A Kiss in the Dark

by Lisa Fox

  She pushed back from him slightly. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Embarrassment quickly replaced any comfort she might have felt, and she fumbled to wipe away the evidence of her momentary weakness. “I don’t usually fall apart like that.”

  He just shook his head, then scooped her up into his arms. Her arms automatically wound around his neck, and she held on tight as he carried her down the hall. “You weren’t kidding about that carrying thing, huh?”

  He toed the bedroom door open and looked down into her eyes. “No, I wasn’t.”

  He laid her down in her bed and then sat down by her feet. He lifted her legs onto his lap and began unbuckling her sandals.

  “I’m not an invalid, Ryan.” She didn’t protest too hard though. She was liking the treatment. No one had touched her this tenderly for a long time.

  “I know.” He placed her shoe on the floor and then started on her other foot. “When I was eight years old, my father left,” he said, carefully working on the buckle. “Nothing dramatic or anything, just went off to work one day and never came back. My mother… She didn’t take it that well. She kind of broke.”

  Grace listened in silence, watching the side of his face, his head bowed over her feet. Even though he didn’t look at her, she felt the connection between them, the profoundness of the moment. This was probably something he never shared with anyone else—just like the tears she had cried earlier.

  “The next day, she wouldn’t get out of bed, didn’t go to work. She wouldn’t feed herself—wouldn’t do anything—just laid there and cried. I got myself to school and all day long, I prayed that she would be back to normal when I got back home.” He slipped the sandal off her foot, rested it beside the other one on her bedroom floor. “She wasn’t.”

  He caressed the back of her calf, his touch light and warm. “By dinnertime, I understood that I had to take care of her. There was nothing else to do. She wouldn’t function on her own. All I wanted to do was curl into her arms and cry too, but the time for that had long passed.” He glanced up at her, gave her a tight smile, then bowed his head again. “I know what it’s like to have to be strong all the time, Grace, to be the one that has to care for them, for everything to be backwards. I didn’t have anyone to cry with back then, but, honey, you can cry with me anytime you’d like.”

  She had to swallow back the lump in her throat before she could speak. His fingers were a solid, steady weight on her legs, the warmth of his caress chasing away her doubts, her embarrassment. With him, she was stronger, with him she was better, and with him maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone anymore, to shoulder the full weight of everything by herself. It was a scary thought, but one she might want to get accustomed to. She waited for him to meet her eyes, wishing once again that she could be as articulate in real life as she was in text. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “I should probably get back to Brooklyn now.”

  His hands were warm on her bare legs, his touch tender. Everything about him was gentle when he was around her, when he held her, but that was only one side of him. She’d seen his posture change when he’d spotted the looters, saw the remnants of the black eye he had from fighting, the scarred knuckles. She could feel the strength in his grip. She needed some of that strength tonight. She didn’t have any of her own left.

  She reached out and traced the outline of his sideburn with her fingertip. The short, dark hair tickled the pad of her finger. Her heart raced as her gaze dropped to his lips, the decision bubbling in her core. “Do you have to leave right away?”

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “No.”

  She leaned toward him, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth and then back again. He didn’t move, remained perfectly still, letting her come to him. She touched his face, soft stubble against her palm. His scent filled her head; clean, sexy man. Her lips brushed over his, the contact igniting sizzling heat in her veins.

  She felt him gasp when their lips met, a sharp inhalation that made her shiver. She pressed her lips to his, a closed-mouth kiss that sent tingles through every part of her. His fingers locked in her hair, and he cradled the back of her head as the kiss went on and on. They parted, then came back for more, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. When she finally opened for him, the electric shock of his tongue meeting hers made her quake.

  He took the kiss deeper, and she moaned into him, melting into his strong arms. She snuggled closer to explore the broad expanse of his back, the lean muscle beneath his shirt. The man was a wall of sleek, solid muscle. Her body stirred ferociously in response to him, his touch, his scent. The need arose in her to taste his warm skin, explore all the dips and contours of his lithe frame, submit to all his strength, and for once in her life totally succumb to her desires. His hands moved over her, up and down her back, her waist, finally cupping her breast in one hand. Craving buzzed down her spine, heating her blood.

  Their mouths met again and again, urgent, hungry. She reached under his shirt, his skin warm and smooth. She raked her fingernails over the small of his back and he bit down on her lower lip. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Every inch of him was pressed against her, and she was instantly and intimately aware that his chest wasn’t the only part of him that was rock-hard and hot. She shivered when he caressed her breast through her dress, his thumb flicking her nipple until she groaned with need. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and she rocked against him, begging for more.

  He broke the kiss with a ragged gasp and looked up into her eyes as he smoothed her hair off her face. “Are you sure you want to do this, Grace?” He ran his knuckles over her cheek. “We can wait.”

  She blinked and sat up, not liking this turn of conversation. “You want to wait?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “Definitely not.” His face softened. “But maybe… Are you sure? Tonight?”

  In that instant, Grace wanted him with a need so potent, it momentarily stunned her. She had never wanted any man this way. “Yes, Ryan. Tonight.”

  His full, sensual lips curved in a wicked grin. God, he was gorgeous. Simply stunning. “Well, you won’t hear any argument from me.”

