by Lauren Smith
Desperate to regain some control, he gently, but firmly faced her away from him and slid a hand down her belly until he found her mound. The tiny bud of her clit peeped out of the folds of her sex and he stroked it reverently, knowing he’d soon have a chance to put his mouth down here, to lick her until she was hoarse from screaming. It felt like he’d waited a damned lifetime to show this woman how much he craved her.
“Oh god, that feels…” she dissolved into a moan as he stroked her folds with one fingertip, exploring her. Then he slid that finger inside her, slow at first, letting her get used to it. She was tight, her sheath gripping him like a fist.
“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this?” he murmured, nipping her neck as he began to thrust that finger over and over into her, playing with her until she was wriggling her sweet, delectable bottom against his cock.
“How much?” she demanded huskily and the sound of her voice, that deep, that sensual made his body shake.
“Every damn night since I was sixteen. Every fantasy I’ve ever had…it’s always been you.” He inserted a second finger now, stretching her a little and he curved his fingers inside her, seeking that g-spot and when he felt it, he rubbed it vigorously, stroking it over and over.
Celia started panting softly “oh shit,” over and over again as he thrust his fingers into her.
“That’s it, love, tell me how much you can take,” he encouraged, loving how much she was breaking apart in his arms, from his touch. He would do everything with her, explore every fantasy because the moment it was over…he’d never be the same. She turned in his arms, breaking free of his fingers and wrapped her arms around his neck kissing him like a woman starved of air.
She pressed tighter against him and broke the kiss to whisper in his ear.
“Here. In the shower. I want you here. Take me hard, make me forget everything but you.” Her words seemed to echo all around them, bouncing off the tiles. He was never going to forget this moment, how she looked up at him with love drunk eyes and the way she offered him herself, naked emotionally and physically, just like him.
“Thank God,” he groaned and backed her up against the wall. He gripped her bottom, lifting her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he pinned her against the wall. Celia clung to his shoulders, and he panted against her neck as he positioned himself at her entrance.
“You’re sure?”
She bit her lip and nodded, desire gleaming in her eyes. He teased her entrance, rubbing his shaft along her folds until she wriggled a little and he slid deep into the silky heat between her thighs. Carter lowered her onto his cock, and she hissed out a breath. Her thighs clenched around his hips. Celia was deliciously tight, and he could feel her quake around him as he stretched her with each thrust. Each time he filled her, he wanted to die from the exquisite pleasure. He couldn’t stop the need to claim her. He rammed home, his body hard and primal as he rode her.
Celia’s head fell back as she breathed raggedly, overwhelmed. They moved together, hands digging into skin, bodies burning with passion. He buried his head against her neck, nipping her throat as he fucked her in a hard, raw rhythm. She was a willing captive to his lust and he to hers. The tension of a pending climax built inside him, but he needed her to come first. He held her tighter against the wall, bracing her weight on one arm while he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her clit until she bucked and cried out his name. He strained, his body and mind fighting the rush that built within him, but then she said the three words that changed his life forever.
“I love you…”
He felt like his body had burst apart like a dying star as he pounded into her, gripping her to him like the precious treasure she was. He felt so connected to her that he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began anymore. Carter lifted his gaze to hers.
“I love you too.”
It was one thing to live his life knowing he loved her and sensing that she loved him back. But to finally exchange those declarations? To have them confirmed? Validated? Reciprocated? It changed everything. He withdrew from her and set her down on her feet.
“Wow…” Celia wobbled, and he caught her hips, holding herself steady, and she giggled. He laughed as well, feeling so damned good—and scared as hell at the same time. Celia was his, at least for now. Her pleasure-glazed eyes roved over his body in appreciation.
“I was so nervous earlier. I didn’t take the time to look at you as much as I wanted,” she said.
He had to resist the urge to puff out his chest. “You like what you see?”
“You know you’re gorgeous.” She laughed, her face red.
“So are you.” She was so beautiful it made him hurt inside. She blushed and ducked her head, but he caught her chin and lifted it so she couldn’t hide from him.
“No regrets?” he asked.
“No regrets.” She curled her arms around his waist, embracing him until reality brought them down from the clouds.
“We should wash and get out before your aunt runs out of hot water.”
They reached for the bar of soap on the ledge at the same time. As their fingers brushed, accidentally knocking the soap to the floor, they shared a laugh and he leaned in, kissing her softly in a way that made her heart quiver. He retrieved the bar and handed it to her. She scrubbed herself with the lathery soap, and he did the same. From time to time, they would stop, steal a kiss, brush their hands over each other, and just enjoy the spray of hot water. But they couldn’t stay here forever.
Eventually they climbed out. Celia took the fluffy towel Carter offered and shyly covered her body with it. She had no reason to be shy. She had a body built for every one of his fantasies.
She left and returned to her bedroom, probably to change into her pajamas. Carter took a few minutes to take his contacts out and brush his teeth, something he probably should have done prior to the mind-blowing shower sex.
