The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 by Pippa Croft

Alexander is going to make good on his promise, by the look and feel of him against my body.
    He grabs my hand and we hurry over the little bridge that spans the ha-ha and down the path to a side door, grunting thanks to the few members of staff that greet him.
    We run upstairs and finally he locks the door of his bedroom behind him.
    ‘Is this the first time?’ I ask.
    ‘What for?’
    ‘That you had a girl in here.’
    ‘Rules are made to be broken,’ he says. ‘Now are you going to get your knickers off, or do I have to do it for you?’
    I lick my lips. ‘Oh, I think you’re going to have to do it for me, my lord.’
    I was half expecting it, but the speed at which I’m swept up and dumped on his bed snatches the breath from my body.
    ‘I still have my boots on.’
    ‘Not for long.’ He pulls off the Hunters as I lie giggling on the bed. My jeans follow, and my knickers.
    He kicks off his own boots and strips off sweater, shirt and jeans.
    Wow. My throat is full.
    I had forgotten.
    Forgotten what the sight and smell and feel of his body did for me. But I’m remembering now, now that I have time to savour him, rather than fucking frantically with a desperate man or fumbling with a drunken one.
    His shoulders are broad, his abs taut and hard, though he’s somewhat leaner now than I remember. As for the scar … no matter how many times I see him naked, the angry white flesh on his shoulder fascinates and horrifies me. It reminds me that he’s probably killed, and almost been killed himself, and I realize what I have taken on.
    ‘Second thoughts?’ he asks as he climbs, naked, on to the bed and plants his hands either side of my shoulders.
    ‘Am I allowed any?’
    ‘Like I said, you can’t resist me.’
    And I can’t, not when he parts my knees and uses his mouth so skilfully to bring me to unconditional surrender. His tongue makes delicate little circles and flicks on me that have me clutching at the bedcovers and whimpering shamelessly. He blows gently on me and circles his thumb until I’m teetering on the brink of the mother of all climaxes.
    Then he stops, climbs up my body and murmurs in my ear. ‘I told you so.’
    I can only moan in desperation. While I fist thesheets, he settles himself between my legs and urges his way inside me in one smooth thrust.
    ‘You’re so tight, so wet, Lauren.’
    I know this and I’m loving the way he fills me up, so much I can hardly take him even though I’m readier than I’ve ever been. Above me, his chest is still tinged with a summer tan, his eyes full of such intent as he drives in and out of me, in long, slow, deep thrusts that bury me into the mattress. It’s not possible to be filled up any more but I want it anyway so I wrap my legs around his thighs and I dig my heels into his backside to drag him into me. Sensation builds again, radiating from my core through my limbs. His face is contorted in a kind of pain as he comes and it tips me over the edge after him, falling hard and fast.
    Afterwards, I lie on my back, catching my breath, every part of me, from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair, relaxed. Alexander lies next to me, flat out, his eyes closed, his palms turned upwards, fingers curled, all the tension washed from his face. I reach out and flatten my palm against his chest, feeling his heart rate slowing down and the light sheen of sweat under my fingers.
    The rap on the door makes me twitch and stiffen.
    Alexander’s eyes open instantly. ‘What the –?’
    The knock comes again, louder and more insistent this time.
    He sits up and calls out. ‘Yes?’
    ‘It’s Robert, my lord. Mr de Courcey and your lawyers are here.’
    Alexander lifts his wrist, peers at his watch as if he doesn’t believe it, then hisses, ‘Fuck.’ He pushes himself off the bed and spikes his fingers through his hair.
    Robert’s anxious voice is louder now. ‘They’ve been in the study for twenty minutes already. Shall I tell them you’re