by Ella Brooke
Celia felt strange as she returned to her own tiny apartment. Everything felt brighter, new. It was as if the world had changed, but she knew that wasn’t it. She was the one who had changed instead, and when her phone chimed gently, she knew why.
I can’t stop thinking of you, James’s text said, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
***
Celia realized she was in love the day James had to break a date.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, some four weeks after they met. “I need to take this call, and it’s not one I can avoid, not really.”If Celia were honest with herself, she had only the vaguest idea what James did for a living. She knew that it paid well enough for him to do mostly as he liked, and that sometimes it involved long calls to London and occasionally Beijing. She sighed.
“Oh, well, I was looking forward to dinner,” she said, “but I understand.”
That night, however, it occurred to her that she could bring him dinner instead. Celia felt distinctly nervous as she drove to Eastwick’s small casual Italian restaurant, picking up a few dishes that she thought James would like. The whole time she drove over to his elegant hotel, she thought about chickening out. He was probably too busy for her, likely he would be irritated that she showed up without notice. She practiced saying ‘oh, no big deal, I’ll just head home,’ in her head all the way up the elevator.
However, nothing could have prepared her for the way that James’s eyes lit up when he saw her at his door with the food in hand.
“I didn’t expect you,” he said, letting her in immediately. “Is this for me?”
“It is,” she said, ignoring the way her belly rumbled. “I just wanted to make sure that you got some food even if we weren’t eating together, and I can just take off.”
“No,” he said, hurriedly checking his watch. “No, please stay. I can take the call in the bedroom. It’ll take maybe two hours, but after that I would love to eat with you.”
She agreed happily, curling up on his couch with her bare feet tucked under her. In the other room, she could hear his low voice, and the Italian food, tucked into his suite’s oven to stay warm, was delicious.
He acted, she thought, as if no one had ever brought him food before, and that thought made Celia ache a little. She didn’t like to think of him working alone here, hungry enough to get something fast and dull when he was done.
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, James was spreading the food out on the small coffee table, bringing out some plates and silverware.
“It’s not as nice as a restaurant,” James apologized, “but there’s not much open this late.”
Celia laughed a little, sitting up. “It’s fine,” she said. “I mean, most nights I’m eating noodles out of a Styrofoam cup. You don’t have to take me to a nice restaurant every time we’re together. I’m glad I could bring you something good.”
The smile that James gave her wasn’t one of his usual roguish grins. Instead, there was something almost shy about it, and she felt as if her heart squeezed slightly in her chest.
I want to be so kind to him, she thought. I love him.
It was not the revelation it might have been. She had felt it before. Every moment that she spent with James, she could feel herself falling towards him. She felt something warm whenever she met those blue eyes, and her blush had no embarrassment in it when he touched her hand or her cheek.
Sitting on the couch in his hotel, however, the remains of a chicken al fredo and a pasta e fagoli between them, Celia realized that her feelings were not lust, or even infatuation. It was love.
That was why the next night, when he walked her to her door, she latched her small fists in his shirt, clinging to him as he kissed her.
“Celia?” he whispered, pulling back to look into her eyes.
“Come in,” she said, her voice reedy and unsteady. “I want you to come in.”
“All right,” James said, and there was a hesitation to his voice she had never heard before.
Celia pushed her own trepidation aside, drawing him into her apartment. It was the first time he had been inside it, and he looked around curiously. As he did so, she could see with new eyes how shabby it was, how very different it was from everything he was likely used to.
“I’m sorry it’s not finer,” Celia whispered, and James turned that bright smile on her.
“It’s yours, and that’s all that matters,” he said. “What would you like to do now?”
Celia stared at him for a moment, her heart sinking in her chest. Wasn’t he interested in...? “Well, I rather thought you might have some ideas,” she said hopefully, but James still didn’t take the hint. He prowled her apartment like some kind of large cat, solemnly taking in the way she lived. Celia felt as if she wanted to fall through a crack in the floor when he came to stand a few feet away from her.
“This is new,” James said presently, and she felt herself flinch a little.
“I guess it is,” she nodded.
James sighed a little, and she cringed. Was she being ridiculous? Maybe he had wanted to before, but that was simply because he hadn’t known her that well. Were things different now that she did know him? Had he decided that she was simply too ridiculous to deal with.
“Celia... tell me what you want?”
She was blushing so badly that she was on the verge of telling him that she didn’t want anything, that she only wanted to be alone now. The only thing that kept her from saying that was the thin waver in his voice, the slight hint that he was not in fact in control of himself. He stood back from her as if he were almost afraid of her, and the idea that he might be nervous too helped.
“I... I can’t...” she stuttered, and James reached for her before pulling back abruptly.
“You’re putting me in a very strange situation here,” he said, and there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice.
“Am I?”
“You are. Do you remember what you told me the first time we spent some time together? Because I do. I remember very well. You said you didn’t want to sleep with me. I liked that. Do you know why?”