He changed into his pajama pants but didn’t bother with a shirt. He was still hot and needed to cool down a little. He had just settled into his bed and put on his glasses when Celia slipped back inside. She wore her blue striped silk pajama shorts and a button-up top. Her towel-dried hair was still a little wet, causing the strands to curl slightly. She would look damn cute tomorrow morning with all those soft waves of gold hair, and he was going to be lying in bed next to her to enjoy it.
With a wink, he threw the covers back to let her in. She bounded over and leapt into bed with a happy grin as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“I love your glasses, you know.” She stroked a fingertip down the side of his frames. For some reason he got hard from that, like it was some kind of foreplay.
“Oh yeah?” He grasped her hips and forced himself to calm. He wanted to pace himself, and she needed to sleep. They both did if they intended to get any work done tomorrow. As much as he didn’t want to work while he was here, he was desperate to send out more pitches about the Pembroke estate to production companies. It would take a miracle, but right now anything seemed possible.
“Yeah. Maybe tomorrow you can wear those while we…you know. It’s like you’re Clark Kent and Superman.”
“I do indeed know. And I’m more than happy to play your superhero.” It was so bloody adorable how she tried to avoid saying sex. She was so shy, yet when she was lost in the heat of the moment, she allowed herself to give in to her desire and was bold and demanding. It was an irresistible combination.
She slid down the bed and cuddled up to him. He turned off the lamp and did the same. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t loved her. Now the feeling had intensified, because they had shared that last secret part of themselves with each other. The walls of their own personal Jericho had come tumbling down after one hell of a trumpet blast.
He didn’t want to think about how he’d have to let her go soon. Maybe, just maybe, he could still find a way to keep her. But in order to do that, he’d have to find some way to help Matthew.
10
; Celia rubbed her cheek against Carter’s chest and let out a contented sigh, aware of the fact that this was the second morning she’d woken in his arms. It felt even better than the first time, no doubt because they’d forged such a powerful connection the night before.
Everything felt different now. The intimacy that they’d shared hadn’t just been sex in the shower, but what came after. The soft kisses, the gentle caresses, the caring for each other. She’d become more comfortable with him, so much so that she felt no shyness about moving her hand down his chest toward his pajama bottoms and slipping her fingers under his waistband.
His breathing was still slow and even, and she wondered how long he would stay that way given the proper encouragement. She found his shaft, semi-erect, and gripped it. He was big, really big, and her thighs quivered at the memory of him driving inside her. It had felt so good, like every erotic dream she’d ever had. But it hadn’t been a dream—it had been all too wonderfully real. She was so lost in the memory of last night that she didn’t realize she was stroking him until he spoke.
“You’re playing with fire, love.” Carter’s sleep-heavy voice was low and seductive. He opened his eyes, his gaze smoldering.
She continued to stroke his cock. “Then burn me.”
His hips jerked, and she tugged his briefs down so his erect shaft sprang free. His body lay before her like a naked god, demanding her worship. She was all too happy to comply. She moved over, and before he could say anything, she took him into her mouth. His breath hitched, and he fisted a hand in her hair. She relished the salty taste of his skin as she briefly released him. He grew harder as she gripped the base of his cock and lowered her head again. She relished the power she now held over him. Celia flattened her tongue underneath his sensitive tip, and he groaned her name. His fingers knotted in her hair. She glanced up, watching his face, loving his reaction. He was so close to coming apart…
Carter pulled her off him, and she moaned a frustrated protest, but he soon silenced her by flipping her onto her back and shoving her pajama top up to expose her breasts. He cupped them, filling his hands, squeezing and caressing them—gently at first, then harder as he buried his face in the valley between them.
She wanted him inside her, and he was controlling himself far too well for her liking. “What are you doing?”
“Torturing you back,” he said gruffly. “It’s only fair.” He tweaked her nipple, and she sucked in a harsh breath as a zing of pleasure shot down to her core. She was aching with need now, the need to have his mouth on her breasts, to have him inside her. He sucked and lapped at each sensitive peak, killing her with exquisite pleasure and torturous restraint.
“Please, Carter. I need you…now.” She tugged at the gold strands of his hair, urging him to move back up her body. He chuckled in reply and tugged her shorts and panties off.
“Not yet. Not until I’ve had a taste.” He spread her thighs wide, using his shoulders to keep her open. She blushed as he gazed at her most sensitive secret part, as if devising a strategy as to how he would proceed. Then, when he was ready, he unleashed his sensual attack.
He placed light kisses on her inner thighs, then her mound, working his lips down in a heated path to her clit, and she hissed as he sucked on her too sensitive bud. She wasn’t going to last, not when he flicked his tongue in and out of her.
“Stop it! Stop teasing me,” she begged in a ragged voice. Carter finally slid up her body and grasped her hands in his, lacing their fingers together as he pinned her hands on either side of her head.
He rocked his hips against hers, entering her slowly. Again she went mindless with the sensation of being stretched and filled by him.
