Turning up the Heat

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Turning up the Heat Page 16

by Erika Wilde


  “Good, because I’m not done having my way with you.” He scooped her up into his strong embrace, and she gasped in surprise and latched her arms around his neck as he started out of the living room.

  “Wait, my purse,” she said, and he bent low so she could grab it off the couch. She smiled sheepishly at him as he continued down a long hallway. “I brought condoms.”

  “Lots of them, I hope.” He carried her through double French doors into his enormous master bedroom, which also had floor-to-ceiling windows and the same stunning view as the living room.

  She took in the huge, high four-poster bed in dark mahogany, illuminated by the soft lamplight on the nightstand. “Yep, and different textures, flavors, scents and sizes.”

  He placed her gently on the middle of the mattress, but remained standing by the side of the bed. “Sounds like we’re going to be very busy tonight.” He pulled off her shoes and let both drop to the carpeted floor. “Pick one for me.”

  While she blindly reached into her purse beside her on the bed and retrieved the first packet her fingers came into contact with, Ian skimmed his palms up one leg and grasped the lacy band of her stocking. He removed the piece of lingerie, then the other, making Kerri burn and ache anew, which she found amazing considering the incredible orgasm she’d just had. Finally, he dragged her dress over her hips, down her long limbs, and tossed the material somewhere behind him.

  “Aah, naked at last.” He looked his fill, his appreciative gaze licking across her skin in a hot, velvet caress that found and devoured every feminine, intimate swell and curve.

  “Except for you.” Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, she sat up and slipped her hands into the waistband of his shorts and pushed the material down, until it fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them. He was fully aroused, long and hard and pulsing with virile life. Her sex clenched in anticipation of finally feeling all that aggressive male length deep inside her, stretching her, filling her to completion…

  He reached out to pluck the condom from her hand, and she moved it out of his reach. “Let me,” she whispered, wanting to do to him what she’d never done for another man. Another first she wanted to experience with him. She tore open the package, and a rich, fruity scent filled the air.

  Ian sniffed, then cocked his head curiously. “Is that…bananas I smell?”

  Kerri laughed softly. “Yeah, it is.” Removing the condom, she slowly, playfully sheathed him in the snug, fragrant latex, then bent low and swirled her tongue along the plump tip. “And you taste just as good.”

  A low, harsh groan escaped him, and he tangled his fingers in her hair to stop her sensual assault. Easing her back on the bed, he moved beside her, capturing her mouth in a slow, delicious kiss that made her restless and built a greater urgency to join with him. But he seemed in no hurry to end all their provocative foreplay. Her fingers twisted in his hair as his lips moved on, scattering moist, lingering kisses over her jaw, along her throat, her breasts and belly.

  And then he shifted, pressing her knees apart with his broad shoulders so he could settle in between. He slid close, hooking her legs over his biceps as he went, spreading her wide and pinning her hips to the mattress so she couldn’t move. He dipped his dark head, and his hot, damp breath brushed along the most intimate part of her.

  Startled to find herself in a position that gave Ian total control and left her completely vulnerable to him and his whims, she pushed at his shoulders, holding him at bay. “Ian?” her voice trembled with uncertainties. She’d never felt so exposed, and she was taken off guard by all the new and illicit sensations she was experiencing.

  Gently, he grasped her hands, and weaving their fingers tightly together he locked her arms at her sides, rendering her immobile. He placed a delicate bite on the inside of her thigh that made her gasp, then soothed the sting with his tongue.

  “I have to taste you,” he groaned desperately.

  He said the words as if he’d die if he didn’t, and she couldn’t refuse him because she was beginning to feel the same way…hungry for his mouth on her, wild for the caress of his tongue, desperate for yet another release.

  He wasted no time with teasing preliminaries. Pressing his open mouth against her, he glided his tongue upward in a deep, full-bodied stroke as slow and hot and erotic as a French kiss. Her entire body shuddered as he licked and suckled her as if she were the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted. His tongue swirled, flicked, ravished, then thrust deep, but not deep enough when she felt so empty inside.

