I was rinsing conditioner from my hair when he pressed his naked body against my back. I gasped.
“Good morning,” he murmured, reaching around me to pump some soap into his hand. His arousal was already hard and pressed against my backside. He rubbed the soap over me with one hand, kneading at my breasts. I was already clean, but I didn’t protest. Who would?
He was washing himself with his other hand, and I felt it as he reached his own arousal, stroking the length, again and again. He reached between my legs as he did so, his expert fingers giving attention to every fold.
“Put your hands against the wall,” he rasped into my ear after he’d teased us both for several minutes.
I laid my hands flat against the wall, and he grasped my hips roughly. He buried his face in my neck as he drove into me. It was a smooth entry, but he hammered into me, again and again, holding nothing back.
Every stroke pulled along that perfect spot, and I arched my back, sobbing. One hand held my hips anchored while the other slid up to a wet breast, gripping it roughly. He pinched the nipple, twisting hard enough to make me cry out. He bit my neck at the same moment.
I came instantly, sobbing out his name brokenly. The name James had never had so many syllables.
“Fucking perfect,” he groaned into my ear. “Tell me you’re mine. I need you, Bianca. I need you to know that you belong to me.”
“Yes,” I gasped, already building inexorably towards another powerful climax.
“Say it,” he bit out.
“I’m yours, James. I belong to you.”
“Now come,” he ordered, spilling into me with a rough shout.
The shout did it, and I was lost again in the rolling waves of pleasure.
He washed me again, leaning my near limp body against him. “No one else can do this for you, Bianca.
Don’t ever even consider it. You were made for me.”
He dried me and nearly carried me to the bed, laying me down. “I’ll get your clothes. I want to dress you.”
He didn’t return for several minutes, and when he did the sight of him made me prop myself up on my elbows to study him more thoroughly. He was wearing skin-hugging tan riding breeches, with dark brown chaps that came to his knees. He wore a thin bright white V-neck shirt. The getup hugged nearly every muscle of his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was absolutely, mouthwateringly sexy.
My jaw dropped. He smiled, and it was wicked.
He set a bulky pile of clothing on the bed beside me, and began the drawn-out process of gearing me up to ride. He dressed my bottom half first, slipping on my tiny panties, caressing every body part that he passed. He had to work the tan riding pants up my legs more slowly, they were so tight.
“Are they too small?” I asked.
“No. This is what they’re supposed to do, until you break them in. They will fit like a glove soon enough.” He worked them to my waist as he spoke. He kissed my belly, running soft fingers over the fading bruises along my torso. He did that so often, it was becoming a sort of ritual.
He slipped thick soft black socks onto my feet, kissing my arches. Next, he worked on stiff dark brown ankle-length boots that matched his own. “These will take breaking in as well. The leather’s been softened, so it shouldn’t be too rough,” he explained.
He worked dark brown leather half-chaps onto my legs next. He named all of the clothing as he dressed me. The chaps hooked just under my heels, fastening to my legs with heavy velcro. It allowed him to size them to my long, thin calves perfectly. “I got you some full chaps as well, but this is the best gear for learning.”
He moved to my top half next, managing to slip me into a snug sports bra without making me sit up. It zipped in the front, and he sucked on each breast thoroughly before zipping it up with a look of regret. It was only then that he sat me up, slipping a skin tight white V-neck shirt over my head, pulling each of my arms through gently.
I laughed at him. “We match again, you weirdo.”
He grinned back at me. “I find that I like that. I can’t say that this will be the last time, either.” He pulled me to my feet, straightening my shirt as he did so.
“You realize that I can dress myself, don’t you?”
He just smiled, content. “If you don’t mind my eccentricity, I prefer to do this.”
I gave him my little shrug. I hadn’t known pampering like this before, and I found myself unexpectedly relishing the experience. “It makes me feel special. I find that I love it. I find that I love everything you do to me.”
He cupped my face, his eyes fiercely tender. I had to force myself to meet that searing gaze. “You are special. You’re the most special person in the world to me. I don’t known how to make you see and feel that.”
I was speechless. He kept saying the most disarming things to me, things I had never prepared myself to hear.
My stomach growled loudly, interrupting the too intense moment.
He kissed my forehead, taking my hand. “Let’s feed you, poor thing. I’ve been negligent.”
He led me swiftly to the kitchen, where an attractive black-haired woman was busily preparing a meal that smelled divine. She beamed at James but greeted me more cooly, while remaining wholly professional. “I’ve prepared slow cooked three-bean chicken chili, Sir. I could also prepare sandwiches, or anything else that you’d prefer for lunch.”
“We’ll take sandwiches, and fresh vegetables from the garden. We will eat in the formal dinning room for lunch, and have the chili for dinner, Sara,” he said without asking me, leading me into the daunting dinning room.
“Why not use the smaller dinning room for just the two of us?” I asked.
