“You can.” His hand spread on her belly prevented her coming up further, making her rock back down onto her elbows. “You will.” Looking at her from his position so low down her body, eyes glittering with lust, desire flooding the hazel irises with heat, his voice was almost hedonistically guttural.
Gone was the sweet, laughing, patient man she’d first met, gone was the daring, challenging man of last night, gone was the wicked amusement. Now it was pure concupiscence, carnal eroticism. Passion. It oozed from him, filled his eyes, seemed to seep from his body, slip into her, spreading heat everywhere he touched, he kissed, he held.
And he did hold her, captured her with those burning eyes, held her down with that tall, muscular body, controlled her with those big, firm hands.
She couldn’t think, could only swallow, her throat dry, pulses pounding, body screaming for him, fire dancing along her skin tracing the tantalizing path he’d licked down her body.
She bit her lip as he shifted lower, moving almost sinuously, sliding further down, strong hands urging her thighs apart as he settled between them, his broad shoulders pushing her so much wider, baring her to his view.
Baring everything she had, she was. Christ, she felt like he was consuming her with his touch, his eyes - and then his mouth.
His head dropped, fingers gripped her hips as he licked along her hard, sudden, a swipe of pure possession that had her shuddering, throat arched.
Elissa had heard of men giving oral sex. Had heard that some women liked it, some didn’t. Some men liked to give it, some didn’t. It was amazing, wonderful, magical.
It was nothing like this, nothing like her wildest dreams.
So vulnerable, open to him, dependant on his control of his teeth and tongue, totally at his mercy, Elissa could only writhe on the bed, arch, shudder with every swipe of his tongue, every decadent lick, and when his lips fastened over the little bud previously hidden and now bared by his gentle ruthlessness, she could only scream his name as he flicked, sucked, rolled the little bud, massaged it with his tongue, throwing her over a fiery ridge that threatened to consume her very soul.
He pushed her over it, dragged her through it, forced her back panting and almost crying with sheer ecstasy as he continued to tongue and suck, lick and lave, her desire warring with frustration when he deliberately left her shivering once again on that pinnacle.
Half dazed, trembling, passion’s heat firing along her skin, she watched him push to his feet and shrug his flannel shirt off followed by the t-shirt, revealing all those hard muscles that bunched as he moved. The snap of the button and the sound of the zipper seemed almost overly loud to her sensitive ears. Thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he shoved them down to his ankles, stepped out of them along with his socks, tossed them aside. When he straightened, her breath caught.
God, he was so perfect, all hard lines, bunched muscle, tall and strong, his shaft hard and curving up against his belly.
Feeling his gaze, she lifted her eyes to see him looking down at her.
His eyes were so hot, the desire for her stamped almost harshly on his face. That he found her desirable was no longer in question. Spread out before him as she was, she was naked, open, there for him to feast his eyes on much the same as he’d feasted on her secrets.
Lifting his hand to his mouth, he ripped the packet open she hadn’t even noticed him holding. Gripping that hard, thick shaft, he rolled the condom down the length before he took the step needed to bring him beside the bed.
“Jesus, Lis,” he breathed huskily. “You are so beautiful.”
A move, a shift, muscles bunching and flexing, and his hard body came over her, covering her, his skin so hot pressing to hers, muscular thighs sliding between her softer one’s.
There was no doubting the hard length like a thick brand between them, pressing urgently against her belly, just as there was no doubting the hunger with which Simon took her mouth.
He ravaged it, plundered deep, took everything she had, his hands cupping her cheeks so that she couldn’t turn from him.
Nothing would have done that. Elissa kissed him back desperately, wanting him, wanting everything he had, everything he was, wanting to taste him, feel him everywhere.
Coming up on one elbow, Simon looked down, lifting his hips slightly as he slid his hand between them, slid them once more between the now highly sensitized labia that he’d awoken with his ministrations.
