by Sabrina York
As if that wasn’t enough, she stroked, cupped his balls, rolling them gently, smearing them with syrup.
That was what did it.
The thought, the vision, the fantasy of her tongue lapping at his balls, combined with the incredible sensations she was drawing in him, combined with the way her finger tickled one very sensitive spot down there—right where it counted—combined with the fact that he hadn’t come in nearly a month…
He exploded.
It was a rapturous release, flooding through him in a torrent, rushing, screaming, howling relief and pleasure. Hot, jetting passion.
She took it all. Took it all in, and then lapped up the bits she’d missed, swirled as it was with chocolate.
He collapsed in on himself. Unable to move, to think, to react as she gently undid her dirty work.
He was still panting, groaning insensibly, when she unlocked the handcuffs.
As soon as he could move, think, function, he yanked her into his arms and kissed her. Not a sweet, adoring kiss as he had pressed on her earlier, but a feral, hungry, forceful kiss, laced with vicious need.
He wanted to fuck her. Claim her. Take her. But he was drained.
Not too quiescent though. Not so drained that a little maggot could not crawl into his brain and nest. He pulled back and frowned at her.
She set her palm on his cheek. The dampness told him he now had a chocolate handprint there.
“Ash? What’s wrong? Didn’t you like that?”
“Oh, I liked it, all right.”
She blinked at his vehemence. “Then why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“They why are you frowning?”
“Where did you learn that?”
Her brow knit. “What do you mean?”
“That,” he flapped a hand toward the chair.
Emily paled. “I… Was it bad? Did I do something wrong? I should have known…” Tears welled in her enormous eyes. Ash’s gut clenched. He pulled her back into his arms and cradled her.
“Oh, no. No. It wasn’t bad, honey. No. Don’t cry. It was…hell, it was awesome. It’s just… Not very many women are that…creative.”
“Creative?”
“Adventurous.”
“Adventurous?” She cringed.
Shit.
“Experienced.”
“Experienced?” She pulled back to frown at him.
Her expression sent a shiver of disquiet shimmying down his spine. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever…” She colored. “You know.”
He gaped at her. “What? What did you say?”
“Which part?”
“I’m the only…” The only man. Her only. Ever?
“Yes, Ash.” She tipped her head. “I thought you knew. I mean, when it’s a woman’s first time, doesn’t a guy just know?”
He snorted a laugh. “The only thing a guy just knows is that it’s a time. But shit. If I’d known…I would have made it better.”
“It was fine.”
“Shit.” He slapped his forehead. She’d said that, hadn’t she? Please be gentle? He hadn’t made the connection. He was a moron.
“Ash. It was wonderful.” She smiled at him and he became tangled in the web of her beauty, her innocence.
Something swelled and prickled in his chest. His heart, perhaps, coming back to life. The tender ache surprised him.
He was the only man she’d ever been with.
This perfect, darling, tantalizing creature dressed in black lace and heels and smeared with chocolate. She’d tied him up. And sucked him off. And damn. He wanted her.
He wanted her forever.
As incomprehensible as it was, his cock rose again.
“I want to make love to you,” he said, kicking off his slacks.
She took a step back. “But I’m covered in chocolate.”
“Perfect.” A growl. “I want to make love to you in the shower.”
He eased the strap of her bra off her shoulder and then the other, slowly revealing her. He stroked her breasts, thumbed her nipples and pinched them gently. Arousal rocketed through him.
“Strip,” he muttered.
She quivered as she complied, kicking off her shoes and her stockings, the garter belt and her panties. Her bra. They all fell on the floor, forgotten. He stripped as well and met her in a full-bodied hug.
Heaven.
Holding her was heaven.
He skimmed his palm down her back, from her nape to the gentle curve of her bottom, then sank his fingers in deep. She sighed and wriggled against him. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” she whispered.
“Let’s.” But he had to kiss her first. Consume her.
She tasted like chocolate and Emily and sweet perfection.
He tightened his hold as heat rose between them. Deepened the kiss.
A soft thud and a faint clicking sound registered on his brain, but he didn’t bother thinking about what it could be until something cold and wet touched his bare ass.
He squealed like a little girl and leaped back, grabbing a fuzzy pink pillow from the armchair to cover his naked crotch. He shot his gaze around the room and froze.
A herd of velociraptors regarded him curiously, heads cocked to the side.
No.
Not velociraptors.
Dogs.
And cats.
A lot of cats.
And kittens.
“Oh dear,” Emily murmured. “They got out.”
“Out?” he croaked.
She nodded and pulled on her dress and began collecting cats. “I put them in the spare bedroom while we were having dinner.” She shot him a naughty grin. “Chocolate isn’t good for dogs.”
“I…ah…right.” He followed her lead and pulled on his slacks. He felt too vulnerable, naked amidst her menagerie, with dogs eyeing him as though he were a flank steak.
“I should have known better. Li Shang is something of an escape artist.” She carried a bundle of kittens to the spare bedroom and set them on the bed, but before she could close the door, two of the kittens scampered out. When she headed for the older cats, they hissed at her and slunk off into the shadows.
