Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(36)
Author: Kristen Ashley

It was supremely feminine and somehow so personal he felt he was trespassing on some kind of sacred ground.

Colin saw a photo on the bedside table and he rolled to pick it up then studied it in the bedside light.

There were four people in the picture, the gorgeous woman from the portrait in the dining room (but older), a rather funny-looking, thin, bald man, Sibyl and what had to be her sister, almost her equal in magnificence, with red hair instead of blonde, blue eyes instead of hazel.

His gaze moved over Sibyl’s face in the photograph. He noted the colour of her eyes and it came to him there was another reason he knew she’d cl**axed. Her eyes shifted to the colour of sherry the moment before it happened. He knew, he’d watched in triumphant satisfaction.

He mentally shook off the pleasant memories of watching Sibyl’s orgasm and focussed again on the photo.

The family was obviously loving, their arms thrown around each other. Sibyl and her father were caught amidst laughter (something he had still never seen, although he’d heard it) while the two red-headed women, old and young, were making faces at the camera.

Colin put the frame down and his eyes moved to glance around the room. They stopped at the window seat which had a book sitting in it like someone had just been interrupted while reading. Then they went to the dressing table which had a feminine mess of cosmetics but also held a variety of delicate, exquisite bottles, all with no labels.

As he was studying the bottles, the cat jumped agilely on the bed and surveyed him curiously for about two seconds then lay gracefully on his side and started cleaning his back foot.

Colin had the distinct feeling that something was not right with this picture.

Before he could decide what that was, there was a clamour somewhere in the house and he knew that Sibyl and Mallory were back.

The clamour spread, Colin heard it come up the stairs and then the dog bounded in the room and stopped clumsily at his side of the bed. He lifted Colin’s hand with his nose and bumped it up so it was resting on the dog’s head.

“Do you want something to eat?” He heard Sibyl ask.

Colin’s attention turned from the dog to see Sibyl was standing at the door. Regardless of her makeup, she looked about sixteen years old.

He felt his gut clench with unease.

When he didn’t answer, she went on, “Drink?”

“I’m fine, Sibyl,” Colin answered, surveying her closely.

He fought his body’s demand to drag her back into bed while she looked over her shoulder and out the door.

“Do you want a…” she hesitated, looked back at him and then tossed her head in an act of frustration, about what only she was privy, “tour of my house?”

There was something meaningful to that offer, something outside the realm of their bargain, something that made that unease in his gut spread.

He forced his tone to be gentle. “I’d very much like a tour of your house but later. Now I want you to come back to bed.”

She hesitated then walked to the side of the bed. Her hands at the waistband of her jeans, she kicked off her shoes.

Something made him ask quietly, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Her eyes flew to his. They were back to the colour of sherry, with but a hint of green close to the pupils.

Without a word, she shook her head.

Then she took off her clothes swiftly and, with a graceful gesture of her arm, tossed them across the room. Then even more swiftly, she lifted the covers and slid under them.

She resumed her position on her belly, her head turned away from him. Even na**d in bed at his side, her position closed her off to him, removing herself from him and Colin didn’t like it.

At all.

He slid the covers down again to expose her back and ran the flat of his palm up from the gentle curve of her rounded bottom up to the expanse of smooth skin between her shoulders.

And again, as he did, Sibyl trembled.

He stared at her back, her hair and realised she was all his.

For two months.

And he gloried in that thought.

He pulled her hair away from her neck and kissed her between her shoulder blades.

Then he lifted his lips to her ear. “You’re doing very well.”

She didn’t hesitate in her response.

“Thanks.” Her voice betrayed she meant none of the gratitude that word meant. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

That feeling of unease spread precariously close to his cold heart.

“Sibyl,” he called.

She didn’t turn to him and sighed before asking, “Can’t we just go to sleep?”

“No,” he answered honestly. Sibyl Godwin, Colin had long since decided, would not get very much rest that night.

Nor, likely, for the next two months.

She rolled, dislodging his hand and lay on her side, up on her elbow. He settled on his elbow facing her while she pulled the covers over her br**sts. He noticed her eyes were no longer sherry, they were back to emerald. The effect of the colour change was extraordinary.

“Well, of course, you have to get your money’s worth,” she snapped tartly after she caught his eyes.

“I’ve already had it,” he replied truthfully.

At his remark, her eyes rounded and he watched in fascination as she pulled her lips between her teeth for a moment as if literally biting back words she wanted desperately to say.

And her eyes melted back to sherry.

That’s when he knew he could kiss her.

Much later, when he lifted his head and she followed it with hers to keep in contact with his mouth, he finished what he meant to say.

Smoothly, in one fluid movement, he slid inside her magnificent, tight wetness and, while he did, she exposed her throat to him as she arched her back and neck in an open demonstration of the pleasure she felt at allowing him inside.

Her legs lifted up, her knees at his sides so high they were nearly tucked into the pits of his arms, and her thighs tightened against him. This action drew him exquisitely deeper into her.

“Sibyl,” he called her name as he settled inside her, not moving and practically gritting his teeth with the effort, she was so splendid.

Her head righted, hair wildly tumbled on the pillows framing her passion-filled face.

“Colin,” she whispered, his name from her lips, said in that husky tone of sex, caused his body to twitch involuntarily.

He fought back his response and warned, “I may have had my money’s worth but you still owe me two months and I’m going to have them.”

Her eyes rounded again but her h*ps moved, inviting the movement of his.