The Lady Vanishes (31 page)

He continued to lick and pet her until she settled, and then he gently removed the pearls from her body, making her moan as he worked his fingers inside her to get a grip on one, and then again as he removed the second. He put them in the pockets of his coat, still draped around her shoulders.

He straightened her skirt as best he could and stood, taking a moment to adjust himself.

“What about you?” she murmured, her gaze level with the distinctive bulge in his crotch.

“I’ll be fine until we get home, but then I’d like you dressed in that negligee I gave you, standing next to the bed. Will you do that for me, Regina?”

She nodded, her eyes so dark they dominated her face, her lips swollen from biting down to keep from screaming. But he wanted her to scream, he wanted her to scream a lot.

AN HOUR LATER,
Regina vibrated with a mix of emotions as she slowly changed into the glittery negligee he’d given her. She still couldn’t believe how she’d felt, surrounded by darkness, her head thrown back looking at the sky as Milton had pleasured her. She’d felt worshipped. Worshipped and adored, his lips and tongue and fingers telling her with every flutter that he wanted her, that the scent and smell of her made him lose him mind.

Now, looking at herself in the mirror dressed in the nude lace that accentuated her curves with tiny glittering sparkles and emphasized the shadow between her legs, she felt powerful knowing he was going to see her like this.

She stepped out into the room, knowing that he was waiting for her, and was pleased to find that except for his tie and jacket, he was still dressed. She wanted to take his clothes off, wanted to show him that she did care for him—even if she didn’t want to be a public spectacle, she did want him, very much.

There was a single lamp on in the room, next to the bed. She knew that he could see straight through her gown. She moved toward him slowly. He seemed frozen for once, his eyes locked on her.

“You’re a little overdressed,” she said in a low voice, and knelt slowly, enjoying the feel of the rough lace on her nipples as the fabric tightened over her chest.

She removed his shoes, gripping his ankles and sliding them off his feet. His socks followed. She stood, slowly sliding her hands up his pants, making sure to brush his crotch with the back of her knuckles as she lifted her fingers to his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed the base of his throat.

“I love what you did to me tonight,” she whispered to him and felt his breath catch.

He released it on a sigh as she began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest covered lightly in dark hair, his nipples taut, the washboard muscles of his chest trembling with every stroke of her fingers.

She pushed his shirt off roughly, making sure her breasts brushed his bare chest.

“I should tie you to the headboard,” she murmured. They hadn’t tried anything with him tied yet. “I’d like to lick every inch of you.”

“I can’t tonight.” He licked his lips. “Please, I’m begging you. Hurry.”

She chuckled and kissed his collarbone, and then one nipple, testing its firmness lightly with her teeth.

His breath hissed out, and his hands—those clever hands, moved to her waist.

Regina cupped him and he froze. “No hands,” she said against his chest. “Not just yet.”

He dropped them, cursing, and she kissed his neck, stroking him gently between his legs at the same time. He was clenching his teeth, his face turning red, before she took pity on him and slowly undid his belt buckle and the button holding his pants closed.

He was so aroused the engorged head escaped, rising toward his stomach. Careful not to catch his skin, Regina slowly slid down the zipper. He sprang completely free, jutting fiercely, and Regina thought he was beautiful: a thick gorgeous cock that he wanted to put inside her.

Unable to wait, Regina gripped him at the base and went to her knees, taking him in her mouth, sucking on the heat and breadth of him, making him moan and sink his fingers into her hair.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he muttered as she began moving up and down on him, tightening her fist at the base of his cock as she worked him on her knees.

She kept doing it even as he warned her that he was about to come, even as she cupped his balls and felt them tighten and rise toward his body. He came and she drank him down, doing for him what she’d never done for anyone, and finding that she liked the taste of him, liked having him helpless to the pleasure of her mouth.

When she’d licked every last drop from him, she stood and met his eyes. He took her shoulders in his hands. Regina tensed, half afraid he was about to tell her he loved her. Surely not. What would she say back if he did?

“I’d like to put in a standing request for you to suck my cock for the rest of our lives.”

Regina chuckled. It wasn’t “I love you,” but it was certainly heartfelt. She had no doubt as to his sincerity.

She patted his cheek. “Only when you’ve been really, really good.”

“Hmmm.” He looked down the front of her gown, and before she realized what he intended, he ripped it down the front, releasing her breasts. Little beads and diamonds tinkled as they hit the wood floor.

Regina gasped and nearly clutched the gown closed, but he caught her wrists.

“That thing was made to be ripped off a woman,” he assured her, cupping her breast and pinching the nipple roughly. “And now, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to fuck you again.”

“Yes.” Regina nodded, already aroused by taking him, getting even wetter with his attentions on her breasts.