A three-legged dog snatched up one of his Ferragamos and danced around the room, dodging back and forth to avoid Ash’s lunging grasp. A diminutive Yorkie, shaved bald in odd spots on his body, leaped up on the table and began licking the chocolate bottle.
“Oh, no!” Emily squealed. She dropped the cats she’d collected and ran to the table, snatched up the bottle and frowned at the Yorkie. “No no, Prince Phillip. This is not for dogs. It’s for grownups.”
And suddenly, Ash couldn’t help it.
As frustrated as he was, as horny as he was, this was pretty damn funny. He burst out in peals of laughter.
Emily stared at him. Her lips twitched. Then curved. Then a giggle escaped. And a laugh. And a howl.
They laughed until tears streamed down their faces and laughed even harder when a couple of the dogs started playing tug of war with Emily’s garter belt.
After she put the chocolate away, they sat together on the sofa, surrounded by fur balls, entrenched in tribbles. Just sat there. Together.
He tried to kiss her a couple times, but Beast, who was apparently very jealous, got it in his mind to join the party. Beast liked to French kiss and he didn’t care whose mouth he got into.
That made them laugh too.
And it occurred to Ash, he hadn’t laughed this hard in—he couldn’t remember when.
He did finally get her into the bedroom. He had to bribe the dogs with the leftover roast and then stealthily sneak her back there when none of the cats were looking. But he did it.
And he made love to her, worshipped her. Explored and delighted every inch of her soft, sweet skin.
Before he levered over her and eased his aching cock home, he made it a point to bring her to orgasm, screaming orgasm, at least three times.
That he counted.
He woke her up to pleasure in the middle of the night, tormented her until she was writhing, groaning, gripping his hair. That orgasm was glorious…for both of them.
He would seduce her the next morning too, he vowed as sleep claimed him. But Li Shang escaped sometime in the night and released his fellow prisoners. When Ash awoke, it was to find the bed covered with snoring critters, lounging hither and yon. He cuddled Emily closer and smiled.
There was always the shower.
The cats probably wouldn’t follow them in there.
Chapter Sixteen
The day of the big luau dawned bright and sunny, but Ash was in a dismal mood. He and Emily had come to the Island two days early to make all the final arrangements for their big event and had the extreme misfortune of running into her friends Drew Boone, Jamie Cook and Kaitlin Stringer on the ferry.
She’d invited them all to help with the fund-raiser so he should have expected them to be there.
What he hadn’t expected was their assumption, nay, their insistence, that Emily stay at their place.
He’d loved the past few weeks, loved every minute of it, working with Emily on the coming fete. Working on something that mattered. In addition to pulling all the pieces together in record time, they’d had dinner each night, a plethora of coffee dates—with chaperones—and gone fishing together. Holt and Parker and Kaitlin had tagged along on that trip, but it had been fun nonetheless. And the excursion had gone a long way toward making peace with Holt. Fishing was legendary for male bonding.
Ash and Emily had even spent a bit of time in his studio, playing with glass. And contrary to her opinion, she did not make silly little art. Her pieces were damn beautiful. His favorite was the one they’d done together. Island Sunrise, an exquisite panel featuring their island.
Aside from all that, they’d enjoyed mind-blowing sex. And sleepy early morning sex and quick down and dirty sex. Ash had gotten used to waking up with her by his side. Kissing her good morning. Being the first thing she saw when she opened those beautiful clear blue eyes.
He’d even gotten used to sharing a bed with butt sniffers. Sort of.
The thought of sleeping alone palled.
So it was kind of annoying when they ran into her friends.
And said friends insisted she stay the weekend with them.
Though their house was next door, and it wasn’t so very far away, it was too far by half.
To make matters worse, Drew had assumed the role of Emily’s protector. Whenever Ash and Emily were together—setting up tables, carting supplies, coordinating the entertainment—Drew somehow magically appeared. And hovered. Clung. Like the third wheel he was. When Lane and Cam arrived to help out with the Friday night welcome dinner, he collected a couple more shadows.
Even though Emily had made it clear to them they’d worked things out, her friends weren’t convinced. They watched him like a hawk.
As a result, Ash wasn’t able to sneak so much as a kiss.
So when he awoke on Saturday, he was cranky.
He shuffled downstairs rubbing the sleep from his eyes and gratefully accepted a mug of steaming coffee from Parker, who had come to help with the event too. Ash hadn’t slept much last night, and not just because he missed Emily. All the foster boys were staying in his rec room and they’d been up until the wee hours causing a ruckus, despite the valiant efforts of their chaperones to get them to sleep.
Likely no one had gotten much sleep last night.
Parker clapped him on the back. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
“I…ah…” It was unlike Parker to stutter. That and his expression caught Ash’s attention.
“What’s up?”
Parker blushed. The scar on his neck went white. “I…ah…”
Ash chuckled. “You said that already.”
“Shit, Ash.” His friend scrubbed a palm over his broad face. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
“Thanks?”
“For doing this.”
Ash stilled as Parker’s meaning hit home. He nodded. “Sure thing.” He was doing this for Parker. And all the kids like Parker who, through no fault of their own, ended up in hell. They deserved better.