Unerringly he found her opening, rubbing it with his finger, teasing the fragile, moist rim.
“Oh, don’t.” She almost sobbed it, grabbed his shoulders, pushed her hips into his hand, seeking so much more. “Do.”
“Don’t?” His laugh was low, darkly teasing. “Do?”
“Do.” Surging upward, she pressed her mouth to his, lightly bit his lip, looked him in the eyes. “Do it. Do me. Do me now.”
The hedonistic burn in his eyes was scorching, his smile so filled with wolfish heat that she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d bitten her in passion.
“Oh Lis,” he growled, “I am going to do you right -” His hips lifted, hard shaft sliding down her belly, over her mound and down further to where his finger rested against her opening, “- now.”
There was no niceties, no laziness, no easy entry. A flex of his hips and he drove inward, drove in deep, hard, fast, lodging high.
She couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry out, because in a lightning move he fisted his hand painlessly in her hair, held her still, captured her mouth and swallowed any sound she made.
Desire like lightening coursed through her, heart pounding, fire burning along her veins. Simon started pumping, hips surging, every pump hard and deliberate, the pace he set one that kept her shattering in tiny bursts.
He lifted from her, braced himself on his hands, those lean hips pinning hers in the bed beneath him. The flex of his biceps and triceps, the shift of the pectoral muscles in his chest attested to his strength, the big muscles in his thighs pushing against her inner thighs, the stark contrast between them just making her so very much aware of his greater strength, the fact that he could hurt her so easily.
But he didn’t. He controlled her, pushed her ruthlessly, pounded into her with a voracity that was so hungry, so downright carnal that she couldn’t help but fall into that hot tidal wave of ardour with him, meeting him thrust for thrust as much as she could, pushing her hips against his, rewarded by the gleam of satisfaction that filled the hot depths of his eyes as he looked down at her.
Their gazes locked, and even in the midst of the pure rut they were in, the hunger for each other, the heat and slide of their bodies just pushing their ardour higher, hotter, she knew he was seeing her, watching her, and God, he was gauging her reactions. In the dim reaches of her mind, she knew it. Felt him change position slightly when her breath caught, felt him repeat a movement that spiralled her nerves into delighted strings of fire, pound into her in that way that fanned the carnal fires flaring so hedonistically.
Whatever gave her pleasure he repeated. And whatever gave her pleasure, gave him pleasure in return, the flush on his cheekbones, the glitter in his eyes, the wicked, sensual tilt of his lips when she moaned his name and gripped his arms, her nails digging into his muscles.
It came upon her, crawled up her in fiery tongues, pin pricks of need that gouged deeper so erotically.
“Go with me,” Simon urged her huskily. “Fly with me, Lis. Fly. I won’t let you fall. Fly.”
A change of angle, one hard thrust, and he nailed her in that magical, hot spot that threw her out into a glittering space of light and glass, shattering into a million pieces, out of control as she spun away.
But even as she spun out, was thrown so far out she didn’t know if she’d ever find her way back - and certainly didn’t care - she felt the strong hips jerk against her, the shaft inside her tunnel deep, her name a hoarse shout that echoed in her ears, and then the brawny arms that surrounded her, tucked her close, the heavy weight of a broad chest as it ca
me down upon her.
Held safe in that powerful, protective embrace, she flew.
~*~
Simon liked to snuggle. Liked to curl up with a woman he’d made love to, cuddle her real close, and relax with her in his arms in an afterglow of sated, carnal bliss.
Elissa wasn’t going to cuddle. He could feel it as soon as she tensed beneath him. As he lifted his head to gaze down at her, those heavy eyelashes, which he now knew were completely natural, rose to show light brown eyes filled with, yep, the faint after-glow of great sex, but also a troubled light.
That troubled light he certainly didn’t like. And nope, he wasn’t really surprised. Nothing about Elissa was going to be easy.
Bracing his forearms each side of her head, he simply looked down at her.
