by Dani Collins
Smiling, she did something she hadn’t imagined she could. She leaned in and kissed his mouth while both her hands skimmed over the intriguing ripples of his upper chest, exploring the texture of a light sprinkle of hair and satin skin over muscles that flexed under her caress.
He groaned, but rather than gather her into a tight crush, she felt a tickling graze of fingers between her breasts. A second later, she was the one to draw back and watch as he finished opening her white-and-red Makricosta blouse.
Her ivory bra beneath was practical and almost adolescent. She didn’t have much to support and had never seen the point in spending money on something only she would see. An urge to apologize rose to the back of her throat, but the way he traced the top of one small cup, caressing the upper slope of her breast, had her holding her breath.
“I have a wicked addiction to cocoa,” he told her as he took his time spreading the shirt wide on her shoulders, patiently tugging it free of her skirt. His returning touch was whisper-soft as he grazed her ribs and found his way to the clasp in the middle of her back.
Her back arched from his caress and her bra loosened. She drew in a breath, hesitant, but his hand came around and cupped her breast. The sensation blanked her mind, holding her in thrall. So much heat. He was like an inferno, and so masculine, but reverent. There was aggression, she could feel the possessiveness in the way he enclosed her like he had every right, his touch firm, but he was gentle at the same time. Softly crushing, as if he knew she would enjoy the sensation of pressure increasing by degrees. He massaged flesh that felt heavy and achy and prickling in one tight spot.
His touch shifted as he leaned in to capture her mouth. Muscle flexed under her hands as she met his searching kiss with welcome. Sensations overwhelmed her, but a particularly sharp one pierced through her psyche. He thumbed her nipple, making it feel knotted and tighter and more sensitive. And so vulnerable, yet excited.
She whimpered, distressed by the rocketing spikes of pleasure going straight through her abdomen into a place that had retreated to hibernation a long time ago.
“God, Jaya, let me taste you.”
He pressed her onto her back on the cushions, covering her so smoothly she didn’t realize how she’d wound up under him, her bra pushed up and his weight pinning her hips, one leg between his, the other dangling off the edge of the cushions.
A gasp of shock scraped her throat as she pulled in air, trying to catch up to this new circumstance, trying to decide if she was okay with it.
“So gorgeous.”
Damp heat closed over the pulsing tip of her breast. Knifing spears of delight pulled upward from her flesh.
Be scared, she told herself, but the scariest thing was how devastating this pleasure was. Her hands couldn’t get enough of roaming his back. His bunched shirt kept getting in the way, irritating her. His weight on her should have terrified her, but when she bucked, it was slowly, because she couldn’t help herself. Her leg couldn’t find purchase alongside his so she let her ankle curl behind his thigh.
And she moaned. Aloud. Even though a distant voice said, Don’t. Don’t be sexual, don’t encourage him, don’t embarrass yourself. She couldn’t help it. He had both her breasts cupped into mounds that he sipped and licked and tortured. It was incredible.
“Theo, I can’t stand it.”
He lifted to kiss her, swooping like a predator to ravage her mouth as he shifted their position and was fully between her legs. The layers of her wrinkled skirt had climbed so his fly came into firm contact with the cotton of her underpants.
Panic began to edge out her arousal.
She pressed his shoulders and he broke their kiss to set his damp forehead against hers. “I know, I’m pushing it, but this is as far as we’re going. I’ve just realized I don’t have any condoms.” He smoothed her hair back from what must have been a stunned expression and kissed her once, quite hard. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”
She did. Her hips wriggled involuntarily and he shuddered, pressing that most assertive part of himself to her vulnerable softness, pinning her motionless as he released a dry laugh.
“Okay, maybe you do.” Kissing her with regret, he grazed his lips over her cheekbones and eyebrow. “You feel so good. You’re so pretty. I don’t want to stop touching you.” His hand skimmed the outside of her thigh, making her trembling muscles contract to tighten her leg against him. “Will you let me make it good for you, at least? Can I know what it feels like to touch you?”
He set a sweet kiss on her chin while his hand climbed under her gathered skirt and learned the style and texture of her mood-killing matronly underpants.
She opened her mouth, thoughts scattering in a dozen directions by arousal and conflicting misgivings. Her mind refused to fix on anything let alone a clear yes or no.
Before she could form words, he shifted enough to cover her mound with a compelling rock of his hand. Stars shot behind the backs of her eyes.
“Like that?” he murmured, licking her neck and easing his touch to a lighter caress through the layer of cotton. Just a soft trace against a very intimate place that made her pulse with need. “Softer? Tell me what you like.”
“I didn’t come here for this,” she managed to whisper, aware that she was becoming completely abandoned, letting her legs fall open to his incredible facility with a woman’s body. Wanting whatever he’d give her. “But it feels so good.”
“I know. Hate me later, but right now can I keep doing this? You’re so incredible...”
He kissed her neck and sidled his touch beneath the cotton, knowing exactly what he was doing in a way that should have alarmed her, but she didn’t care. At this moment, she really didn’t care about anything except that he keep his attention on that exquisite bunch of nerves tangled into a signal that sent ripples outward through her abdomen. He wasn’t in any hurry, seeming to luxuriate in circling and stroking, driving her crazy.