“You know I love you, man,” Ash said. His voice broke on the words. Words he rarely said. But he meant them. A lot.
“Yeah.” They shared a half-hug. A man hug. The way bros do. “I guess you’re not a total jerk.”
Ash grinned.
Thunder rose as a stampede of rambunctious boys—who apparently didn’t need any sleep to create utter havoc—pounded up the stairs from the basement and burst into the great room amidst whoops and hollers. For them, field trips like this rarely if ever happened. They were abuzz with excitement. Today there would be boating, swimming, games and, if things went well, mentors.
A mentor for each of these wayward souls.
Ash was determined to make it happen.
“Are you ready for this fresh hell?” he asked.
Parker snorted. “Bring it on, baby. Bring it on.”
Ash drew in a deep breath and gazed out over the lawn. The luau was a huge success. Tiki torches burned along the beach and the smell of barbecue rode richly on the breeze. The evening was cool and clear. Stars sparkled in the sky and the sounds of music and laughter tangled with the low thrum of conversations.
All of the special guests Emily had invited had come, and they were enjoying the event to the utmost. As Emily had planned, they’d all had a day filled with fun, interacting with the foster kids, playing balloon volleyball, competing in sack races and battling out a tug-of-war in the sand.
The kids had all been on their best behavior—there had only been one “accidental” fire—and it seemed as though most of them had found a mentor. Now they sat around in clumps, feasting to the gills, groups of wealthy socialites and business people, each chatting with one or two of the foster kids. Bonding.
He glanced at Parker, sitting against a pine on the tree line talking to a young boy. From their expressions, Ash knew his friend was sharing his story. Parker rarely talked about his past. And for good reason. But how powerful would it be for a kid who had been through similar horrors, to discover that a different kind of life, a successful life, was possible?
And how rewarding was it to be a part of making this happen?
A funny lump lodged in Ash’s throat.
He loved this, he realized. Loved doing something that made a difference.
He’d taken on this fund-raiser as an excuse to spend time with Emily, never expecting this.
That through his journey, he would discover his purpose.
“Hi there.”
A warm presence registered at his side. Without looking away from the panorama before him, he looped an arm around Emily’s shoulder and pulled her closer. Kissed her forehead.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“The event is a smash.”
“I knew it would be.”
“How could it not be? With you in charge?”
“It’s been fun, but I’ve missed you.”
He looked at her then, took in her adoring eyes, her bright smile. “I missed you too.” A whisper. God, she was beautiful.
She was everything.
A tender ache rose in his chest.
He loved her, this bright, beautiful spirit. He loved her so much it hurt.
The thought should frighten him.
It did not.
Instead, it filled him with a dizzying hope, a fierce satisfaction. Peace.
Had it only been six weeks since he’d met her on the beach? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Oh, look,” she cried. He tried not to be annoyed that something had stolen her attention. He followed her gaze and his heart swelled at the sight of Dad and Michelle making their way down the beach. Sam skipped long beside them, throwing rocks into the surf.
“They came,” he breathed. Dad was doing much better,
following doctor’s orders and slowing down at work. Though Ash had made it a point to invite them, they hadn’t known if they’d be able to make it out.
He and Emily strolled over to meet them and to his surprise, his father greeted her with a big hug. “Emily,” he boomed. “As always, an excellent event.”
“Thank you, Adam.” She dipped her chin to hide her blush.
“And Ash. Son.” Dad put out a hand and they shook. Then he pulled him into a hug. “I am so proud of you for doing this.”
It was Ash’s turn to blush. “It was all Emily’s idea,” he said.
“But Ash picked the charity,” she put in.
Dad winked. “It’s a damn good charity,” he said. “One of my favorites.” He sketched a wave at Parker, who waved back.
“Sorry we’re late. Michelle…wasn’t feeling well so we had to take the later ferry.”
Michelle laughed. “And then I got sick again on the ferry. All that heaving.”
Ash chuckled. “Must be rough seas. Emily got sick on the ferry too.” He glanced at her in time to see her flush and nibble her lip and he realized he probably shouldn’t have shared that. Her stomach had been bothering her lately and her nausea seemed to embarrass her. “Anyway. I am glad you’re here.”
“The event’s going beautifully.” Emily’s voice took on a businesslike tone. “We’ve had record donations and most of the kids have new mentors.” She smiled slyly. “But there may be a few more who could use a hand up…”
Adam chuckled. “Relentless as ever, aren’t you, Emily?”
She bit back a grin. “Yes.”
As Ash watched them interact, his suspicion solidified. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time they’d met. Which surprised him. “So…um… You two know each other?”
Emily patted Adam’s arm. “We’ve known each other my whole life.”
“Really?” How had he only just met her? He shot an accusing look at his dad.
“Emily’s father and I have been friends for years. You’ve met him, Ash.”
Ash blinked. “I have?”
“Caesar? Caesar Donahue?”
Caesar Donahue?
Caesar Donahue was Emily’s father? Shock, utter and complete shock, rocketed through him.