“Not at all. I honestly thought that that might make you hate me or something.”
James chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I might have been a little sad that that was your answer,” he said. “The truth was that I liked it. I like a woman who can say no to me. That’s because when she says yes, it means that she really means it.”
“Saying yes...” Celia said, understanding what he meant and what he was asking of her. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt as if the words were dammed up behind some terrible wall. James stepped a little closer to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, feel the slight rustle of air when he moved into her space.
“I want you to tell me what you want, Celia,” James murmured compellingly. “You said no loud and clear so that I could hear you. Now I want you to say yes in the exact same way.”
Celia thought she would die from the heat that had flooded her face.
“I can’t... I can’t...” she said, her voice little more than a squeak.
“I think you can,” James murmured, tilting her face up with a gentle touch to her chin. “I do believe that you can do anything that you put your mind to. I have complete faith in you.”
She started to say that that was probably misplaced when he leaned down to kiss her. There was nothing rushed or hurried about this kiss. Instead it was soft and tender, skating over her lips as if he had all the time in the world. The only places he touched her were her lips and her cheek, where his fingers skated over her face.
Celia knew that he was waiting for an answer, but she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the kiss he was giving her. This man, this man who was still so new to her, was awakening her to parts of herself that she had never known existed before. It felt as if warmth was coursing through every part of her, wrapping her heart up tight, tying her into knots as she groane
d with need for him.
When James pulled back, Celia made a wounded sound. James chuckled, but she could sense the same fire in him that burned in her own core.
“Say it,” he murmured thickly. “I want you to tell me what you want, Celia.”
“I want you to kiss me again,” she whispered, aware that her eyes were large and longing.
She was afraid that James might tease her for such a simple request, but instead he purred with pleasure.
“That is an excellent start, my darling little one,” he said just before his lips slid over hers again. There was a darkness to this kiss that hadn’t been there before. It was as if she had uncovered a hunger in him that he had carefully been keeping from her. She could sense the need in his body that made her own cry out, and instinctively, she shaped herself to him, her curves to his angles.
James broke the kiss with a deep groan, his hands landing on her shoulders and holding her back slightly.
“God above, woman. Do you know what you do to me?”
“Your accent,” she murmured, slightly dazed. “Why does it get so much thicker when we kiss?”
“Because a single kiss from you could make a monk lose his focus,” James said shortly. “Celia, you’re killing me.”
She looked at him aghast, wondering for a moment if she was truly just that bad. He saw her fear, and he immediately gathered her into his arms, nuzzling the top of her head sweetly.
“Poor little one. I promise I won’t tease any longer. Please—tell me what you want.”
She shivered as he started to run his hands tantalizingly up and down her back, his mouth finding the sensitive points of her neck. He might not be willing to go farther, but he made the most of what he was willing to do, driving her crazy with his gentle touches, his whispered words and his careful teasing. Finally, Celia found the courage to speak what they both wanted, what she wondered if she had wanted ever since she had laid eyes on this man.
“I want you,” she murmured, not daring to look him in the eyes.
The noise that James made shook her to the core. It was a sound that spoke of need, and if she had heard it without knowing James, she would have been frightened. There was something darkly primitive about it, something that made her think of wild days when people were driven by their primal instincts.
James swept her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and he carried her to the alcove that held her bed. She had a moment to be grateful that she had just changed her sheets the night before before he laid her down on it, climbing half on top of her.
She had barely caught her breath when James stole it again, kissing her with a wildness she had only seen hints of before. She knew he had always enjoyed kissing her before, but this was barely short of a frenzy. Instead of being afraid, however, she raised her face to his, her hands groping delicately along his shoulders. She could feel how powerful he was, how tough and strong. She gloried in his male body, and when he reached down to pull her shirt over her head, she squirmed a little to help him. Her sandals and skirt followed, and then she was in her panties and her bra; an unmatched set in faded colors more than three years old. When she would have gone to cover herself, James chuckled.
“Here, let me take care of that.”
The bra he unfastened with skilled fingers, tossing over the edge of the bed. She thought he would simply slide her panties down her legs, but instead he simply grabbed the fabric and pulled, tearing them off of her completely. The sudden sharp motion took her breath away, and James looked down on her with a grin.
“I’ll buy you another pair,” he murmured. “Perhaps ones without little flowers on them.” Before she could blush all over again, this time about how silly her underwear was, James was over her again, kissing her with a barely restrained violence that called to her. Now his hands were roaming all over her body with a covetousness that stopped just short of ownership, and she could not deny that there was a part of her that welcomed it. He shaped her nipples to aching sweet points, and then he dropped his mouth to them, suckling greedily, she groaned with need for this man.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” she panted, and James laughed, a deep throaty sound that made her body buck against his.
“Oh darling, this is just the start of it.”