  When he leaned in for another kiss, she knew she’d made the right decision.

  She lost herself in him, in his arms, in the gentle caress of his fingers on her spine. His muscles flexed under her hands, strong and sure and hard. He was by far the most powerful man she had ever been in bed with, and his strength was a little intimidating, but also wildly exciting. He kissed down to the hollow of her throat and gently licked there, his tongue teasing her hypersensitive skin. His hot breath on her neck sent a thousand chills along her nerve endings.

  She traced his jaw, a feathery caress that made him moan softly. Her throat was dry, her body aching for him. She needed this tonight. She needed him tonight. She lifted his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. His body was magnificent, every muscle defined, and she ran her fingers over his biceps, in awe of his beauty.

  His hands moved up her thighs, taking her dress up with them, his fingertips resting at the edge of her panties. She gasped as he kissed her, the anticipation of his touch electrifying. She rocked against the heat of him, the hardness of him, encouraging him to go further. His hand moved up and up, taking the dress with him, lifting it off her. A low sound escaped his throat when he unhooked her bra and her breasts spilled out into his hands.

  He looked up at her, his eyes dark in the dim room. “You are breathtaking.”

  She blushed, just like she always did, and he grinned. Before she could think, he flipped her over, and she laughed as she landed on her back on the bed. Nothing she had ever experienced compared to the arousing weight of him on her, the clean manly scent of him on her skin.

  He smiled down at her and ran his fingers down the center of her body. Her chest heaved as she struggled for air. Anticipation pounded her chest. He nuzzled her throat, teasing the skin around her tummy with lig
ht caresses. His short nails scraped over her belly button and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he dragged them down. Her muscles jumped and her hips bucked, silently willing him to go a little lower. His mischievous grin drove her wild. “Hmm,” he hummed against her throat, the vibrations of his deep voice pulsating right down to her core. “Is there something you want, sweetheart?”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. He was crazy. Her hand stroked down his chest, following the long line of soft, dark hair that bisected his amazing body. She lingered over his belt buckle, toying with the waistband of his jeans. “Yes,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “There is something I want.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath when she gave him a gentle squeeze that was so erotically gratifying she couldn’t help but gasp along with him. He was hot and hard in her hand, and huge, bigger than any man she had ever been with, and thought of him filling her was terrifyingly arousing. Oh yes, she wanted him very badly.

  “There’s something I want to do first,” he said, his voice husky. His lips hovered over hers, his breath on her cheek. She was shaking from the force of her desire. He held her gaze as his hand glided down over her mound. “I want to taste you.”

  Her body went liquid when his hand moved between her thighs. She was slick, hot, needy. He kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. The kiss was long and deep, entwining and tangling, and she was so caught up in him, she didn’t realize he’d slipped her panties off until the cool night air touched her hot, wet folds.

  He slid a finger along the length of her entrance and her heart galloped into warp speed. She panted as he trailed kisses down her throat and over the valley of her breasts. The faint brush of his fingertips over her most intimate core set her pulse thudding and bands of ravenous pleasure pulsated through her being. She ground against him, needing more pressure, and placed her hand over his to show him what she wanted. She writhed while he teased her, giving her everything she had asked for and more, driving her into a feverish need.

  She trembled from the tension, the craving, and she gasped when he moved down her body, parting her legs so that he could lie between them. His hot breath on her inner thigh set off a chain reaction of lust, and she had to press her lips together to keep from crying out from frustration and need. She moaned when his fingers gently opened her up, her wet desire aching for his touch. She was on the brink of screaming when he paused, met her gaze, and then dipped his head between her thighs.

  “Oh my God.” Her hips came up off the bed, the electric shock of his tongue sending bolts through her entire being.

  Heat snaked up her spine, lighting her skin on fire. Her fingers sank into his thick hair and she moved with him, a slave to the pace that he set. He devoured her, savored her, his clever tongue taking her to heights she never dreamed attainable. Excited pulses echoed through her body, a rhythm of the most urgent need. She bit back a piercing scream, when his palms slid under her ass, dragging her closer to his mouth, lips, tongue.

  She was completely at his mercy, and she surrendered to his touch, his inherent mastery. She writhed under him and he drove her crazy, making her pant from a pleasure that bordered on agony. His teeth nipped her flesh and goosebumps cascaded all over her skin. A strangled yelp escaped her lips when he pushed two fingers inside her, igniting sparks throughout her overloaded nervous system. Exquisite, unbearable need accompanied an intense rush of desire, and she gripped his hair harder. There was no way she could hold off even though she wanted to savor every lick and thrust. She had no control over her body’s reaction, and she rode out the spasms that overtook her with a deafening cry.

  He licked her even as she quaked, wringing out every last bit of pleasure. Her mind was blown, she thought she’d never be able to recover from the throbbing climax, and she had to push him away to make the agonizing pleasure end. It was simply too much. He kissed his way up her body, pausing to nuzzle her throat. His teeth clamped down on her neck, sending a shockwave of intense sensual pleasure all along her nerve endings. “I need a condom.” His voice trembled. “Please.”