“This room is more private,” he said with a shrug.
He pulled me onto his lap for a long kiss. It was a sweet, affectionate kiss, but it left me hot all the same.
I felt his hands in my hair, and it was a drugging moment before I realized he was braiding it. I pulled back with reluctance. He just moved his mouth to my neck, braiding all the while. He’d barely finished that task before he was spreading sunblock on my arms, keeping me on his lap the entire time. I hadn’t even seen the little bottle on the table, he’d had my attention so completely glued to him.
He set me onto my own chair only when Sara was carrying a large tray into the room. It held several Turkey sandwiches on dark wheat buns, with some sort of white cheese that I couldn’t have named, and loaded with vegetables. They were delicious, the vegetables tasting fresh from the garden. Each sandwich was smeared with a spicy hummus. She brought out a large dish of fresh, raw vegetables as well, with a serving of hummus for dipping.
I ate heartily. I’d gone too long between meals. “I’m going to lose some weight hanging out with you. I try to eat healthy normally, but not surprisingly, you take healthy eating to the next level. You don’t even know the meaning of the term ‘half-assed’.”
He gave me his censorious look. “You don’t need to lose weight.”
I gave a little shrug and went back to eating. Easy for Mr. No Body Fat to say, I thought.
James finished eating before I did. “Do you mind if I make some calls?” he asked politely.
I shook my head that I didn’t mind, knowing he was skipping out on a lot of work just to be there.
I finished eating, and waited for maybe five minutes while he made call after call, working on his laptop as he did so.
“Do you mind if I go look at the horses while you work?”
He nodded, waving me off absentmindedly.
“Take your time,” I told him as I left. I had a general idea where the stables were, so I headed that way.
I nearly got lost just trying to leave the palatial house, but finally found a door that led out of a room adjacent to the kitchen. I’d walked in a circle just to get there. It was easier to take a direct route to the stables after I got outside, since the buildings housing the horses were so huge that I couldn’t possibly miss them.
I walked inside the wide opening into the shaded stalls, looking into each one. Many of the stalls were empty. I stopped at the first stall that wasn’t. It held a beautiful chestnut who came when I clicked to it softly. It let me pet it, sniffing around for snacks. I hadn’t thought to bring any, hadn’t known where any were.
“She’ll love you if you give her an apple,” a deep, unfamiliar voice drawled behind me, a hint of a strange accent detectable. I thought it may be French, but wasn’t sure. I turned, a little startled, though I shouldn’t have been. Of course there would be people in the stables. The sight that greeted me, though, was startling.
The man was tall and smiling, his black hair shaved close to his head. He was devastatingly handsome, with a dominant but attractive nose and smiling eyes. His strong jaw had an appealing five o’clock shadow. I guessed he was in his early thirties. He was geared up in clothing similar to my own, and the tight apparel showed his heavy muscles to distraction. His teeth were even, his smile engaging. I met his light brown eyes, smiling politely.
He sized me up as I had him.
My breath caught as I saw the riding crop in his hand. It was for the horses, of course, but he looked like a man who could dominate a woman, and my newly awakened sexuality made my mind drift to the things he might do to a woman with that crop.
He held a hand for me to shake, stepping closer to me to pat the horse on the neck while he did so. I shook his hand, and he gripped mine firmly, lingering. I pulled away hastily.
“This one is Nanny. She’s a good horse.” He went to a bag near the door of her stall, pulling out an apple, and handing it to me. “If you’re looking for a horse that will adore you, look no further than Nanny. She’s as docile as they come. You don’t look like a woman who appreciates docile, though. I’m Pete, by the way. I train horses for Mr. Cavendish. In fact, I do just about anything horse-related for the boss.”
I smiled at him while I tried to feed Nanny the apple. I pulled back with a startled yip when she tried to take the apple from my hand, fingers and all.
Pete laughed, stepping in close behind me. “Not like that, ma chere.” He positioned my hand around the apple so that my fingers weren’t sticking out like tempting targets. “Never give a horse your finger, or sure enough, they’ll take it.” He held the apple to her with me, and she took it this time without touching me with her teeth.
I moved hastily away from Pete after Nanny had the apple.
“I’m Bianca,” I said, strangely breathless.
He winked at me. “I know who you are. The boss’s lady. Come with me. I have a special treat for you.” He turned and walked away, just expecting me to follow him.
He knows I’m with James, so he should be safe. Shouldn’t he? I wondered.
I hesitated, then followed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He led me to a large, open corral that held a lovely pale horse that captured my attention immediately.
“She’s what we call a palomino, based on her coloring. The tan coat with the white hair. She’s a palomino thoroughbred, which is rare. Her name is Princess, and the boss wants you to learn to ride on her. She doesn’t have any bad habits, so she won’t be teaching you any. But she’s real particular, so it might be tricky.”