John stepped across the threshold, clasping her hands in his. “Stay with me?”
Her thoughts scattered and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
He waited until Shayla could bring herself to look at him. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the connection between us.”
“I do, but—”
“Come with me.” John took a step back, gently tugging on her hands, beckoning her toward the hallway.
In a daze, she took a quick scan of her cami and panties barely covering her backside. Shayla reached for a white silk cover-up hanging on the back of the door.
John snatched the robe from her hands and tossed it onto her bed, shaking his head. “Please don’t put that on. You look absolutely breathtaking.”
His compliment made her heart swoon. She poked her head into the hall. “But—”
He pulled her into his arms and Shayla squealed in surprise at his powerful embrace. The rough texture of one of his palms traveling down the small of her back and cupping her exposed cheek made her gasp. His smile widened into a slow burn of desire, igniting a fire in her belly. Every fine hair on her body stood at attention.
She swallowed hard. “I can’t make any promises.”
Taking her hand, John led her down the hall to his room.
Standing at his door, John caressed her arms, pausing before turning the handle. “I understand your situation, Shay, but if I don’t ask, I will never forgive myself.”
“Ask?” The word caught on her dry lips.
With a wave of his arm, he invited her into his dimly lit room. The lights were dim and a candle flickered in the darkness next to a bottle of wine and two glasses. He shut the door behind them.
“I’m not asking for promises.” John spoke against her scalp, his solid chest pressed against her shoulder. As he brushed the hair from her shoulder, his hot breath tickled her ear. “I’m asking for a weekend.”
The tips of her breasts pulled taut as his arms closed around her from behind and he pressed his lips to a receptive dip in her neck.
“The weekend?” She trembled as his mouth trailed across her jaw.
He nodded, gathering the mass of hair at her nape, nibbling on a sensitive spot behind her ear, nuzzling into her temple. His thighs bracketed her hips, the feeling of his muscles maddening. She didn’t mean to compare, but couldn’t help notice the difference between John and Mat. John was bold and adventurous. Mat referred to himself as an ordinary missionary man. There wasn’t one ordinary quality about John Mathews.
“But everyone knows my situation.” She found herself insanely distracting by minty scent of his breath. “Our families.”
“This is between you and I, they don’t need to know. Yet.” He slowly spun her to face him. He pulled her close. “I understand your situation and I’m not trying to complicate things for you.”
She wobbled on her tiptoes as he anchored her to his solid frame.
“I have to know why you make me feel this way.”
Lifting her arms over his broad shoulders, she arched, molding her body to his with only a thin layer of cotton between them. The newness of his flavor and attentive style coiled in her tummy.
John brushed molten kisses of affection over her hair, cheeks and eyelids. He caressed the hollow of her throat, tracing her collarbone with his fingertips. A small moan of pleasure escaped her lips and she closed her eyes as John lowered his mouth to hers.
“Thank you.” He murmured cradling her face in his large hands, kissing her mouth gently and tenderly, one lip at a time.
“Thank you?” She asked, feeling his smile broadening beneath her lips.
“For taking that damn ring off.” He lifted her right hand, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. John squinted flashing her a full smile deepening the soft wrinkles near his eyes. “If I have my way, that ring will never see the light of day again.”
Shayla’s mouth turned to cotton and she swallowed hard. Something just didn’t seem right about the power lying in his words of highhanded assurance. The surety in his tone should’ve rang like warning bells hanging from the Greek cathedrals, but she found his dominance a complete turn on.
Heat gathered beneath her cami, making it damp. Shayla felt like she might spontaneously combust from the list of aches growing larger with every sweet kiss of his lips. This wasn’t simply a first kiss, it was a rich drugging kiss, filling every fiber of her being with desire.
Trembling with an undiscovered fury of passion, she clutched at his neck, opening without barriers, urging him to take more. The heat of their breath mingled as his tongue sank into her mouth, rooting deeper to find her soul. The pleasure of the slow marauding licks of his tongue brought pricks of wetness to the corner of her eyes.
