Page 282 of Hell Hath No Fury
“I don’t know; let’s find out, shall we?” He grabs my hips and rolls them so I move against him in the best possible way. A slew of tingles dance across my skin. The car turns and turnsagain. Jason lifts me up and down, moving with me, kissing my neck, biting down and drawing gasp after gasp of erotic pleasure from my mouth. The seed of my climax begins to take root deep inside. I feel it burst free somewhere at the base of my spine and spread its fiery tendrils through my body.
Jason groans, one hand is impossibly tight on my hip; the other slams down on a panel of buttons on the door. We’re blasted with a wintery gust of air as the roof of the limousine smoothly opens. My skin is instantly covered in gooseflesh, yet I don’t feel cold. I feel alive. The bright lights of Bond Street blind me. Flashing overhead, enormous peacock feathers and angel wings blur with the towering buildings and inky night sky. I throw my head back, and Jason’s arms anchor me to him, threaded around my back and holding my shoulders from behind. Thrust after thrust, he powers into me. My climax crashes through my body like a steam train, breathless and wonderful. Jason finds his own release somewhere between me screaming out his name and falling limply into his arms.
He cradles me, and I beam, looking at him and up at the last of the lights as the car turns out of Bond Street and onto Piccadilly. The first full body shiver has Jason shutting the roof and pulling my coat to cover us both.
“I liked the lights,” I say, biting back the most enormous grin at my massive understatement.
“Want to see the ones on Regent Street, too?” Jason’s brow wiggles suggestively, and I can already feel him harden inside me.
“Hell, yes, I do.” I squeal when he launches us both forward and flips me so he is on top, stealing the very breath from me with passionate kisses filled with love and desire. “I do love the lights.” I giggle, my voice drowned out by his hungry animal sounds.
God, I love this man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I open the front door and a two-foot blur of puffy red coat and white fur bobble hat barges past me. Petal runs off to find Roman, I assume, and I’m faced with an apologetic-looking Mary on my front doorstep.
“Mary, what are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need some moral support this morning.” She steps inside when I open the door much wider and beckon her in.
“That’s sweet, but honestly, I don’t care what they think. It’s the last day, and I’m never going to see any of them again.”
“I took pictures; do you want to see?” She fishes her phone from her bag even as I vigorously shake my head.
“Probably not.”
“Oh god, it was spectacular,” she gushes, swiping her finger over her screen. Her eyes sparkle with pleasure and mischief. “Did you see Stephanie’s face? Oh, no, of course you didn’t. You didn’t take your eyes off of Edward. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. He actually cowered. That six foot four ex-rugby player cowered in front of you.” The awe in her voice is audible, and I have to admit, I get a little buzz from the retelling of it through her eyes.
“The one time size really doesn’t matter is when you have a whip in your hand,” I point out.
“You are gonna have to teach me.”
“Sure, anytime you have a spare four years.” I laugh.
“Four years? Really?”
“Yes, four years. I am the best for a reason; I’ve studied my craft.” It isn’t a joke, and my serious tone conveys enough emphasis that Mary is now enthusiastically nodding her agreement.
“Well, it showed. You rocked last night. I wish I had an ounce of your confidence.”
“Another thing that is learnt over many years. My stomach was in knots. I haven’t done that in such a long time. I was nervous I’d fuck it up.”
“Lord, it didn’t show.”
“I’m glad. It felt good,” I confess with a shy smile. Taking my coat from the hall cupboard, I start to gather all the bits Roman is going to need for his last day. Madi is in her stroller, all wrapped up and ready for her morning outing.
“What did Jason think?”
“I’ll let you know when I untie him.” I wink and manoeuvre the stroller to the door.
“You’re funny.”
“Roman, come on, we have to go!” I call out and wait for the thunder of footsteps. Roman appears round the corner with his coat on and a grumpy scowl on his face.
“Petal won’t hold my hand,” he grumbles, trying to snatch Petal’s hand as she keeps it tucked securely in her pockets.
“Did you ask her nicely?” I look at Mary, and she’s pulling an ‘OMG, aren’t they adorable’ face. They are; nevertheless, we have to get them to school and this looks like a fight not worth having.