She bit at his lips, dying, wild, loving his touch and him for giving her this amazing build of pleasure, this incessant desire for physical contact with a man.
He said sinful things about what he wanted to do to her, sucked her nipple and said, “Let me kiss you here. I want to lick you. It’ll be so good, Jaya—”
“No,” she gasped. Her horror was pure, latent shyness, but the idea of him doing that was so wickedly intriguing her arousal spiked to something she couldn’t contain. Convulsively trying to close her legs, she could only squeeze his wide, masculine hips, unable to stop what he was doing. She couldn’t catch back her uninhibited response. Her only choice was complete surrender to him and her body’s sharp need.
Her reward was a deep throb of sheer joy expanding through her in shuddering waves. Her throat filled with a cry of release that was more than just physical. It was emotional triumph. Freedom from the past. Joy at a man’s touch.
CHAPTER THREE
INCREDIBLE TENDERNESS MADE her slither in sweet lassitude beneath him, loving the hard strength of him, the disheveled intensity holding him tense as she ran her fingers into his hair. She made him lift his head so she could look at him.
It was painfully intimate to let him look into her eyes when she had just shattered so completely. His hand stilled where he still had it tucked against her mons and an internal ache made her long to beg him to continue stroking her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he put down her shiny eyes to arousal.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Stick around. There’s more where that came from.” He punctuated with a gentle, deliberate caress that slid low and penetrated her pulsing channel.
She tightened, part of her reaction instinctual resistance, but the sensation of clasping his thick finger was so delicious she moaned and lifted her hips a little, encouraging more.
“Ah, Jaya...” His hot mouth opened in a
wet kiss against her neck and he deepened his possession of her.
“Wait,” she gasped, still clasping his head and this time clutching him close with her arms hard on his shoulders while she stared at the back of the sofa. Was she really going to do this? Her body was on fire while her mind was cleaving in all directions.
He removed his hand from her underpants and she moaned in loss.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, skimming his lips against her jaw before he lifted his head and removed her hand from his hair. “You don’t have to rip my hair out. This has gone further than you wanted to, I get it.”
“No, I—” Disconcerted, she dropped her twitching fingers to his shoulders, sorry she’d hurt him, sorry she’d lost his exquisite caresses. She didn’t want this to end, not yet. This was her chance to get over her past. “I have a pill in my room. One that, um, prevents a pregnancy after, um, unprotected sex.” Please don’t ask me why I have it.
Her voice faded toward the end. She was grossly unsure of herself and given how he’d pulled away, maybe he wasn’t all that invested. He became very grave as he pondered what she’d said, making her hold her breath.
“I always wear a condom.”
Disappointment sliced surprisingly deep. She swallowed and nodded. “I understand. It’s okay. Like you said, this isn’t something we intended, so—”
“No, I mean I’m clean. I’ve never gone bareback so you don’t have to worry I’d give you anything.”
“I...” Had tests. Again, she didn’t want to think about Saranya taking her to the doctor once she’d got her out of India. That dark time was being overcome, here, tonight, with this man. “I’m clean, too.”
He searched her face. She recognized the glaze of concentration in his eyes as a passionate force. It nearly squeezed the air right out of her.
“Swear to me you’ll take that pill.” His lips barely moved.
“My family would take out a contract on me if I had a baby outside of marriage.”
He held himself in steely control and she could almost hear the computations of risk against desire. “I don’t want to be a father. Ever. If you’re thinking this might lead to something—”
“No!” she insisted, casting for the right words. “It’s like you said about not wanting to think about certain things. I want something different in my mind.” A new memory. A good one. “A baby would be a disaster. But I want to feel...you,” she ended in a whisper.
His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath, his nod brief and sharp before he pulled away, gathering her up as he found his feet. The strength in him as he lifted her and held her cradled to his chest made bells ring in her ears, but she found herself curling her arm around his neck and burying her face into the masculine scent in the crook near his shoulder.
What she had said was broad enough to be true in many ways. She wanted to think of men differently, but there was a part of her deeply enthralled in the now. She could barely form a thought beyond her need for physical contact with this man.
He set her on the bed and straightened, not turning on the light. Only the faint glimmer from the pool deck through the windows penetrated.
She hugged her knees as she watched him slide his belt free and toss it away, toeing off his shoes at the same time.
“Are we taking turns? Because I’m dying to see you,” he said with enough ragged edge on his voice to make her shiver.
She looked down at her crumpled uniform, her shirt open, her bra still loose across her chest. Shyness was the only thing holding her back from undressing, she realized with a glistening lilt of joy. Not fear, just natural self-consciousness about undressing in front of a man.
As she hesitantly drew her shirt off her shoulders she confessed, “You’ve seen a lot of women. I don’t know how I’ll compare.”
Down to his briefs as he peeled away his socks, he said, “I’m not very sure of my ability to hang on until I’ve given you everything I want you to have. I do not want to be the selfish bastard you compare every future lover to.”