John went still, gently grasping under her jaw with both hands and angling her face upward. Staring into her eyes, he searched intently for her response to their connection. “Stay with me?”
Giving in to temptation, she nodded.
Worry evaporated from his tense arms as they circled around her. He held her securely, learning the curves of her body with an unhurried exploration. The sensation and heat of his hands and mouth felt heavenly and she went weak with need. There would be no holding back with John, not one moment of insecurity or vulnerability. He unshackled the urge to act proper or genteel. She responded with ravenous needs of her own, dipping into his mouth with long, slow indecent licks and kisses. The silky friction and heat turned her kisses greedy as she plunged further, searching for more.
Shayla craved each intimate taste of this man. She molded herself to the terrain of his body, straining her hips upward to discover the hard pressure of his erection. Her fingers clung to the back of his neck for support, and she pushed higher onto her toes. She whimpered into his mouth as sensation built.
John broke from her passionate kiss and laid his chin on top her head, allowing his breathing to slow. A mock whisper tickled her ear. “Maybe we should have a glass of wine.”
Heat powered through her limbs. Shayla yanked at the hem of his shirt and he raised his arms, easing out of his shirt. She flushed. “I don’t want wine right now, John.”
Her palms glided across his fit shoulders. With utmost slowness, she ran her hands over his chest and drum tight stomach. The muted light cast a bronze glow to his skin, deepening every shadow of his physique. Lost in a daze of the magnificence of his body, she trailed kisses and bites over his chest and below. He remained still, tolerating her intimate exploration of his body, each sweet caress more inquisitive than the one before.
A low throaty laugh filled the quiet room. “Are you about done with your inspection?”
She shook her head with a grin, catching her lip between her teeth. She wanted her mouth on him, all of him, every inch. Dropping her hand to his waist, she traced his erection through the denim. He gave a soft grunt and she circled her palm over the bulge.
Using the back of her hand, she traced the satin-smooth skin of his midriff, slipping her fingers into the waist of his jeans. Her thumbs worked to unfasten the button and zipper. Shayla’s fingers trembled, reaching in his boxers, exploring the length of him. His abs flexed in response to her hand coasting down the silken heated flesh. His hips pumped forward and he held rigid. Sounds of deep-rooted pleasure reverberated from his throat as he allowed her to stroke him. She felt as if she were in a trance of fascination.
John grabbed her wrist, bringing the tender pale flesh to his lips. A smirk widened across his face at her unbridled haste. “You can have your way with me. I’ll give you whatever you want,” came a growl of promise.
His voice softened to a murmur, rambling off into a list of things he planned to do to her, words no man had ever said to her, words that would make her blush in the morning light, but right now they turned her on more than she cared to admit.
He stripped her of her top and tossed it to the floor, revealing her petite round breasts. He bent drawing a pink bud into the searing heat of his mouth.
Moving to the other, John kissed and sucked, circling her nipple with his tongue. He rolled the damp sensitive flesh gently between his finger and thumb until she moaned.
“It’s gonna be a long night. But,”—he hooked his thumbs through her white lace panties, dropping to his knees and shimmying them to her ankles—“I’ve wanted to taste you since the moment I sat next to you on the plane. You’re lucky I didn’t hoist you over my shoulder and drag you into the bathroom caveman style.”
“You can drag me wherever you want.” Raking her fingers through his thick dark hair, Shayla grasped his skull. Her head listed forward and her eyes closed. He rested his forehead above her trimmed tuft of dark hair. John pulled back and rose to his feet.
Her eyes flew open, pulse raging through her veins. “Wait. I wanted. I like…” she whimpered in protest.
A severe blush flooded over her, embarrassed for objecting.
A throaty laugh accompanied his haughty grin as he guided her backwards one step at a time. Her legs bumped against the mattress. “Oh, you’re going to like it. I just want you on your back.”
