Sophie had freckles. Delightful, sinful little things, delicately decorating the bridge of her nose and upper cheeks, a few on her shoulders—they drove him wild.
He had plain skin.
“Seriously, you don’t see these?” She lifted his arm and pushed it closer to his face.
A bark of laughter escaped him. “I see my skin. I’ve never thought about it as freckled, though.”
“Well.” She sighed, propping her chin in her hand. “To be fair, I’ve probably thought about your arms a whole lot more than you have.” The heat from her gaze sent ripples of pleasure right down to his crotch.
The wine was making her loose-lipped, and if she could admit how she felt about his arms, then he was going to fess up to his feelings about her freckles.
Wright scooted his chair closer, leaning toward her with both elbows on the table. “Do you want to know what I think about your freckles?”
“Probably not.” With a squeak of embarrassment, she buried her face in her hands.
“Good. Because I’m going to tell you. You remember a few summers ago we had the day off and I was over, visiting Dev?”
“Uh-huh.” She kept her face covered.
“We all went swimming, out to the floating dock, with a little cooler full of beers. Dev was still drinking then and he somehow managed to swim out there with a cooler and not drown. We sat around, swam a little, and drank a lot. I worked up a decent buzz, but . . . I can still picture it like it was yesterday. You had on this green bikini and I remember thinking no one had any right to look that good in a green bathing suit, but you did.”
Sophie peeked over the tips of her fingers. “I remember that suit.”
He could envision her, sun-kissed and snarky, and his cock twitched at the memory. “Yeah, so do I. Little strings tied it together, and I don’t know if it was because of the beer or too much sun, or because I hadn’t seen so much of you in a really long time, but . . .” He shook his head at the memory.
The night after that swim, he’d been riddled with guilt as guess who kept popping up while he got off in the shower. Fight though he might, nothing would do but to picture Sophie and that damned bikini, and he’d shot off like a rocket.
His mouth still went dry at the image.
He downed the last of his syrah. “I was obsessed with the freckles on your shoulders,” he confessed. “And the few you have right . . . here.” He touched the front of her blouse. “I couldn’t get them out of my mind. I wanted to touch you so bad.”
Sophie’s face went bright pink. “You did?”
“Of course I did. Then you dove into the water and I was like thank Christ because I was fighting a hard-on something awful. I jumped in the lake too, praying neither of you noticed.”
She shook her head, eyes wide.
“Sometimes now, I get all distracted, thinking about these freckles. Wanting to kiss your shoulders. Wondering what it’d be like to drag my mouth across your skin, into your cleavage.”
She placed both of her hands on his arm. “You . . . you like my freckles?”
He leaned in, his nose inches from her. “Oh yeah.”
Her breath came out shaky, and she licked her lips. “You know . . . you could do that now. If you wanted to.”
“Kiss each and every one of your freckles?”
She nodded.
“And put my hands on you.”
The nodding came faster.
He didn’t say a word until the waiter moved in his peripheral. “We’re going to need the chocolate and cabernet sent to a room,” Wright told him. “We’re staying the afternoon.”
Chapter 15
Sophie walked into the guest room like she was walking on clouds. Chateau Jolie had a completely different feel than Honeywilde. More opulent and formal, the guest room boasted thick drapes and rich bedding in cream and chocolate brown.
Wright closed the door behind them, setting their glasses of cabernet down on the dresser.
Sophie held a small tray of four chocolate-dipped strawberries and two chocolate truffles. Dessert meant to accentuate the flavor of the wine.
Reaching around her, he took the tray from her hands and set it next to the wine before pulling her into a kiss. He swept his tongue against hers and she leaned into him. The wine and Wright’s attention had her loose-limbed.
He kissed her until her mind swam with thoughts of what was to come.
No one here to bother them or care about what they might be doing.
She and Wright already had sex once, alleviating the nerves she’d carried with her about their first time together. He’d seen her naked, and she’d seen him. She could relax into the moment and think only of how it felt to be with him. What it might be like to do more.
Wright tucked her hair back, placing soft kisses along the shell of her ear. “We should at least try a sip of the last wine before we’re completely distracted.”
“Too late.”
He plucked one of the chocolate-covered strawberries from the tray. “Open up.”
She parted her lips and he slipped the tip of the fruit into her mouth. The chocolate was soft and sweet, the strawberry a burst of juicy tartness on her tongue.
“Mmm.” She fluttered her eyes closed.
She opened them to see Wright take the rest of the fruit into his mouth. As he chewed, he reached for one of the wine glasses.
“Here.” He put the glass to her lips, tilting until rich cabernet ran over her tongue and down her throat. Then he took a long sip, leaving a dark droplet on his lips.
Sophie rose up on her toes and licked it away. “I’m probably biased, but the cab is my favorite.”
He kissed her, long and unhurried, skating his lips across hers. “Mine too.” With another sweep of his tongue, he urged her lips open, slanting their mouths together. With the lightest touch, he caressed her sides before tucking her against him. He kissed his way to her throat, nibbling at her neck, small fireworks setting off all over her body.