He wouldn’t be, not by a long shot. And even though a quick coupling was probably better for her, given her hang-ups, she doubted it was a good thing to say. Besides, he stole the shirt she was trying to fold and lifted her bra away, dropping both to the floor. The air-conditioned room made her curl her toes, incredibly self-conscious of her naked breasts and beaded nipples as she forced her hands to remain beside her hips.
Sitting there in the half-light, staring at his muscled frame, she was accosted by a pull in her abdomen, but it wasn’t fear or misgivings. It was longing. She wanted his hot, muscled body on hers. She wanted to feel those hard thighs between her own without cloth between them.
He started to remove her sandals and she kicked them off herself, letting him ease her onto her back in a sprawl under him as he loomed over her. The brush of his skin against hers was brand-hot, making her quiver with disconcertion. But the reassuring stroke of his hand up her waist to cup her breast calmed her nerves even as his expert touch sensitized her.
“Did I mention my addiction to cocoa?” he asked huskily. “I could sip these chocolate nipples of yours all night.”
He bent to enclose her in wet heat and the return of excitement was like a blow, bringing up one of her knees. Sweet delight flashed through her, rippling waves of pleasure that didn’t fade, only increased.
“I want to kiss you,” she admitted as he shifted to tease her other breast. A coiled knot of tension pulled in her abdomen. It made her bold, impatient for the build and release of orgasm.
As he lifted his head to look at her, he skimmed a hand down, silently asking her to lift her hips so he could push her skirt off. When had he lowered the zipper?
She complied and he reared up onto his knees, stealing the last of her clothes. Her thighs twitched, locking closed in nervous tension while she stared at the black briefs hugged tight to his hips and thighs. His erection was a thick, unapologetic ridge behind the stretchy fabric.
He sat back on his heels, knees splayed, hands in loose fists against his thighs. He let out a harsh breath, like he was under strain. “God, you’re pretty.”
He says it to all of them, she warned herself, but she couldn’t help smiling. The way he studied her with the intensity he usually reserved for spreadsheets, but had that light of excitement and wolfish half smile on his face, seemed like genuine admiration. It affected her, relaxing her and making her want to writhe invitingly—if only she knew how.
“Will you kiss me again? Please?” She lifted a hand and he let out a gruff laugh as he stretched out beside her, leaning over her.
“I’ll kiss every inch of you.” He gathered her up to his muscled body and she felt bruised by the hardness of him. He was so hot, so strong beneath his taut, satiny skin. She couldn’t resist stroking his back and shoulders as he kissed her. Their tongues flicked and delved and it felt totally natural. Better than natural. Necessary.
She did writhe then, moved by instinct, body involuntarily lifting into the stroke of his hands, arching to push her breast into his cupped palm, rolling her face into his caressing fingertips when he dragged his mouth to her neck. Then he was laving her nipple again, bringing the ferocious need into her loins. Mother Nature had a plan, quite obviously. She ached for attention between her thighs.
If only she knew how to make love as well as he did. He massaged her belly and grazed fingertips along the seam of her thighs, inciting her to relax them open. Then, finally, he was tracing into her wet heat, penetrating easily into the dampness that welcomed him. His caress was so stunningly good. As his thumb rolled over the taut peak of her clitoris, tiny sparks shimmered through her, gathering toward the implosion. She gasped, awed that she could feel this way again, from this deeply intimate touch.
He shifted, licked under her breast and kissed a trail down her abdomen.
“Theo,” she panted.
“Every inch, Jaya.” He left off caressing her and used his damp hand to crook her knee open, pressing a firm kiss to her inner thigh.
“No, Theo, please don’t.”
“Don’t be shy.” He came back onto his elbow beside her, his expression so feral and aroused she ought to have been terrified, but his voice was calm and controlled, his hand on her navel soothing. “I am seriously worried about not being able to last once I get my skivvies off. Let me make it good for you.”
While a nervous giggle bubbled in her at his blunt remark, she knew her limits.
“This is good for me.” Her voice hitched with deep emotion and she glanced up through stinging eyes, hoping he couldn’t see in the shadowed light how out of sorts she was—enthralled and uneasy, but resolved. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He muttered a curse, closing his eyes and averting his face.
Pressing into the mattress, she asked warily, “Are you angry?”
“What? No. But you’re not helping my control with talk like that. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be inside you? Years. Since the first time I saw you.”
He jackknifed off the bed, giving her space as he continued his grumbling tirade while stripping his briefs.
“You said earlier that you didn’t know I thought about you this way. Well, you’ve never once hinted you did, either. Do you know how sexy it is to hear you want me?”
As he straightened, she thought, “want” is debatable. She wanted to feel normal. She wanted to feel close to Theo. But that aggressive thrust of masculine power made her apprehensive.
He came back to cover her, a practiced knee pressing her legs open as he settled on her. She stiffened, waiting for the breach, but he only cupped her face and set a soft kiss on her upper lip.
“Did I kill the mood? I didn’t mean to. This is the most bizarre night of my life.”
“That sort of flattery restores it,” she teased, because this was the considerate Theo she recognized. Even so, she was hyperaware of the hard, thick muscle pressed so close to her vulnerable folds.