He wedged his knee between her legs, widening her stance as he leaned over her, taking her mouth with another insatiable kiss. Clasping the back of her head, he devoured her mouth with long slippery sweeps of his tongue, the pleasure of it maddening. His fingers threaded through her hair. Tearing his mouth from her lips, he buried them into her neck with a soft moan.
Shayla lowered onto the mound of white, luxurious bedding.
He scooted her to the middle of the bed. The dull light danced across his face. He smiled, descending with a trail of hot kisses down her throat to the sensitive slope of pale skin between her breasts. Her legs fell willingly to the side as he strayed from one breast to the other then below. “You’re so beautiful.”
John licked into her flesh, torturing her with small tiny flicks of his tongue.
She cried out softly as his breath laid a slick of hot steam over her pulsing clit.
He teased and taunted the engorged skin until she wriggled and panted. He purred with satisfaction, bringing her to a boil with just the tip of his tongue.
She clutched at his head, raising her hips off the bed, wanting more.
John pushed her flat. Grabbing her wrists from the sides of his face, he restrained them at her side. With one precise, deep vertical sweep of his tongue, she moaned out his name. He plunged deeper, nibbling and feasting off her, until her inner muscles began to spiral and clench involuntary.
Shayla wriggled a hand free from his grip, frantically grasping for a pillow. She held it to her face, crying into the fluffy billows as her body spasmed and twitched. She lifted from the bed. His tongue swirled over the explosion of wetness, catching every last twinge of release.
John pressed tender kisses everywhere with acute planning, climbing over the top of her. Brushing his hands along her strained limbs, he allowed her body to go slack.
Quivering with pleasure, she panted hoarsely beneath the pillow.
Resting on his elbow, he pulled back the pillow, peeking at her with a smoldering smile. “Feel good, Shay?”
“Yes.” She panted with a nod.
Full-blown arrogance curled at the corners of his lips. “Are you a screamer?”
A fevered rush ached through her trembling body. “Not normally.”
Her hands stole at the open waist of his jeans. Strung tight with pleasure, she craved more, tugging at the belt loops with her toes. She needed to feel him inside her. “Take these off,” she demanded in a voice sounding unlike her own.
John stood at the edge of the bed and undressed.
Shayla had never seen a man look so damned appealing. Reaching for his wallet, he dug for a condom. Holding the golden foil between his fingers, he warned apologetically, “I only have one.” He grinned with a squint. “We’ll have to be creative until tomorrow.”
She could barely hear anything over the blood rhythm pounding in her ears.
He chuckled tilting his head into her view. “Did you hear me?”
She blinked with a tiny nod. “Creative.”
John gently gripped her foot, coasting his hand up her leg and urging her onto her front.
Shayla flinched with a squeal when he playfully bit her cheek. She felt the moist heat coming in ragged breaths as he kissed and nibbled up her spine to her shoulder.
He laid on top her, molding his body to hers, resting his hard-on between her thighs.
“You feel so good.” She twisted, reaching around the back of his neck, tugging his mouth to hers. Hungry kisses made her whimper with need.
She couldn’t get close enough to him. This man could easily control her with his solid strength and power, yet she had never felt so unbelievably free. Free to be herself. Free to explore a sensual side of her that lay beneath the surface.
Shayla shoved at him until he rolled to his back. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she slid down his taut abs, one muscle at a time. She grabbed hold of his hard-sprung length, stroked out a slick bead of moisture and lowered her mouth to taste him, briefly, before lifting her head and wiggling her brows.
His body strained and he gripped the linens, letting a few swear words fly.
“We have all night, remember?” she toyed, enjoying his reaction and nodding toward the condom. “I think I have one of those in my necessity bag.”
She went down, taking as much as she could into the suction of her mouth.
He groaned within seconds. “Shit. Wait, stop. I can’t…”
Candidly, she smiled up at him, circling her tongue around the pulsing head.
A scowl wedged between his brows. He tugged at her, dragging her up his body so they lay eye-to-eye. “You have a necessity bag?”