He cupped her ass, humming appreciatively as he took her lips again.
Wright kissed her like they had all the time in the world, touched her lazy and slow, flicking one button of her blouse open and then the other.
“You know we have to get back before dinner,” she reminded him.
“Shhh.” He cupped her breast through her bra. “I’ll have you back on time. Stop worrying.”
A few more buttons and he had her blouse open and began sliding it down her arms.
As much as she’d enjoyed it, she wasn’t going to be the only one naked at the start again, at Wright’s delicious mercy again.
She eased away and tugged his shirt up, trying to get it over his head.
Wright let out a small laugh and helped her get his shirt off. Then she went to work on his pants.
He stepped out, toeing off his shoes in the process, only his boxers remaining. “We don’t have to be in any hurry. We’ve got hours.”
“I’m not in a hurry. I just want you undressed.”
A smile split his face.
Heaven help her. She took his hand and led him toward the bed. “Last time you wore clothes for entirely too long.”
He reached for the button of her capris. “Then let’s not make that same mistake again.”
She let him strip her of her pants, stepping out of her sandals and standing before him in her underwear.
Wright smoothed her hair back, touching her face, brushing his fingers down over her shoulders. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, before dropping a kiss on the freckles of her left shoulder.
Then he kissed his way across her right shoulder.
“These are the ones I was talking about before.” He pressed his lips to her collarbone, dragging his mouth down into her cleavage. “I love these. I was so caught up the other night, with you showing up at my door, I didn’t have time to give them the proper attention.”
Maybe not, but he’d paid plenty of attention to other things.
Exactly
as he promised, Wright began kissing every one of her freckles, across her cheeks, down her arms. Then he turned her around and kissed the freckles across her back, praising their beauty and hers. Her insides turned to liquid lightning, her sex aching for his touch, leaving her squirming where she stood.
His effect was so unfair.
She’d at least gotten him out of his clothes, but she was still the one trembling with need.
Then she turned around, a renewed intent to follow up on her plan, to find the front of his boxers damp, his erection impossible to ignore.
She ran her hand up the length of him, through the cotton, and he shuddered, arching his neck, eyes squeezed closed as he let out a shaky breath.
“See what you do to me?” His voice was raspy and rough.
Rather than answer, she pushed him onto the bed.
Wright sat and scooted back as she climbed up next to him.
Her plan was to turn have him pleading her name, the same way she’d begged the other night.
She eased the band of his boxers down, his cock springing free.
The other night was the first time she’d had sex in a while, and she’d done fine with that. At least, Wright seemed pretty damn pleased.
She brushed her fingers down his length, touching him the way he’d liked the other night. But after a few strokes, she leaned over, said a quick prayer that perfection wasn’t necessary, and wrapped her lips around the head.
Wright made a strangled noise, fisting his hands in the bedsheets.
She opened her mouth wider, taking him in, as he muttered a curse. Gently at first, she slid him in and out of her mouth, and Wright praised her. With her hand around him, she let him pop free from her lips, only to take him in again.
His stomach tightened. Both legs bent and straightened like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, and his grip on the sheets began pulling them from their neat corners.
He was falling apart.
A swell of pride grew at his reaction. She swirled her tongue around the head, investigating every ripple and ridge with the tip.
“Sophie.” His entire body tensed, muscles taut, releasing the sheets only to dig his fingers in again.
She hummed, swallowing him down. Using her hands, she stroked in time with her mouth, using his reactions as her guide.
Apparently, she was doing all right.
He arched his lower back, pushing farther into her mouth. She stroked him faster, pulling a guttural sound from his throat. He thrust into her mouth again, a little deeper.
Wright was . . . endowed, and she wasn’t expecting it. She gagged a little but eased back, using more of her hand.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
She kept sucking and working her hands but flashed a glance up at him. He had nothing to be sorry about.
Wright shuddered again, harder this time, and bit into his bottom lip. “Shit, don’t look at me like that.”
She released him with another pop. “Like what?”
“Like . . . that. With me in your mouth. I . . . it’s going to make me come before I want to.”
Her laugh came out lower than normal. Sultry, even to her ears.
Wright suddenly sat up, kissing her hard, his tongue tangling with hers. “I want to be inside you. Right now.”
Sophie nodded.
She slid off the bed and grabbed his wallet from his pants pocket. When he pulled out the condom, she took it from him. Pushing his shoulders back, she got him to lie back and rolled the condom on.
“Damn. You have any idea how hot you are? Especially right now.”
“Am I?”
“Hell yes.”
She tossed her head to the side, her hair swinging as she straddled his lap, her hands on his chest for balance.
“Now you’re just torturing me.”
“This isn’t torture.” She eased down his length, his cock filling her, stretching her in delightful ways. With her hands on his shoulders, she lowered herself until he was all the way in.
Wright’s pupils were wide, his gaze hungry. “You’re right. This is heaven.”
He looked at her like he’d devour her. And she would let him. Knowing now that Wright was capable of such a look, that he looked at her this way . . . she was empowered. Strong, but desperate for more.