Carter caught her mouth with his. She abandoned all her other thoughts and just embraced being with him. When they kissed, it was as though she’d slipped into a secret world, a wooded glen alive with magic, clinging to every mote of dust that drifted between the beams of sunlight. It was their world, one that no one could ever take away from them, even after it ceased to exist and all they had left were their memories.
Celia kissed him harder, desperate to burn his lips into her heart and mind. They came in a mutual shuddering wave of pleasure and love. Carter collapsed on top of her, his lips feathering against her ear as he spoke sweet things she would never share with anyone.
She knew he had been with many women before last night, but now, here, it felt like she had been the only one. In a strange and wonderful way, it felt like this was her first time and his. She stroked her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. He breathed slowly now as he laid his head against her breasts. She knew he could feel her heart beating against his cheek.
“I don’t know how I can ever let you go after this,” he said, his soft voice sounding worried.
She fought a sudden wave of emotion. She didn’t want to let go of him either. What would the world be like for her if she had to live the rest of her days pretending she felt this way with someone else?
They didn’t say anything for a long while, but finally Carter rolled off her and went to the bathroom. She had a chance to admire his fine muscled ass as he left. When he came back, he had on his pajama bottoms and headed for the door.
She lounged on the bed, still naked from the waist down. “Where are you going?”
“To make you breakfast.” He gave her a cocky grin that made her wet all over again.
“Seriously? You’ve already seduced me quite thoroughly. I don’t need waffles too.”
He pretended to be disappointed. “No then, to the waffles?”
She threw a pillow at him. He caught it, grinning, and threw it back at her.
“That’s a yes to the waffles, by the way,” she called after him as he left. She collapsed back, stretching her arms above her head and sleepily smiling to herself. What a glorious morning.
Carter soon returned with a tray of food, and she managed to get up and find her knickers and shorts before climbing back into bed. Somehow eating naked in bed just felt wrong. The tray Carter set on her lap had a plate of waffles, fresh butter melting on top, and a small carafe of syrup. There was even a small vase full of fresh wildflowers. She looked from the tray up to him, and the hopeful expression on his face made her heart turn over in her chest.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” She reached out to him, and he leaned over, and she kissed him softly. “Go make your own and come join me.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
With a chuckle he left, and she took a bite of the waffles, moaning at their crispy, buttery goodness. The man knew how to spoil her.
They shared a quiet breakfast together, smiling at each other and enjoying the simple pleasure of being together, sharing things beyond sex.
They did as Carter had suggested, working a few hours on their laptops before Celia felt satisfied with the progress on her proposal. She saw Carter sigh and send another batch of emails to various production companies and producers. But before he could start on another, she reached over and closed his laptop.
“I think it’s time we got some fresh air,” she said. “There’s only room for one workaholic here, and we both know it’s me.”
“And I definitely want you working less,” he said with a teasing chuckle.
By the time they were ready to go, they ran into Holly in the living room.
“Have a good night last night?” she asked, glancing up from her newspaper. An orange cat that Celia had seen only a few times since arriving was lounging on the couch beside Holly, his tail twitching as he assessed them with an inscrutable feline stare.
“We had a lovely night,” Carter said. Then he added with a crooked grin, “Invigorating.”
Celia felt a blush rise beneath her skin. Invigorating. That was one way to put it. Explosive, glorious, fraught with sexual wildness—those were better ways to describe their night.
“We thought we would do a bit more sightseeing,” Celia added quickly, hoping
to prevent Holly and Carter from starting an innuendo match.
“Carter!” The shrill scream of the parrot overhead made Celia jump. He’d moved to roost on the rafters, it seemed. A second later she realized he had screamed not Carla but Carter. Had the parrot heard her and Carter last night and this morning? Had her aunt, for that matter?
“Anthony…,” Holly warned the parrot in that gentle tone all pet parents used when chastising their pet’s behavior.
“We should go.” Celia tugged Carter toward the door. “We’ll text you if we plan to make it home for dinner.”
They barely escaped the house before they burst into laughter. Celia had a suspicion that by the end of their trip, Anthony would know quite a few more colorful phrases.
The next two weeks passed in a blur of road trips, picnics in gold meadows, and dinners at dusk beneath the watchtowers of old Roman and Etruscan cities. They watched the eerie beauty of bats flying at sunset from Volterra, and they admired the precarious-looking tower of Pisa. They spent hours meandering through the art museums of Florence. Carter couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so free, so happy.
Each night he took Celia to bed, and they made love for hours until they crashed into dreamless sleep. Dawn would break over the hills, and he’d have a chance to love her all over again.
But today he was watching Celia’s face as she read her emails just after breakfast. Her brows were drawn together.
“My boss wants to have a conference call with me,” she whispered, placing a hand on her stomach as if she felt nauseous.
Carter curled an arm around her shoulders and closed his own computer so he could focus on her. “Why? Did he say?”