  She tried to tug her hands free to pull him closer, but he held tight. She moaned and thrashed and heard herself beg. Heat and desire flared bright. Pleasure glowed and beckoned. Her thighs quivered from being restrained, and the sharp, spiraling need expanded within her as he continued his ruthless quest to savor, to feast, to send her over the edge.

  And then she tumbled mindlessly and all she could do was cry out and arch her body, and let the explosive contractions consume her. Once the aftershocks receded, he reared up and released her hands, then lifted her left leg and crisscrossed it over his opposite thigh, bending her knee back toward her to give him greater access. Limp and boneless, she let him do as he pleased, completely trusting him with her body. He rubbed the tip of his swollen cock against her slick flesh, and with a flex of his hips he buried himself to the hilt.

  He groaned in pleasure, and her breath hitched at the force and pressure and depth of his invasion, then released on a ragged moan. And then he moved over her completely, gathering her close and tilting her hips up to meet his slow thrust as he braced one arm near her head so that his fingers tangled in her hair, and rested his other palm over her breast.

  Though she felt him pulse and throb where they joined, he grew still, and stared searchingly into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Her heart turned over in her chest when she realized he was holding back for her, making sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t hurting her. While this man claimed to be traditional at the very core, she discovered that Ian was unpredictable in the bedroom, and an expert, innovative lover that took her to new heights. The sexual position he’d maneuvered her into was not only erotic and exciting, it allowed him the tightest fit and deepest penetration, all the way to her soul, it seemed.

  A surge of unexpected tenderness welled up in her. With trembling fingers, she lightly traced his jaw and dragged her thumb across his full bottom lip, still wet from her. “I like this position,” she told him with a smile. “A lot.”

  “We’re a perfect fit,” he said, and a part of her wondered if he was talking about more than just the interlocking of their bodies.

  And then the thought drifted out of her mind as he began to move—strong, powerful thrusts that ignited the same raging fire within her that she saw flickering in his dark, sensual eyes. His breathing grew harsh, his jaw clenched from restraint. But she didn’t want him holding back for her; she wanted his wild, uninhibited surrender.

  Coasting her flattened palms down the taut muscles bisecting his back, she clenched his buttocks in her hands. Rocking against him rhythmically, she urged him further, higher, harder. The friction they created was exquisite, a slow building wave of pleasure that consumed them both and sent her careening over the precipice first. With a low, guttural growl, he closed his eyes, tossed his head back and gave in to his own shattering release.

  Once he caught his breath, he lowered his head and kissed her, slowly, deeply, tenderly, conveying exactly how he felt with that show of intimacy. How much he desired her. How much he cared. And despite all that had come before, he made her tremble all over again, made her want the impossible, made her need more than was wise.

  And for tonight, she knew she’d greedily take everything he had to offer.

  * * *

  Kerri gradually woke the following morning with a long, slow, languorous stretch, a sleepy yawn, and a contented smile on her lips. She’d never meant to stay the entire night, but Ian had been very persuasive, and she
hadn’t been able to resist his tempting means of coercion.

  Rolling to her side, she let her lashes drift open…and was disappointed to discover she was all alone in Ian’s huge bed. Especially since she wanted him yet again—even after a night of the most incredible lovemaking she’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

  There were four empty condom wrappers somewhere, attesting to their night of wickedness, lust and the mutual desire they’d slaked. Her belly grew warm with recollections of how eager and insatiable she’d been, an enthusiastic partner to anything and everything Ian had in mind. He’d taken her in fun and playful ways, and in more erotic, uninhibited positions that might have shocked her at first, but had ultimately thrilled her. The man was an adept, generous, earthy lover—one who now knew her body more intimately than any other man in her past. And he’d been just as willing to let her have her way with him. Their lovemaking had been equal measures of give and take, and it was a novelty and freedom she’d enjoyed.