  For one scary second, she didn’t think she had any. Oh please, God, she prayed as she rolled over in bed to open her nightstand drawer. She prayed some more as she riffled through the debris, tissues, pens, her vibrator. Ryan ran his hand down her back, took a fistful of her ass and gave it a nip. Oh no, she didn’t want to miss out on him tonight. Just when she thought hope was lost, she found a strip of three in the back corner. She pulled them out and held them up triumphantly.

  He took the packages from her and stood up to remove his jeans. His pants fell to the floor with a soft thump. He was all corded strength and naked beauty. His broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, his abs a tight and honed six-pack, his thighs muscled and hard. His cock jutted out from a thick, dark thatch of wiry hair. Grace licked her lips, craving him to her very core. She watched, fascinated, as he ripped one of the condoms open and rolled it on. He caught her looking and gave her a smug grin before jumping playfully on top of her. She squealed with absolute delight and welcomed him into her arms.

  He rested on his elbows above her and she looked up at him in total awe. He was so handsome, so sexy, and he wanted her. It was beyond comprehension. A surge of emotion overwhelmed her as he eased his body over hers and snuggled between her thighs. She stared into his eyes as he pushed inside, the pleasure overwhelming. She flexed beneath him, urging him in deeper. He kissed her face, her jaw, her mouth.

  “I want you so much,” he whispered, his voice raw against her lips.

  The words pierced her soul, vibrating right down to the very core of her existence. She met his gaze, saw the desire, the truth in their dark depths. This was more than just sex, more than anything she had ever felt with another human being. Emotion, desire, passion overloaded her system and her heart swelled in her chest. This was the connection she had always secretly yearned for, but never believed could be real. She looked away, embarrassed by the intensity of the moment. This couldn’t really be happening. She couldn’t really be seeing what she thought she saw in his eyes. She was probably delusional—or perhaps just plain crazy.

  He cupped her chin and brought her eyes back to his. “I feel it too.”

  She almost choked on the gasp that rose in her throat. She had never felt this way about anyone. He did crazy things to her. Crazy wonderful things. She pulled him closer, bringing him deeper inside her. A violent shudder racked her body, her muscles spasming around him, struggling to accommodate his unbelievable girth. Pain and pleasure met, merged and fed off one another, heightening her arousal. She moved her hips, wanting more, and he sunk in another incredible inch.

  “Grace.” He groaned. “Oh, God, you’re so good.”

  He moaned and went in a little deeper. She was enveloped in him, in his arms, his scent, his strength. His mouth hovered over hers, his breath was her breath. She looked up and saw that his eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched, and she could feel him trembling. He held his body rigid, as though he was holding back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Ryan, please,” she gasped, needing him to end the erotic torture and take her completely. Her sanity fled, leaving her aching, needy, intent on reaching the ultimate pleasure. She arched her hips, taking him deeper still, and she cried out his name when he pushed all the way inside.

  The entire length of him plunged into her, and her chest heaved, her thighs convulsed. She felt so full. So complete. He pulled back and thrust into her again. She screamed, biting down on his shoulder. The pleasure was torturous. It was never this good for her. Ever.

  He nuzzled her nose and licked her bottom lip. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and smiled down into her eyes. “Like that?”

  She squealed with delight and wrapped her whole body around his. She gripped his hair in her fists and gave him a tug. He laughed and took her harder, deeper. His fingers dug into her flesh, his body rocking along with hers.

  He braced himself o
ver her, his palms resting on either side of her, denting the mattress. He dipped his head, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, making her gasp. He overtook every single one of her senses, and she moaned into his mouth, arching off the bed to kiss him harder. He plunged into her again and again, taking her to the place where love and lust melded and merged. Became one. Ecstasy exploded behind her closed eyes, and she stretched for it, reached for it, every cell in her body needing to get there.

  He claimed her with every stroke, giving her more with every thrust, holding nothing back. “That’s my girl,” he whispered urgently. “Come hard for me, Grace. Come so hard for me…”

  And with a sobbing cry, she did.

  Above her, she faintly heard his hoarse shout and then he was groaning in her ear, a delightfully deep, throaty growl that made her hot all over again. He clung to her while he came, panting against her throat, his breath a hot caress all of its own. There was nothing on this earth like it and Grace thought she might do just about anything to feel it again, to hear him again, to be with him again.

  He fell back on the bed and they lay sprawled beside one another, spent and sated. She could hear his ragged breath and knew she was panting loudly as well. Her body was still shuddering from the aftershocks of her pleasure and she smiled up at the ceiling, completely at peace.

  Ryan rolled onto his side and took her into his arms. She snuggled against him, glowing from a sense of utter contentment. His hard body stretched out beside her, warm and firm. She traced patterns on his skin, exploring the contours of his muscles.

  “How did you get this?” she asked, her fingers tracing the scar above his right eyebrow.

  “Boxing. It was my second fight ever, back in Philly. A left-hander. He caught me by surprise. I got hit hard.”

  “And this?” she asked, stroking the faded scar on his collarbone.

  “I got that when I was fourteen, playing lacrosse. I got body checked by this huge guy on the other team. He took me down, and I landed right on my shoulder.”