by Chris Taylor
Without thinking, she flicked at the tiny spot of moisture with her finger and was amazed by how soft and silky and warm the tip of his cock felt. With renewed enthusiasm, she continued to stroke.
Lane groaned again and opened his eyes. “I’m not sure I can take too much more of that, sweetheart.”
“You’re the one who wanted to show me…” She smiled, feeling incredibly powerful.
“I should have known you’d be a quick learner,” he growled.
Before she realized what was happening, he sat up and flipped her onto her back, his weight pinning her to the mattress. She yelped in surprise.
“Two can play at this game. Fair’s, fair, wouldn’t you say?” A wicked gleam flashed into his eyes. Zara wriggled against him, but to no avail. She sighed in defeat yet her body ached for his touch.
With a gentleness that almost stole her breath, Lane kissed his way down her chest. His tongue found a nipple and teased it, licking and swirling it into a hard nub. She gasped at the torrent of emotion and flung her head from side to side.
Just when she didn’t think she could stand any more of it, he switched to the other side. Fiery need kindled low in her belly. Her clit pulsed with pressure. She groaned.
“Do you like that, sweetheart?”
She moaned again, beyond words, almost unable to bear the sweet torment. And then, he moved lower. While her breasts ached for the return of his mouth, her belly tensed with every kiss that drew him closer to the center of her need. She tried to stop him, but he was having none of it.
“Lane, please. I don’t think you should—”
“Shh, it’s my turn, remember?”
She squirmed against him. “I haven’t… I mean—”
Lane stopped what he was doing and lifted his head, a smile of tenderness warming his face. “You’ve never had anyone go down on you before?”
Zara’s face burned. She’d never been more embarrassed. How could he treat this kind of stuff in such a cavalier way? Sex was never discussed in her household. She could only guess that in his household growing up with a slew of brothers, things had been a little more…open.
Ignoring her embarrassment, Lane leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her lips. “Relax and enjoy the ride,” he whispered.
Trying her best to do as he instructed, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed the tension from her limbs. It wasn’t long before the feel of his skillful tongue stroking her tender folds had her hips coming off the bed and her discomfort faded away. She clutched at the sheets, at his head, at anything within reach in order to survive the onslaught.
Never before had she been brought to the edge of such exquisite passion. She felt like she would explode if he didn’t cease. And yet, she loved every minute of it.
When he lifted his head and smiled at her, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Her body was taut with unreleased desire, her clit pulsed with need. He’d loved her with his mouth and his tongue and his fingers, but he halted before she climaxed. She was confused and suddenly very, very unsure.
Watching the emotions tracking across her face, Lane’s smile evaporated. He frowned. “Zara, what’s wrong? What did I do?”
She blushed for what seemed like the hundredth time. No matter how comfortable he was about referring to sex like he was discussing the weather, she was a long way from having such a casual attitude.
“I-I didn’t…” She stared at the mattress and tried to ignore her flaming cheeks and wished she was more experienced. Was it normal for it to be over and still feel so…restless?
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” Lane coaxed, his voice gentle. “What are you thinking?”
Zara drew in a deep breath and spoke again. “I… You know… I haven’t…”
Comprehension dawned in his voice. “Come?”
Heat exploded across her face. She sneaked a peek at him and saw the relief in his eyes. She offered him a brief nod.
Lane slid up her body, an intimate smile turning up the corners of his lips. He framed her face with his hands, his eyes warm on hers.
“Good, because I’m not finished, yet. Not by a long shot.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. “I want us to come together.”
She stared at him. Heat flared in the depths of his eyes, turning them molten. The hard length of him pressed against her. Flames licked the inside of her thighs and her belly tensed in anticipation.
His cock probed the soft folds between her legs. His gaze stayed locked on hers. Her legs fell apart of their own volition and her breath came in short pants.
He reached across the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand. With deft movements, he withdrew a condom and sheathed himself before settling back between her thighs. He nudged against her a second time until the very tip of his cock lay inside her. She gasped. He stared down at her, his eyes dark with emotion. The muscles in his arms strained. His chest expanded on an indrawn breath. His hips eased forward and his cock moved another inch further inside her.
She squirmed against the unfamiliar width of him and blinked against the stinging pain.
“Easy, sweetheart. Take it easy. It won’t hurt for long. Let me love you.”
She relaxed against him and he slid further inside her. Her heart thumped. The stinging sensation receded and she luxuriated in the feel of him stretching her wide to accommodate him. He moved forward again another inch and then another until he filled her and then he stilled. Dropping his head, he rested his forehead against hers and took a long, deep breath.
“You feel so good. So tight, so wet. So right.” The words were growled against her neck. Excitement pulsed in her center and radiated upward. She moved underneath him, silently conveying her growing need.
He lifted himself above her and moved, oh so slowly, against her. Inching out until he’d almost left her and then gliding in again in one smooth, silky movement until he was fully sheathed within her a second time. He shuddered against her and she reached up and tightened her arms around his neck.