  With a sigh, she reached out and touched the pillow beside hers and inhaled the musky, arousing scent of sex permeating the air, the sheets, her skin. Unexpected emotions rose to the surface, demanding her attention, demanding that she acknowledge the truth she’d done her best to ignore last night—that Ian had branded her in more ways than just physically.

  Despite how she might want to neatly categorize their night together as a mutually gratifying encounter, she couldn’t deny that there had been an emotional intimacy between them that had superseded satisfying physical needs. Now that she was alone, now that the sensual glow had faded a bit and she could analyze the situation more objectively, she knew they’d indulged in more than just sex. Somehow, someway, during the night he’d touched that part of her heart she swore she wouldn’t risk again. He’d most definitely rocked her very soul the few times she’d caught him looking at her with such fierce tenderness, and a longing that echoed deep inside her.

  A longing that had no business being a part of their affair.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the sheet tighter to her breasts. Emotional involvement with Ian wasn’t supposed to happen, not when she didn’t have the time and room in her focused life for a serious relationship—especially with a man intent on being such a huge part of her life.

  She heard a muted sound coming from the opposite end of the house, and guessed that Ian was up and about, probably making himself coffee or breakfast. The clock on the nightstand revealed that it was 9:20 a.m., and she needed to leave shortly. It was Sunday and she’d promised to visit Tori at the shelter, to check in with her and see how her week had gone. And since Tori was expecting her, there was no way she’d let the other woman down—not even to spend the day with Ian.

  Dragging herself from the warm, rumpled bed, she investigated the adjoining bathroom and found it nearly as big as her bedroom in her apartment. She stepped into the spacious, glass-enclosed shower stall, turned the tap on to hot, and moved beneath the pulsating spray. She washed her body until it was pink and glowing, then shampooed her hair and dried off with a dry fluffy towel that Ian must have left out for her. Figuring that they’d swapped enough germs last night to justify using his toothbrush, she used it to clean her teeth and ran his comb though her wet hair.

  Back in his bedroom, she peeked into his closet and took the liberty of choosing a worn, comfortable-looking chambray shirt to wear instead of the skimpy dress that was now folded neatly over the chair by the door. The man was obviously a neatnik. As she buttoned the thigh-length shirt, she glanced around for her panties, but couldn’t find them, or the slacks he’d stuffed them into last night. She did spy the extra packets of condoms on the nightstand and snagged one and slipped it into her breast pocket—just in case the mood struck.

  She grinned wryly as she padded quietly down the hall to the kitchen, wondering when she’d turned into such a sex fiend—a wanton woman who couldn’t seem to get enough orgasms, who constantly craved Ian’s hands on her body, his mouth on her flesh and the exquisite heat of him stroking deep, deep inside her. The answer came too easily. It was Ian’s fault for addicting her to all the wondrous pleasures of lovemaking.

  She entered the bright room decorated in dark blue, white and shiny chrome, and found Ian sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and engrossed in a section of the Sunday paper. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, no shirt or shoes, and his damp hair curled around the nape of his neck. There was a certain intimacy about the situation that caused a fleeting pang of longing in Kerri’s midsection.

  Dismissing the frivolous emotion, she crossed the room toward the fresh pot of coffee on the counter beckoning to her. “Good morning,” she murmured.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he greeted, folding down a corner of the paper to look at her. A warm, private smile curved his lips. “Nice of you to finally join me.”

  The man was way too refreshed and cheerful when she had not yet had her first cup of coffee to jump-start her day. “I take it you’re a morning person.”

  “Yep,” he said, and set his paper aside. “I’m usually up at six faithfully, though I do have to admit that I stayed in bed this morning a little longer, just watching you sleep.”

  She ducked her head as she felt an unaccustomed blush stain her cheeks. There was that tenderness again, and just imagining him taking such avid pleasure in watching her sleep in his bed made her entire body tingle.