He started to touch her, his hands sliding over her round thighs to the core of her, but Celia surprised them both by touching his shoulder.
“Please,” she stuttered, “can I see you, too?”
James froze for a moment, and then with a soft sound of need, he rose from the bed. She felt the loss of his presence for a moment, but then she was enthralled by watching him strip off his clothing. He was a handsome and arresting man when clothed. When James was naked, there was something brutally beautiful about him. His body was all lean muscle dusted with dark hair, so different from her own that she knew she needed to touch it.
Finally, Celia let her eyes drop down to his waist, where his cock jutted from his body aggressively. Biting her lip, she reached for it, and when she finally found the courage to wrap her fingers around it, James groaned, thrusting lightly into her hand. She was fascinated by the feel of this most elemental part of him. The skin over the iron hardness was soft, a bead of liquid at the tip.
“I want...” She choked on the words, a hot blush coming up to her cheeks.
James’s hand stroked over her cheek, both loving and commanding. “I’m yours, do what you want with me.”
She threw her hesitation to the winds, acted on an ancient instinct that came from somewhere deep inside. She leaned forward and flicked the tip of her tongue over James’s cock, relishing the hot skin and salty sea taste of him.
The effect on James was immediate and powerful. His entire frame shuddered, and when she looked up in surprise, his eyes were dark.
“God, what you do to me, beautiful girl,” he crooned, and he bore her down to the bed. This time it was different. This time they were both naked, and she groaned at the feeling of his bare skin sliding over hers, making her groan with pleasure. She wanted nothing more than to feel him, everything he was, his entire body, and that was before his hand came down between her legs, spreading them wide. She resisted for only a moment, and then her reluctance melted away when he leaned in for another kiss.
“So beautiful,” he crooned. “Let me make you feel so good, pretty one.”
She threw her head back against the pillow, groaning out loud as James’s fingers slid over her humid skin. They were strong and skilled, drawing a sweet dampness from her channel. He drew that dampness up to the apex of her folds, finding the knot of sensation hidden there. He circled her clit with a knowing touch, using the warmth and pressure of his body to hold her still as he touched her, arousing her beyond anything she had ever felt before.
From deep within her, Celia could feel a sweet tension twisting through the very core of her being. Something inside her was tightening up, making her shudder. She dug her fingers into James’s shoulders as she stuttered her need. James, his body covered with a fine sheen of sweat, seemed to know exactly what she needed. He moved over her, murmuring softly comforting words, telling her over and over again that it was all right, that it was meant to feel good.
“Just let go, my darling, let go, I’ll catch you.”
In the end it was his words as much as anything else that compelled her lie back, her eyes fluttering shut as her body seemed to sweep up into a dangerously hot pleasure.
“Oh! Oh my God!” she cried, and her entire being convulsed with a kind of fiery climax she had never experienced before. It seemed to go on forever, racking her over and over again with a pleasure that felt as if it was changing her on some elemental level, as if she was being molded directly from the heat into something new and wonderful and strange.When Celia’s body finally stopped shaking, she gazed up at James with eyes that were just short of awed.
“Are you all right?” he asked huskily, and she nodded. She would have answered him, but her throat
felt far too raw to reply. Instead, she only looked up at him with wide dark eyes, hoping that he would understand what it was she was trying to say.
He did.With a soft noise of need, he came over her, his weight pressing her softly into the mattress. Celia caught her breath at the power of his body over hers, but there was absolutely no fear in her at all. Instead, all she could think was how good it was, how very delicious he felt over her. There was a need deep inside her that had not subsided even with her climax, and instinctively, Celia knew that James was the only one who could give her the release she craved.
He hovered over her briefly, his pale eyes locked with her dark ones. In that moment, it felt as if they were bonded in a very specific way. It felt as if a part of her soul had flown into him, found a home there.
“Are you sure?” James asked, his voice deep and hoarse. “I want you, but...”
“If you are sure, I am,” Celia murmured. She reached up to lay her soft hands on his shoulders, and he groaned. She knew that she could not move him if he did not want to be moved, but in that moment, she was the one with all the power, the one who ruled over all. The control she had over him was intoxicating, but in that moment, they both very much wanted the exact same thing.
“Take me,” she murmured. “Please. You are what I want most. You are what I need.”
“God, when you say that, I can’t stop,” James ground out, and he knelt between her legs.
Even as sure as she was, she could feel a slight tremor of fear when she could truly sense how much bigger he was than she was herself, how he could destroy her if he wished to do so. Then he was kissing her again, and she whimpered with need, every fear forgotten.
Celia could feel the blunt tip of his manhood pressed against her, and then with a swift and powerful thrust, he was lodged fully inside her. She uttered one sharp cry as she felt a single moment of pain, and then he was moving above her. All of the pain was forgotten in the tide of pleasure that flowed over her, and she could feel her body responding to his, rolling forward, up and over as he showed her how very good she could truly feel.