“Love me, Lane,” she whispered, pressing her lips against his.
He growled low in his throat. “Does it still hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, it feels…wonderful.”
His eyes flared with emotion. His body tensed, arm muscles bunched and he plunged into her again. She opened her legs wider and then tightened them around his hips. His movements increased in pace and frenzy and she gloried in the feelings he created.
Her face was hot, sweat gathered across her chest. She lifted her hips to meet each thrust and clung to him, quietly urging him on.
His face tightened, his eyes glazed and yet still he thrust into her. Need spiraled hot and tight inside her and a yearning to find fulfilment began to grow. Her arms strained around him, her muscles aching in protest. She clung to him and rode the tumult of unfamiliar feelings that coursed through her, knowing that any moment she was going to reach the pinnacle and topple over into an abyss of relief.
Lane opened his eyes and stared down at her. Satisfaction flared in his eyes. He continued his rhythmic onslaught and moments later she cried out. Waves of pleasure radiated from deep inside her. When it was over, she couldn’t help but marvel at the feeling. Almost simultaneously, he groaned and thrust hard, once, twice, before collapsing against her in a wall of hard male flesh and overwhelming relief.
It was long moments later when he stirred against her and lifted his weight onto his arms. He looked down at her and smiled: a tender, loving look that turned her insides to jelly. Leaning forward, he kissed her.
“Now I know.”
She frowned up at him, trying to follow his train of thought. “Now you know what?”
“Now I know what it feels like.”
She stared at him and slowly recalled the words he’d spoken two days earlier. Comprehension dawned. Her eyes widened in surprise. “You mean…like how it feels when you…care?”
He nodded. “Just so you know, there’s no comparison.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Thursday, February 1, 6:58 a.m.
Lane pressed a kiss against the softness of Zara’s hair and pulled her in close beside him. She sighed softly and snuggled into his chest, still caught up in the sleep they’d both fallen into after their bout of lovemaking. Stretched out on his bed with her, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. All the years he’d vowed to remain single, to never risk inflicting upon another woman the kind of life his mother had suffered, he never knew what he’d been missing out on; he never knew what it felt like to be loved.
Two days earlier, Zara had told him she’d fallen in love with him. He only hoped it was still true. She’d asked him if he was willing to take the risk, if he cared enough about her to try. Now he knew the answer and his heart swelled with emotion at the thought of telling her.
Now, he could imagine a wife and family, if she was the one by his side. It was only because of her that he’d been able to conquer his fear about dying too soon and abandoning his family to their fate. Not that his fears had vanished, and they probably never would, but at least now, he was willing to try; to take a risk on life.
His chest tightened at the thought of a bunch of little girls and boys with their mother’s dark hair and midnight black eyes. His heart swelled at what could be and he yearned to ask the woman who lay asleep beside him if she would do him the honor of becoming his wife.
Zara.
She’d come into his life and turned his world upside down. But it felt so right. She was so right. He couldn’t wait to tell her.
* * *
Zara came awake slowly. The morning sunlight was brighter than it had been and there was no longer a need for the lamp. The air was cool around her, caressing her naked skin. Lane must have switched on the air-conditioning sometime after they’d made love.
Lane.
The feel of his steady heartbeat beneath her ear brought a smile of contentment to her lips. He’d been right. They had fit and gosh, it had been more than wonderful. She now knew why the romance books she’d consumed as a teenager had been filled with countless pages about the wonder and beauty of being loved. With Lane, it had been magical, beyond anything she had read or could have imagined. And the best part was he was still there, lying beside her, holding her close, protecting her.
He was her knight in shining armor, the slayer of evil, the righter of wrongs. He was Detective Senior Sergeant Lane Black and she’d fallen head-over-heels in love with him.
How could she have such strong feelings for a man she’d only just met? And under such awful circumstances? He’d been in her life less than a week—nowhere near enough time to be contemplating love. She was twenty-five years old. She wasn’t a giddy teenager who fell in and out of love as often as she changed her underwear.
Zara smiled and shook her head. She’d never been a giddy teenager. From the time she could remember, she’d worked and studied and worked harder, striving to reach her goal. From an early age, she’d dreamed of being a successful lawyer, of striding through the impressive doors of her father’s law firm and taking her position by his side.
Even when Allison had come onto the scene and, a little later, Brittany, Zara’s dream had never faltered. Her focus remained absolute. Her father might have sold his share of the law firm and gone into politics, but nothing could disrupt her single-minded determination to achieve the outcome she’d worked toward her entire life.
And it had happened. She had a promising career as a lawyer in one of Sydney’s most prestigious law firms. It hadn’t mattered that her father was no longer practising. Well, perhaps a little, but she refused to let his move into politics deter her from her goal. By the time she’d finished university, the offers of employment came rolling in. She had her pick of jobs. The fact that her career had taken precedence over her private life hadn’t seemed to matter. Until Lane.
Zara sighed softly and ran her hand lightly over the smooth, tanned skin of his chest. Her fingers encountered a slightly raised ridge of flesh that ran more than three inches across his bicep. She turned to look at the scar, a faint pink color in the light, and wondered at its cause.