Jesus, she felt good beneath him, all soft and sweet, that thick, blonde hair scattered over the pillow in wanton abandonment. Her lush lips were swollen from his kisses, her apple cheeks flushed from spent passion, her eyes - well, hell, the wary, slightly abashed expression in them was not good.
Seeking to put her at ease, he smiled slightly. “Hey.”
She swallowed but gamely kept her gaze trained on him. “This - this isn’t…” When he simply waited patiently, she whispered, “This isn’t right.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She glanced away, glanced back. “I don’t do this sort of thing.”
He waited.
“I don’t - I don’t have sex with men I’ve only known a couple of days.”
Somehow, he didn’t doubt it. “Okay.”
“I’ve only known you a couple of days.”
“I’m honoured, then.”
She looked away, suddenly restless, her knee bending.
The shift in position was a tantalizing reminder that he was still buried inside her, deep inside, and going by the catch of her breath she felt him, too.
Shit, he could feel himself getting hard once more. Damn, he could do it all again. Those big eyes looked up at him, the answering flare of heat in the brown depths, but then her bottom lip started to tremble, her eyes filling with tears.
Doused his flame like a bucket of water, made protectiveness surge upwards in its place. Framing her cheeks with his palms, he asked gently, “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She blinked. “I just - I need to get up.”
That didn’t sound like a good idea to him. “Talk to me.”
“No. Not here. Not like this.”
He glanced around the room, back down at her. “Sweetheart, this is as private as it gets.”
“Please.” A tear slipped free.
That tear almost undid him, the pure vulnerability of her expression. Tenderly, he wiped the tear away with his thumb. “It’s okay, Lis. It’s all okay.
She shook her head, another tear slipping free. Before he could wipe that away, she reached around his arm to dash it away with her fingers. “Please, Simon. Please. Not here.”
He could have argued it but no way did he want to push her on it, force her, not here in the bed where they’d shared something magical. But it was also the perfect place to share secrets. Still, he took another look at her face, the misery in her eyes, and he couldn’t argue.
Leaning down, he brushed a kiss on her damp cheek. “I have to clean up anyhow. You do what you have to do.”
She nodded.
With silent regret he rolled off her, just the sensation of sliding from her heat making his groin clench in anticipation. But mentally beating down the surge of lust, Simon pushed upright.
As soon as he did, Elissa sat up and grabbed the sheet, dragging it up and hugging it to her breasts with both hands, those thick, fair curls tumbling around her shoulders and down her back in wild abandon. If it wasn’t for her vulnerable expression he’d have thrown caution to the winds and jumped right back in the bed, taking her down with him.
But patience was something he was renowned for, and he pulled on it now, pushing his baser urges down. Reaching out to cup her chin, he bent and brushed a kiss on those soft, trembling lips. “I’m not going away.”
“I know.” The answer was unexpected.
Turning, he picked up his discarded clothes and strode across the room, conscious that she watched him every step of the way.
Part of him wondered if she’d run again, making him hurry as he divested himself of the condom, cleaned up and dressed. One thing he knew, if she ran she wasn’t getting away this time. He’d chase her all over town and beyond if he had to, because as he’d made love to her, sank deep inside her, had her wrapped around him, he knew that she meant more to him than just an attractive woman.
She’d meant more to him from the moment he’d met her on that balcony on that rainy night.
A peek into the bedroom showed the bed rumpled from their energetic lovemaking. Hoo boy, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he couldn’t wait to do it again, but he had her issues to take care of first.
Of Elissa there was no sign, so he padded down the hall in sock-clad feet. Entering the kitchen, he saw her standing on the other side of the kitchen bench popping the tab on a cold tin of Diet Coke. She’d pulled on a skirt and t-shirt, her hair hastily bundled into some kind of bun from which several long curls escaped to dance around her cheeks and neck. It wasn’t artfully done, it was plain hurriedness. It looked good on her, made him want to catch one of those long curls and twine it around his finger.