“Get on the bed. All fours,” he ordered.

Regina shed the remains of the gown and crawled onto the bed, stopping in the center and glancing behind her. He’d removed his pants, but he was drawing the belt out of the loops.

“What are you doing?” she asked, licking her lips.

“You’ll find out,” he said ominously, coming closer, and the bed dipped as he climbed just to the side of her on the bed.

She felt the gentle stroke of the belt along her back, down her spine, and over her buttocks. She could smell it, feel the cool leather, and knew that a less gentle stroke would be coming soon.

He pressed the belt between her legs, rubbing it against her, and she gasped, jerking her hips back for more. The belt cracked, stinging against her ass in punishment and she cried out. It hurt, but she was so aroused, it also felt amazing. She wanted it between her legs again.

As if he could read her mind, he slid the belt between her legs again, and then gently swatted the tender place between her legs, making her jerk and moan. He did it again, and again, until the soft folds between her legs were so swollen and hot that she wept, begging him to take her.

She heard the belt hit the floor somewhere in the room and then he was moving behind her, sinking himself deep on the first thrust. She moaned and arched backward, trying to take more of him, all of him, trying to pull him into her soul.

“Harder,” she screamed, but he pulled out and turned her around, tossing her onto the pillows.

“I want to see your face when you come,” he said, and harshly spread her legs, taking her just as roughly as he had from behind, sliding his cock in and out of her, making her feel every inch. She jerked her hips upward, tightening frantically, trying to hold him, keep him, make him surrender.

He fought her, holding her legs spread wide at the knees, and it wasn’t until she came, shuddering hard against him, that he gave up, crying out as he spilled himself inside her, each shudder bringing him closer to her, until he was lying against her, half crushing her into the pillows.

They lay in a sweaty tangle, too exhausted to move. He shifted to the side and pulled out of her. She heard a drawer opening, and then something soft on her stomach. A handkerchief.

“Thought you might want to clean up.”

She picked it up with two fingers, smiling. Only Milton. “I don’t think this is going to cut it,” she told him with a wry smile. He laughed and said the three little words she’d been dreading.

“I love you.”

SITTING IN HIS LIBRARY,
the fire in the hearth cold and his coffee untouched on his desk, Milton stared into space. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe not an “I love you” in return, but something more than the simple “I know” that she’d replied. Then she’d gotten up and gone to the bathroom to clean up. What was he supposed to do with that? Granted, telling a woman “I love you” after phenomenal sex was perhaps not the most romantic way to go about it, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

She’d seemed upset when he put her in the limo to go home and change before work, and she’d kissed him, but her face had been pale. She was worried.

Why wouldn’t she just admit that she cared about him, at least? He knew she wasn’t indifferent. She wasn’t the type to let a man spank her with his belt unless she cared for him. Stubborn. She was so goddamn stubborn. They were supposed to rehearse the entire show today, Regina included. Nick had arranged for the vanishing lady device to be delivered to the hospital from Milton’s attic, and they were going to run through the show with all of the kids. He had a feeling she was going to try and wiggle out of it now.

With a scowl, Milton opened his email. He had several from Blake with questions about the rehearsal today, one from his mother with a recipe for clam chowder—like he cooked—and two regarding the capture of Carter Burke. All the arrangements had been made; all they needed was his go-ahead. Once Carter Burke was on U.S. soil, the marshals service would be at the airport to collect him. They hadn’t asked too many questions about the how. The email had come in around midnight, just as he was fucking up royally by telling the woman of his dreams that he loved her.

Damn Carter Burke. That selfish asshole had destroyed her life, and used Milton’s encryption software to do it. In the rational part of his brain, Milton knew that Carter Burke had nothing to do with Regina not telling him she loved him. But the primitive part, the part that had thought magic tricks could save his brother, the part that wanted to go upstairs, tie her to the bed, and fuck her until she admitted she loved him, thought that screwing the man over sounded like a fine idea.

Maybe when her father finally faced justice, Regina could put all this crap behind her.

With a feverish intensity that walked the fine line of insanity, Milton began bringing about the destruction of Carter Burke.

THERE WAS A SORE SPOT
on Regina’s lip from nervous chewing, and she was having trouble focusing on her patients, not a problem she’d had in her nearly six years of practicing medicine.

“I’m sorry, Saint George. What did you say?”

“I said, when is Shaw the Magician getting here?”

“I’m not sure, but I think in a half hour or so, around lunchtime,” she murmured. She was supposed to rehearse with them today. She’d heard from the nurses that Nick Cord had arrived with a delivery truck. “How are you feeling?”

It had been a few days since his latest round of chemo, and he looked a little more alert than he had earlier in the week, his cheeks not quite so pale.

“Okay, I guess.”