her body still tingled from the most explosive orgasm of her life. She wanted Jared
to touch her again.

And she wondered if she was a latent exhibitionist. And possibly a voyeur.

Because she knew the others who had entered the room were pairing off. Some of them
in more than pairs.

And she wanted to watch.

“Would you like to join the rest of the party?” he asked in response to her question.

She let her smile be her answer.

Jared obviously came to the right conclusion and he pulled her against him. Even in
her heels, she still had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. And when she
did, he kissed her. A deep, lingering kiss that made her pussy clench and her blood
sizzle. Again.

She wanted to melt into him, into the hard contours of his chest and the thick muscles
of his thighs. The man had a body worth worshipping and she still hadn’t seen him
naked.

She wanted to. Needed to.

But anticipation was a good thing.

After he eased back from the kiss, Jared turned her in his arms and leaned down to
speak directly into her ear. “Watching is sometimes almost as much fun as participating.”

His warm breath brushed against her skin, making her blood pressure rise again. With
one finger under her chin, he directed her gaze to the left, toward the piano.

A man had taken the seat and started to play while a woman knelt at his feet, sucking
his cock. His eyes were closed in ecstasy but his fingers flew over the keys, never
hitting what sounded like a wrong note.

The woman’s blonde head bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the music, one hand beneath
her skirt.

Jared’s finger nudged her chin again and she focused on the threesome on one of the
chaise lounges. The woman lay on her
back, her head hanging off the end as she sucked the man standing above her while
another buried himself inside her.

She caught sight of the man who’d joined her and Jared seated on a plush, armless
chair seemingly designed for exactly what he was doing—letting a woman ride him, her
fingers clutched in his hair, her blue silk dress pulled up around her waist, his
pants puddled around his shoes on the floor.

Her lips parted, her lungs unable to get enough air. Heat drenched her body, threatening
to make her overheat. She knew she couldn’t hide her reaction from Jared and didn’t
bother to try.

She’d never been so turned on in all her life and the more she watched the others
around her, the more she wanted Jared.

Her sex began to throb, clenching in need and wet with desire. Without her panties,
her juices would be running down her legs soon.

As if he’d read her mind or sensed her need, the hand he’d had resting on her hip
moved down her thigh, stroking along her filmy skirt before sliding his hand under
it. He teased along the outer flesh of her leg for several seconds, making her breath
catch, before he curled his fingers around her thigh. He let his hand rest there for
several seconds as she continued to stare at the other couples. Her focus started
to blur as her entire attention focused on his hand.

The anticipation as she waited for him to move built like a slow-acting drug in her
blood, her heart pounding and her lungs struggling for air.

And when he finally did, she drew in a deep breath and held it as his fingertips brushed
along the inside of her thighs. Light as a feather but as tantalizing as his scent.

She felt the stiff rod of his erection nestle between the cheeks
of her ass, and she ground back against him, wanting to torment him just a little
in return.

But he got back at her, his fingers finally moving, if only to brush against her clit
so lightly she couldn’t honestly say he’d touched her at all. It was more like the
whisper of a touch.