A Feast of You

by Sorcha Grace

  Had anyone been watching us, they would have gotten an eyeful, as we’d done a lot more than just make out. I’d always known William had a voracious sexual appetite, but I hadn’t realized exactly just how voracious. I’d lost count of the number of times we’d had sex, and I don’t think there was a place on the island or in the opulent Balinese-style house we hadn’t made use of—the beach, the pool, the Jacuzzi, a chaise, the shower, a hammock, the garden, the kitchen. It had been decadent and glorious. We’d spent long afternoons out of the heat of the day in a huge, teak, four-poster bed draped with a gauzy white canopy and curtains. The house had open galleries on every side so the tropical breeze and gentle lapping of the surf had provided the soundtrack, and a dazzling white beach and the cerulean blue ocean were literally just steps away. I’d seen a lot of beaches in my life, but nothing as beautiful as that.

  Except maybe William.

  He’d been so relaxed and open on Tropos. It wasn’t just the sex. That would never be a problem between us. It was the hours we’d spent talking and laughing together that had felt so right. We’d both forgotten all of our problems back in Chicago and we’d connected in a way we hadn’t before.

  I hadn’t had any of the doubts I’d had on our Napa trip and I’d tried hard not to overthink things and to just feel. And what I’d felt was love. I’d felt loved by William, cherished and adored even. And I loved William just as deeply as I’d loved Jace, maybe even more so. Admitting that didn’t feel like any kind of betrayal now. Jace was dead and I deserved to find happiness again. And I was really lucky because I had.

  I stood and pulled my hair out of its ponytail then fished around in my suitcases for something warm to wear to bed. Even with the heated floors, the master suite seemed cold after four days in the Caribbean. I could hear William in the bathroom, putting his things away, turning on the water to brush his teeth, and it all sounded so familiar. I remembered getting ready for bed like this with Jace and that same feeling of comfortable companionship came over me. But my relationship with William was very different from my marriage. It was more mature, more grounded. I’d been just out of college when Jace and I had married, but I’d grown up a lot since he’d died and I wanted different things now.

  As if he’d heard me thinking about him, I glanced up and found William leaning on the bathroom’s doorframe, watching me. “It’s been hard for you,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Nothing had been difficult on Tropos. Just the opposite, in fact.

  He moved into the room. “The break-in at your condo, living here, having a bodyguard follow you everywhere you go.”

  “Oh, that.” It had been nice to forget all of that for a few days, and it would be nice to forget it permanently. Now that we were back in Chicago, it struck me again how quickly my life had changed since William and I met. Most of those changes had been good, but not all.

  He gestured toward my two suitcases, which I’d propped open at the foot of the bed. “You haven’t even really unpacked. I cleared space in the closet for you, but you aren’t using it.”

  “I haven’t had time.”

  William raised a brow. Yeah. We both knew that wasn’t true. I sighed. “I don’t know. It feels strange, I guess. That’s your closet.”

  “Catherine—”

  I held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. I should treat this like my home. I’m welcome here. All that.”

  “If you know it, why don’t you do it?”

  I shrugged. “Because this isn’t my place. It’s yours, and I guess I like the reminder that I’ll be going back to my own condo soon.” Before he could interrupt or argue, I hurried to finish. “Everything has happened so fast. And I was only here for a week after the break-in and then we went to Tropos. I thought everything would be cleared up in a few days, and I’d be back home by now.”

  William crossed to me and took me in his arms. It always felt like coming home when he held me, which was probably one of the reasons I tended to forget how weird it was that we were living together already.

  “Like I said, I know it’s been hard for you.” His deep voice vibrated through me since he was holding me close against his sculpted chest. “I spoke with the police before we left for the Caribbean and they were still investigating the incident at your condo. George is putting everything he has into finding who sent those pictures. I’ll get another update first thing in the morning.”

  I smiled up at him. “Thanks. Do you think my description of the guy I saw in my building helped at all?” The morning of the break-in, I’d let in a repairman who said he was there to fix a leaky pipe. But it had turned out there was no leaky pipe and he definitely wasn’t a plumber. That was the only solid lead we had.

  “Every little bit helps. Whoever is behind this thinks he can go around terrorizing the people I love.” He squeezed me. “I’m not going to let that go unpunished. We’ll find him.”

  “I know.”

  “In the meantime, you’re safe here. With me.” He squeezed me tighter.

  I looked up at him. “And I love being here with you. I mean, what’s not to love?”

  His eyes narrowed. “But?”

  Shit. He already knew me so well. I wanted to be honest, so I took a deep breath and blurted out, “But this is really way too soon for us to be living together. I mean, really living together. Plus, I miss my stuff, you know? I love my condo. I miss my bed, my desk, my darkroom. I really miss my darkroom.”

  William looked at me, his eyes a clear bright blue, that “take no prisoners” blue I was sure had stared down more than a few business rivals across the negotiating table. He wasn’t going to give an inch. “What can I do to make you more comfortable here?” he asked.

  I knew he was completely sincere and was willing to be accommodating, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this was his place, his style, his domain or that this is where he wanted me to stay. “You can keep pushing for the authorities to resolve this whole thing so I can go home,” I said.