“Yeah, necessities. Mostly girl stuff. Chapstick, floss, tamp—”
He grabbed her and a laugh of delight whooshed from her lungs as their bodies entwined, tumbling over the bed. John halted over the top of her, fumbling with the foil. He lowered onto his elbows, gently teasing, rubbing and stroking against her clit. Driven by voluptuous jolts of thunder, Shayla wiggled and strained, needing to feel him inside her. Hoarse from heavy breathing, she begged in a voice unlike her own. “Please. Now.”
John eased into her with a measured thrust, giving her time to adjust before burying himself inside her. She cradled his jaw, watching as his eyes turned cloudy with pleasure and color burnished high on his cheeks. He plunged deeper and she raised her knees, planting her feet on the mattress, surrounding him with tight lubricous reception. He impaled further, rooting out a tender spot that made her cry out his name.
John buried his face near her ear. “Say it, Shay. Say it again,” he murmured, his mouth skimmed over her throat.
Excitement climbed higher in her throat as he thrust in perfect stride. She jerked and clawed at the solid muscles on either side of his spine, burying her face in the crook of his arm, calling out his name.
He covered her mouth with his, taking in her cries of sheer bliss. Elevating to his palms, John collected each of her wrists, placing them one at a time above her head, plunging into her with tireless rhythm until her eyes rolled back. John continued, driving the momentum higher and higher. She jerked and spasmed in a kaleidoscope of colors, thrusting upward to greet him. She surrendered, giving into his powerful virility. Shayla shuddered again and again, peaking in multiples. With one last thrust, he quivered and groaned with his own release.
The sound of their raspy pants filled the space between them. Shocked by the slick of tears running from the edge of her eyes, she held him close, nuzzling into his chest.
John nipped at her chin, bushing kisses over her jaw, cheeks and eyelids. Clasping his hand at the side of her neck, he wiped away the wetness with his thumb, peering deep into her eyes. They remained that way for minutes, just staring affectionately at each other, allowing themselves to revel in the tender moment.
A small smiled curved at the corner of his mouth and Shayla smiled back.
“What?” she asked bashfully.
John kissed her nose. “Wonder Woman,” he teased, pulling her to her feet, directing her to the shower.
“Superman.” She giggled, glancing over her shoulder, letting her gaze drink in his delicious body.
He flipped the switch, illuminating the pristine bathroom with a soft glow. White marble ran its course throughout the bathroom and walk-in shower, bordered with intricate hand-blown blue glass tiles. He pulled on three levers, adjusting the temperature of the showerheads. John nodded, glancing around the pristine bathroom in astonishment. “This place is amazing.”
Shayla touched her fingers to the pale grey granite counter, tracing the rim of the white vessel sink. “This is his vacation home. His place in Malibu is even…more incredible.”
Curiosity drifted through her mind, imagining what John’s place would be like. The throbbing pulse in her neck ached and she wondered if she’d get to see it. She wouldn’t allow herself to indulge in too many questions about the future, fearing it’d ruin the moment.
John escorted her into the layers of steam and shut the glass door. He stood behind her, kissing the sensitive dip in her neck. “I don’t think anything could be more incredible than this.”
Tilting her head back onto his sleek chest, she allowed sheets of cascading hot water to stream over them. Turning into his arms, she draped her wrists over his shoulders, kissing him beneath the rain of water.
His bare form showed off a threatening and well-exercised strength, but he exuded a sense of power that made her feel safe.
He shampooed her hair and washed her body and she did the same to him. His hands roamed over her body, not missing a single spot. She found herself mesmerized by his glistening skin and the curve of each moving muscle.
“How much time do you spend at the gym?” The bemused question slipped out as if she were thinking out loud in awe.
A drone of a chuckle escaped his lungs as he bent, clasping hold of her foot then the other, giving them a thorough scrub. In a macho show of bravado, John flexed posing in several bodybuilding positions. “Not as much as you think. Most of it is genetics, but I do enjoy a good workout.”
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Page 40