  “I debated whether or not to wake you up, but figured you were exhausted after last night.” The insinuation in his deep, sensual voice was unmistakable. As was the male satisfaction. “Considering how late you slept in, I’m guessing you needed the rest.”

  He’d left a mug out for her, and she added cream and sugar in the cup. “Actually, with the hours I keep at the station and how late I get home, I’m not normally a morning person at all.”

  “We’ll have to work on that.” Standing, he brought his mug to the counter, placed a warm, flirtatious kiss on the side of her neck, then nuzzled near her ear. “I think being a morning person all depends on how you wake up.”

  She grinned and slanted him a sassy look. “Then it sounds to me like you left the bed too early.” She wouldn’t have minded waking up to Ian beside her, over her, inside her…

  He poured hot coffee into her mug, then refilled his and sweetened the brew with cream and sugar, too. “And here I was, trying to be a gentleman.”

  She winked at him. “Next time, don’t try so hard.”

  He chuckled. “Next time I won’t.” He settled a hip against the counter, his gaze taking in her attire as he took a sip of his coffee. “By the way, nice outfit.”

  She shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling very presumptuous wearing his clothing and uncertain of her decision to do so, though he didn’t seem the least bit bothered. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a shirt. I didn’t feel like putting my dress back on—”

  Ian placed a finger over Kerri’s lips to silence her, seeing the insecurities that had flashed in her eyes. “I don’t mind and you don’t have to explain,” he said, then let his arm fall back to his side. “You look good in my shirt, but you look even better wearing nothing at all.”

  She rolled her eyes, then picked up her mug for a drink. “You sure know how to flatter a woman.”

  “It’s the truth.” Another realization struck him. Not only did she have a way of filling out his shirts, she looked great in his kitchen in the morning, and she fit perfectly into his house, his life. He kept those thoughts to himself, knowing she’d bolt if he so much as hinted at anything serious between them—despite the fact that the emotions that passed between them last night had elevated their relationship beyond a superficial affair.

  “You have a beautiful body and it’s a shame that you have to cover it up at all,” he continued instead, keeping the moment light and teasing. He stroked his knuckles down her smooth cheek, loving the soft feel of her skin. “Maybe I’ll tie you to my bed naked and keep you there forever, purely for my sol
e enjoyment and pleasure. And yours, too,” he added playfully.

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a sultry smile. “Umm, sounds decadent, but you’re gonna have to save that particular fantasy for another night.”

  He was glad to hear there would be another night, and that she was up for more of the sexy, seductive kind of games they’d played last night. He wasn’t sure what to expect of Kerri this morning, given that independent streak of hers, and that’s why he’d given her time alone in the bedroom, to wake up and assess the situation without him crowding her thoughts or influencing her in any way. While he knew he wanted more from Kerri than a temporary affair, she was slower in coming around. Considering what he knew of her past, he understood. And he was trying like hell to be careful not to move too fast, or pressure her, or make demands that would send her bolting before she truly gave them a chance. That she was still here and sharing a cup of coffee with him was a huge concession on her part. Especially after all the “I really should goes” he’d talked her out of last night.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” he asked, stalling for as much time with her as he could.

  She shook her head. “I’m not a big breakfast eater.” She saluted him with her mug. “Caffeine is my most important meal of the day.”

  “Looks like you have some bad eating habits we need to work on.” He sent her a look of mock disapproval as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out sliced and chilled cantaloupe for himself. “How about a bowl of cereal, or fruit? Or I can make you some eggs or pancakes—”

  “No, really, it’s okay.” Her gaze drifted to the clock on the wall, then back to him as he filled a bowl with the fruit. “Besides, I have to leave in about an hour.”

  His stomach constricted with disappointment, but he didn’t let it show. “Oh? How come?” he asked casually. He’d been hoping she’d join him for Sunday lunch at the Winslows’. “You got a hot date with someone else?” he teased.

 

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