Her fingers continued their exploration and tangled in the light smattering of dark hair that shadowed his chest, before skimming across the flat planes of his stomach. The muscles tensed beneath her touch.
Seconds later, Lane’s hand tightened over hers and stilled its movement. “Careful,” he growled against her ear. “If you keep that up, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Zara giggled, the joy of it bubbling up inside her and spilling out of her mouth. Lifting her face up to his, she pressed her lips against his mouth, loving the feel of his stubble as it scraped across her cheek.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, as her hand continued to make its way across his stomach. “Trust me, I’m a lawyer. I’m prepared to accept all liability.”
Lane grinned down at her. “As if I’d fall for that one. A lawyer willing to assume all liability is one I definitely wouldn’t trust. In fact—”
“Hey!” She pinched him on the arm. “I think I’ve heard enough.”
“You’re right.” He winked at her. “I know of much better things to do with my mouth than talk.”
A blush stole across her cheeks and she ducked her head to avoid his amused expression.
“You look so cute when you blush,” he whispered and tilted her face toward him.
Her heart thumped at the desire that burned in his gaze. Seconds later, his lips came down on hers, tasting, teasing, coaxing. She groaned from the onslaught of emotions that surged through her as she opened her mouth to his tongue.
His hand stole down to cup her breast and test its shape in his palm. His tongue stroked deep into her mouth and his thumb imitated the action against her nipple. Fire burned low in her belly. Need weighed heavily inside her. She moved against him, tugging at the sheets that were tangled around them. She needed to feel him, hot and hard and naked against her.
Lane broke off the kiss and gasped for breath. As if reading her mind, he rolled slightly and tore the sheet away from them. Taking her in his arms once again, he drew her flush against him.
Zara’s sigh of relief mingled with his. The press of their bodies fueled the fire that raged between them.
“Please, Lane. I need you. I need you inside me.” Zara blushed at her forwardness, but was beyond controlling the primeval urges inside her. Now that she knew how good it could be, her body was as desperate for his love as an addict for another hit.
He rolled her onto her back and quickly reached for a condom. Seconds later, his cock pressed against her, seeking entrance.
Zara thrust her hips upward in silent encouragement, urging him on. He stared down at her, his eyelids heavy with need.
“I’m going to explode if I don’t get inside you. I’ll try to take it slow. I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“I don’t want it slow. Please, Lane, I want you.”
With a low growl in the back of his throat, Lane surged into her. Her legs clung to his hips and she met his hard thrusts and silently begged for more. She stared at him, urging him on with her eyes and with the gasps of pleasure that were torn from her throat.
Desire built low in her belly and radiated upward. She clung to his shoulders and absorbed the weight of him on top of her. Her orgasm continued to build until it almost overwhelmed her. And then she was toppling over the edge, gasping and crying out, clinging to Lane while her body shuddered and finally was spent.
Taking his weight on his elbows, Lane grinned down at her. “So much better than talking, don’t you think?”
Zara smiled back at him. Lane shifted a little and she gasped at the feel of his hard cock still deep inside her. Bending his head, he suckled her nipple, tugging it into his mouth in time with the slow movement of his hips.
Despite her recent orgasm, Zara’s clit tingled. When Lane scraped her nipple with his teeth, she moaned.
“Y
ou like that, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice husky with need. She lowered her gaze and offered him a shy nod.
He directed his attention to her other breast and continued the rhythmic stroking with his cock. His movements had slowed and were deeper, more intense. She stared at him and tightened her legs around his hips and lifted to meet each long thrust. He tore his mouth from her breast and grasped her hips in both hands, holding them steady while he moved inside her.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned.
Zara clutched at the sheet beneath her, loving the feel of him inside her.
Lane picked up his pace and plunged into her again and again. Finally, his body tensed and his face stilled. Seconds later, he climaxed on a groan of relief.
A little while later, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. She sighed in contentment, even though a part of her niggled with dread at the thought of all that was still unsaid. They needed to discuss their future, or even if they were to have one. She couldn’t bear the thought of turning her back and walking away but the decision wasn’t hers to make. Only Lane could decide if he would choose her over his fear.
She turned over onto her back and noticed the strip of morning sunshine had gathered in strength. Another day had begun. Life went on. She didn’t want to think about work, but she needed to call her boss. He’d probably caught the gist of it on the news by now, but he deserved to hear it from her.
She thought again of everything she and Lane still had to speak about and wished for just an instant they could stay this way forever—wrapped up in each other’s arms, holding the world at bay. But it wasn’t realistic and if she was anything, it was a realist.
Moving out of Lane’s arms, she went to climb out of the bed. His arm snaked out and caught her around the waist and dragged her back close to his side.
“Hey,” she protested lightly. “I-I need to use the bathroom.” She looked away, embarrassed.
Lane levered himself up on one elbow and smiled at her. “Okay, but be quick about it. I want you back in here in less than…a minute.”