She met his gaze, cheeks flushing as she raised the tin to her lips, swallowing several mouthfuls quickly before lowering the tin. “Did you want a drink?”
Hmmm. He eyed her as he crossed to the ‘fridge. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Taking out a jug of iced coffee, he moved to her side, reaching down to get a glass from the cupboard.
Immediately she stepped backwards, walking to the middle of the kitchen where she stood holding the tin of Diet Coke for several seconds, uncertain what to do as he filled the glass. As soon as he’d finished, she walked out the back door.
Returning the jug to the ‘fridge, Simon picked up the glass and followed her. Seeing her standing at the rail, he came up beside her, turning to lean his back against the veranda post . Then he just waited.
She didn’t look at him, just placed the tin on the flat rail and sighed. “That shouldn’t have happened, Simon.”
“So you already informed me. In bed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? I’m not.”
“I kind of gathered that.” She picked at a non-existent splinter in the smooth rail.
The silence lengthened while he took leisurely sips of the iced coffee and looked out at the backyard. Tilly was tracking a bird way out of reach before she decided it was way too much effort and flopped in a patch of sun for a nap.
Returning his attention to Elissa, he studied her profile. Hmmm, should he prod her a little or let the silence continue? Was she going to reveal anything or decide to clam up?
Yeah, clamming up wasn’t happening now. So prodding it was. Start gentle? Start sudden?
How about start bluntly. “You cried after we made love.”
Her cheeks crimsoned, her gaze remaining on the rail as she smoothed her fingers over it. “It was just a little overwhelming.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes.” She glanced sideways at him. “It won’t happen again, so don’t worry about it.”
“The crying or the sex?”
Those apple cheeks were almost on fire. “Both.”
“Uh huh.” He swallowed the last of the iced coffee and set the glass on the rail. “News flash, Lis, I have no intention of it being the last time.”
That had her turning to look directly at him. “Why?”
Her response was unexpected, but he wasn’t going to lie. “Because I want you.”
“That’s a little blunt, don’t you think?”
Again unexpected. It was like her confidence was back, that was until h
e saw the vulnerability in her eyes, the emotional shutters not quite hiding it.
“I’m nothing if not direct.” Simon regarded her steadily. “What you see with me is what you get, Lis. I don’t hide anything. I tell the truth, and I’m straight down the line when it comes to someone I care about.”
Rather than look away, she looked searchingly at him before folding her arms. “I’m no one. I’m not like your friends who have their shit together. I’m not like you.”
“You’re forgetting one vital part,” Simon said.
“What?”
“I like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I like what I know so far. Let me know the rest of you.”
Her mouth twisted a little. “You may not like the rest of me.”
“You don’t have the right to decide that for me.”
With a sigh, she turned back to the rail.
“Talk to me, Lis. Tell me what’s wrong.”
At first he thought she was going to need more persuading, but then she said expressionlessly, “You’re complicated.” When he didn’t answer, she added, “I should say, you’re a complication.”
“Okay.” Personally, he thought he was a pretty uncomplicated bloke, but he’d hear her out.
Her hand tightened on the rail. “Actually, that’s wrong. I’m the complication you don’t need.”
Curiously, he angled his head to the side.
Shoulders slumping suddenly, she bent forward, leaning her forearms on the rail as she watched Tilly roll lazily in the sun.
Easily, unhurriedly, Simon moved up beside her, resting his own forearms on the rail, propping his socked foot on the bottom rail, his arm barely brushing hers though he was more than aware of the warmth of her skin, the fragrance of her hair, her faint, sweet, feminine scent.
Seconds ticked past, turned into minutes, and he could still feel the tension in her. Motionless he waited, leaning lazily on the rail, not forcing her with words but reminding her of his presence by simply being there beside her.
Finally she broke the silence. “I can’t let this turn into anything more.”
Fly with Me Page 23