  William tensed. “Catherine, I don’t think you quite understand what we’re dealing with.

  I pulled out of his arms. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that maybe you living here shouldn’t be just temporary. Having you here is the only way I can truly protect you.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t accept that. I’m not ready to give up my condo or my stuff.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m going home again, William. I’ll be perfectly fine. And we’ll be perfectly fine,” I added.

  William held up his hands. It was a gesture of surrender, though he’d never actually surrender. “You’re still not safe. If there’s something you need, security can retrieve it for you.”

  “I need to go home.” I was suddenly desperate for my own space, away from William’s paranoia about the whole situation. I’d been unnerved by the break-in too, but I’d found out there had been a string of similar incidents in my neighborhood. The cop that night had told me that burglary was the most common crime in Lincoln Park. Which meant I wasn’t so certain the break-in and the pictures I’d been sent were related.

  But William wouldn’t even listen when I tried to tell him my thoughts. He was way overreacting to everything. And I’d gone along so far because I’d been scared and because it was hard for me to tell him no sometimes.

  “Listen to me, Catherine.” He took me by the arms. It was a gentle but firm hold. “Do not go to your condo without Asa or Anthony, and then only if it’s absolutely necessary. Understand?”

  “Okay, but if I’m going to be here longer, I’ll need a few things.”

  “Like I said, security can retrieve whatever you need.”

  Like my independence? I thought, but said nothing.

  * * *

  I washed my face and brushed my teeth before changing into a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. When I came out of the bathroom, William was lying in bed with his head propped on his elbow, watching me. I knew that look, but I just couldn�
��t believe he was interested in more sex. “I’m going to get some socks,” I told him.

  “I’m just going to take them off again.” He crooked a finger at me. “Come here, Catherine. I promise I won’t let you get cold.”

  I hesitated but I wasn’t going to win the battle, so I padded over to stand before him. He gave me a long, hot look. “You know, I think I’ve made a miscalculation,” he said.

  “You? Never.” I was teasing, but he didn’t smile.

  “I didn’t realize how hot you look in T-shirts.”

  I laughed. “Right.”

  He sat up. “I’m being serious. I like how that shirt stretches across your tits. Nice pokies.”

  “That’s because I’m cold.” But it wasn’t. It was because he was giving me that look, the one that made everything inside me churn with need.

  “Take it off,” he demanded.

  “If you like it so much—”

  “If you like it, take it off before I tear it off.” His voice was little more than a growl, and I knew he meant it. Since the T-shirt was one I’d bought in Australia when I’d accompanied Jace to a big surfing event there, I wanted to keep it. But I wasn’t going to let William rush me. Slowly, I tugged it up and pulled it over my stomach, revealing my breasts inch by inch, finally pulling it over my head and dropping it on the floor.

  “Your nipples are rock hard,” he observed. They were. A moment ago, I hadn’t been thinking about sex. Now I couldn’t wait for him to touch me. Just thinking about him sliding inside me made my nipples ache. I reached up to fondle them, something that drove him crazy, but he shook his head. “Take your pants off. Slowly.”

  I grinned. “I’m not sure I can make a flannel strip tease very sexy.”

  “You can make anything sexy,” he said, and his eyes were so molten grey I believed him.

  I tugged at the tie of the pants, loosening it, then dipping my fingers into the waist of the pajamas. Millimeter by millimeter I lowered them over my tanned skin. William hadn’t forgotten to feed me on Tropos—he never forgot to feed me, so there might have been a little more of me to see than when I’d first met him. That didn’t seem to faze him. He said he liked my curves. I hoped so, because it didn’t seem likely that his love affair with food was going to end anytime soon, which meant mine wasn’t going to end either.

  The pants slid over my hips and down. I wiggled a little to help their progress, though they were loose enough that it wasn’t necessary. But the way William leaned forward told me he liked it, so I slid the pants lower until they hugged the curve of my buttocks. With my thumbs hooked in the waistband, I could feel the heat coming from my body. I was already wet for him, and I dipped my hand lower and slid a finger through the dampness pooling on my sex. I moaned quietly, then trailed my fingers up my belly and between my breasts.

  William’s eyes were impossibly dark now. I could practically feel the pulse of his arousal radiating toward me from the bed. I sashayed around until my back was facing him and wriggled the pants off my hips.

  “Nice ass,” William murmured. His voice was low and husky. I glanced at him over my shoulder then allowed the pants to drop to the floor.

  “Oops,” I said, and bent over, very slowly, to retrieve them.

  I heard William’s quick intake of breath and was smiling to myself when he barreled into me and pinned me to the wall. He’d moved so fast my head was spinning. One minute he was lying in bed, looking like a hungry panther. Now he’d grabbed me about the waist and propelled me against the wall. His hands cupped my breasts and his knee kicked my legs apart. “Enough teasing,” he murmured in my ear. “Put your hands against the wall.”

  “William—” I don’t know what I intended to say, but William wasn’t having any dissention.

  “Hands on the wall. Palms flat.”