Arching her lower back, she leaned forward, easing up and back down again.
He bit off a curse and moaned, placing his hands on her hips. “You feel so good, baby.”
Sophie did it again, easing up and back down his length, until she moved easily and tiny sparks of pleasure began to glow in her core. “So do you.”
With his hands on her hips, he helped the movement. Up and down, up and down. She arched and tilted her hips, making him wilder with every second.
He cupped her breast, flicking his thumb over her nipple before pinching it.
The sparks grew brighter, stronger.
“I love the way you bounce when you’re riding me.” He pinched the other nipple.
She squeezed around him, feeling reckless and dirty in the best possible way.
“You like this, don’t you? Being on top of me.”
She jerked her chin in a nod. Did she ever.
Wright, all long and strong beneath her, holding her hips but letting her lead, letting her do whatever she wanted and loving it.
“I knew you would. Me too.” He lifted his hips in counterpoint to hers, thrusting into her harder, a little deeper. “You can go faster. You know you want to.”
Sophie rocked on top of him faster, using the leverage of his movement. With every deep thrust, he hit something inside her that made her brain short-circuit, her nerve endings buzzing like live wires.
She was fire and light and brightness. Unrecognizable and wonderful.
Sophie dug her nails into his chest, her hips pounding against his as he filled her over and over and over again.
She was lost to it. Her need for him, the things Wright made her feel, the person she could be with him.
He groaned again, his grip on her hips tightening. “You’re perfect like this. Go on, baby, take it.”
The light inside her exploded, a thumping in her ears like a bass drum and a shower of a thousand stars in her eyes as she came.
Wright cried out with his orgasm, pulsing within her. Still gripping him, her legs clamped around his hips, his cock deep inside her, she spun apart, and it was glorious. She let herself spin, letting go, until all she knew was this feeling, and how it felt to share this with him.
* * *
Sophie lay sprawled, half across him, her face pressed to his skin.
The image of her above him, her hands on his chest as she rode him to climax, would be forever inked onto his brain.
He’d never forget. Didn’t want to. The most provocative thing he’d ever seen, and he played it over and over, in awe that the reality was his.
Time floated by and he drifted deeper and deeper into sleep, sated, with Sophie in his arms.
When she finally stirred, he lifted one eyelid about a millimeter, to find her peeking up at him, her chin on his chest.
“Hey, baby.” He grinned.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. We’ve got another hour or so. We can nap if you want.”
She laid her head back down. “Ohhh, I love naps.”
And she rarely got them. Whether it was because she felt she didn’t have time or they were too self-serving, Sophie didn’t allow for something as indulgent as napping. Unless she conked out on a car ride.
She rubbed his chest, her eyes sleepy and her gaze warm. Her fingers passed over the red marks on his skin.
“Did I do that?” She sat up and inspected them.
Little half-moon red marks dotted his chest. Exactly the size and shape of her nails, if they were to, say, claw into him.
“Yep.”
“I . . . I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He tugged her back down, grinning. He’d dreamt o
f her marking him like this. “You didn’t break the skin, and I think it’s hot.”
“Not hot if you have to wear a bathing suit.”
With a shrug, he tried to get her nestled into the nook of his arm. “I don’t think I’ll be wearing a bathing suit in the next few days, but I’d be willing to make the sacrifice if so. Knowing I can turn you into a wild woman is worth the price.”
She nudged him, giggling as she settled back down.
He meant what he said, though.
The way sex overtook her today was wild and new. Seemed it was wild and new for her too. Neither of them were blushing virgins. They’d even talked about one or two of their experiences before, but he got the feeling Sophie never . . . let go.
She was enthusiastic, but far from reckless. With brothers who ranged from too cautious to foolhardy, she was the balance in between. The middle ground that kept everyone from going to their extremes. And he wasn’t sure how much, if at all, her family recognized that.
He’d realized it years ago, and even then, when she was fresh out of college, taking on a lion’s share of responsibility at Honeywilde, he wished she’d cut loose from time to time. Act like the kid she was.
But she hardly had the chance.
A few times, he’d argued with Dev about not helping out enough and Sophie picking up his slack. Before Dev got his shit together, she always covered for him. Everyone knew it, and one day, Wright had had enough.
He’d chewed Dev out until his voice was raw, knowing Sophie wouldn’t speak up for herself, so he was going to do it.
People weren’t off the mark, accusing Wright of being too protective of Sophie. He always had been, but sometimes she needed someone to push back for her, even against her brothers.
Sure, she’d get her feathers ruffled and snap at people, but to really push back, hard, stand her ground and flat out say no, without eventually caving in . . . that wasn’t Sophie.
Nowadays her brothers had their act together and didn’t lean on her quite so hard. Which afforded things like slipping off to a winery with him.
Wright threaded his fingers through the red and gold waves of her hair, smoothing his hand over her back.
Sophie had no problem stepping up to him. She’d done it in the parking lot of the Tavern when she thought he wasn’t defending her, in the kitchen when she told him they were not going to sneak around, and pretty much any time she disagreed with his opinion on anything.
A Taste of Temptation Page 15