  I obeyed, pressing my hands against the wall. William took my hips in his hands, pressing down until I was bent and exposed. Holding me steady, he drove his hot cock into me. The savagery of it both surprised and exhilarated me. I loved it rough, and he was usually so gentle with me. He pounded into me, his hands sliding up to fondle my breasts, teasing my hard points until I was panting with pleasure and the promise of more to come. His balls slapped against me in a rhythm I couldn’t resist. I rolled my hips against him, taking him deeper, pressing against him where I needed him most.

  He drove into me again and filled me so deeply I had to dig my nails into the plaster. He slid out, every inch of him sending little frissons of pleasure through me. I sighed and closed my eyes, enjoying his hard member and the way he wielded it. Then he thrust into me again, and I threw my head back, biting my lip to keep my orgasm at bay.

  “You’re close,” he said, his voice as ragged with desire as I felt.

  “I’m there. William, please.”

  “Come for me, beautiful girl,” he said, shocking me with his easy capitulation. Usually he made me wait until I was screaming with want. I let go, rocking back on him until I milked every last ounce of pleasure, until I was so sated that only William’s hands on me and my palms against the wall kept me upright. Slowly, I opened my eyes and realized William hadn’t finished with me.

  There was only one reason he’d let me climax so quickly.

  He had more in mind.

  His teeth scraped against my shoulder and my skin pebbled in response. His breath was hot on my skin when he said, “Get in bed.” He pulled out, and I was relieved his hands grasped my waist because otherwise I might have fallen over. I stood up, my legs wobbling under me, and William swept me into his arms.

  “I could have made it,” I protested, but the truth was I melted when William gave me what I called ‘the princess treatment.’

  “But I like carrying you,” he said, kissing me and laying me down on the bed, which was still slightly warm from his body. “And you’ll need your strength for what I have planned.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I’m so glad you asked.” He slid the door of the nightstand open, and I had to contain my surprise. William used a blindfold or handcuffs on me on occasion, but we’d never really gotten into sex toys. His cock was better than any vibrator, and he seemed to know it.

  He pulled out a long silver container and flicked off the top. “Lube?” I asked. “I don’t think we need it.”

  He eyed me wickedly as he cupped my sex and pressed his fingers between my damp swollen folds. “This, beautiful girl, isn’t where I’m going to fuck you.” He pressed the lever on the container and squirted a tiny amount of clear liquid onto his finger.

  “It smells like...I don’t know. Yummy.”

  “It’s lightly scented with my personal fragrance.”

  I rolled my eyes and started to giggle. William’s perfumers also made him scented lube? The ridiculous luxuries embraced by the super rich, the kinds of things I’d never imagine in a million years—like personally scented lube—constantly surprised me. And then William tilted the canister and squirted a thin line of the lubricant between my breasts. I gasped. The lube was cool but instantly began to warm to the temperature of my skin.

  “Cold?” he asked, his gaze catching the way my nipples had puckered.

  “Not anymore. It feels warm now. A little tingly.”

  He took a drop on his finger and rubbed it on one nipple and then the other. It was warm and pleasantly stimulating. “We’ll have to try this somewhere else,” I said.

  “That’s what I was thinking. But not tonight.” He rose over me, his cock still jutting from between his legs. He was rock hard and unsatisfied. “Push your tits together for me, love. I want them wet and slippery.”

  I pushed my breasts together, barely resisting the urge to touch my nipples. The lube had begun to make them pulse and ache. I could only imagine how they’d feel if William used his skilled fingers on me. He’d given me a nipple orgasm before. I had no doubt he could do it again.

  But now he clenched his legs on either side of my chest and slid his cock between my
breasts. The lube warmed further when he glided through it, and at his movement I felt an answering pull in my sex.

  “That feels good,” he said, thrusting. I glanced down at his thick erection, the head of which glistened with lube as he worked it across my slick skin. I liked this position because I could look up at him and watch as he brought himself to orgasm. His thighs were taut, the muscles perfectly defined. His stormy eyes were intense as always, but when he looked at me I saw a ferocious love in their depths. I wanted to watch him climax, watch the way his throat worked to swallow and how his head fell back. I loved seeing when agony and ecstasy merged in that one powerful moment of release. But then his hands were on my breasts.

  He didn’t stop thrusting in the valley I’d made, but he plucked at my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Something happened with the lube when he did that. It almost sizzled on my skin, making my already straining points even more responsive. William moved back and forth and his fingers worked my nipples until I was writhing beneath him. It was like he’d found a cord connected to my clit and he was tugging it gently, bringing me to closer and closer to the edge.

  I moaned as the sensations he created with his hands reached a new height. William’s cock was thick and the veins stood out. He moved fast, fucking my tits hungrily. Finally, he growled, “Oh God, I fucking love you, Catherine. I’m going to come.”

  “Yes.” That was all the permission I needed to let go, and I felt the orgasm slam into me just as William pulled back and spilled himself all over my breasts. The hot liquid slid over my sensitive nipples, as my orgasm went on and on. William reached back, pressed a hand between my legs, and I shuddered the last of my release then closed my eyes and allowed myself to sink into oblivion.