by Bonnie Pega
“Oh. Well, I suppose you could try the flowers and candy if you wanted to.”
“Why? I’ve got you now.”
Caitlin’s face became serious. “Max, I don’t know if this is going to change anything between us. I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship. But even more than that, I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m not the right woman for you.”
“Let me decide that for myself, sweet Cait.”
A sudden thought occurred to her, and Caitlin again tried to stand, this time succeeding. She stepped back a pace or two, needing some room. “Max, if you have any ideas about me being some sort of reclamation project, then you can just forget—”
“Caitlin!” Max shot to his feet, anger and hurt warring in his expression. He stood breathing hard for a moment, like a bull deciding whether or not to charge. Finally, he gave a deep sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets. His voice was surprisingly mild when he said, “If you think I’m seeing you as my Boy Scout project of the week, then perhaps I need to enlighten you as to my real feelings.” He took a step closer to her, then another, his blue eyes gleaming.
Sapphire? Indigo? Turquoise? Caitlin was mesmerized by his eyes as he moved even closer.
“Now, let’s see,” Max mused as he threaded the fingers of one hand through her tousled curls. “I need to find a way to convince you that my interest in you is purely personal and has nothing to do with pity or sympathy.” He brought up the other hand to cradle the side of her face. “I wonder what I could do to convince you?” he said as his gaze dropped to her lips.
“Max.” She had to tell him that she didn’t want this right now. It was too soon after reliving the old memories. She had to tell him. She would. Later.
He bent his head and his lips slid over hers with the smoothness of satin against satin. He entreated, he teased, he compelled, and she could no more keep herself from responding than she could keep herself from breathing. It felt right. It felt good. It felt perfect.
His tongue played over her lips, asking but not demanding entrance. And she supplied it, her lips parted beneath his gentle persuasion. Her hands wound through his thick hair, pulling him closer.
Max reveled in her response to him. His kiss grew more insistent as his fingers moved over her back, then moved around front.
The weight of her breasts filled his hands, and he savored the feel of the soft, pliant mounds. He wanted more, so much more, but she gave an inarticulate moan that reminded him that Caitlin had already taken one giant step. He would not ask her to take another just yet.
With iron will he brought his raging desire under control. His hands slid to her waist and he pulled back just far enough so that she could see the desire still flaring in his eyes. “Just so you’ll know,” he said, his voice husky with suppressed passion, “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Don’t ever doubt that. But the next move is yours, my sweet Cait.”
Nine
* * *
Caitlin couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, his beautiful eyes. She could feel his gaze as strongly as if he were actually touching her. Her head told her to pull away, but her body longed to go back into his embrace.
Her breasts felt heavy and swollen, and she knew that only the touch of his hands would ease the ache. Her mouth felt bereft, and only the touch of his lips would assuage the hunger. “Max,” she said. Just one word, but it contained a wealth of longing.
The husky timbre of her voice slid over his heated flesh like velvet and it brought every nerve ending to throbbing life. Max had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. The choice had to be hers. He could feel her indecision and forced himself to stand still even though he was sure his whole body radiated the force of his desperate need.
Please come to me, sweet Cait, he thought over and over as if his thoughts could somehow make it happen. His heart pounded when she swayed closer to him, then took that one step that brought them together.
“Max?”
In her face he saw a curious and moving mixture of longing and fear. Instead of pulling her into his arms the way he wanted to, he took both her hands and cradled them in his.
“Caitie,” he said tenderly.
“I’m afraid,” she admitted, so quietly that Max had to strain to hear it.
Silence fell, a hazy, sensual silence. “Of making love with me?” he finally asked.
Caitlin nodded. “Yes. And of not making love with you.”
His eyes bored into hers and his breath quickened. “Which are you the most afraid of, sweet Cait?”
Her cheeks flushed enchantingly, but her gaze never left his. “Of not making love with you.” She leaned her head forward, resting it on his chest. “Please help me, Max.”
Awed by the gift she was offering him, he brought his hands up to cradle her face. “Caitlin, I will never do anything to hurt you. I promise.”
His mind searched desperately for anything he could say to reassure her. And then, with an intuition born of love and need, he knew. This time had to be as different from her first time as it could be. “All you ever have to say is stop and I’ll stop, Caitlin. I promise. Believe me.”
She nodded and waited for him to kiss her. But he didn’t. He stood there looking at her with a mixed expression on his face—quizzical, tender, intense, and patient. Caitlin’s heart turned over. He was waiting for her to make the first move. But she didn’t know if she could.
Caitlin tried to coax herself and still couldn’t make herself reach out to him. Finally, Max gently took her right hand. He lifted it to his lips, pressed a kiss on the back of it, then brought it to the knot in his tie.
A tremulous smile lit her face as she slowly loosened the tie. When she pulled it off, she was rewarded by Max’s sharply indrawn breath. But he remained still.
Her forehead creased in thought. So that’s the way it was going to be, was it? Her fingers toyed with the top button of his shirt, then opened it. Max’s back stiffened. She undid the second and third buttons. Max’s hands clenched at his sides. After the fourth button her fingers slipped inside and caught in silky golden brown curls. Beads of sweat broke out on Max’s forehead, and his hands moved to cover hers.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked hoarsely.
“I’m seducing you, I think. Am I doing it right?”
“You seduce me just by breathing, but yeah, you could teach a class in it.”
“Really?”
“Really.” His voice was little more than a groan. “Ah, Caitie, kiss me. More than anything, I need you to kiss me.”
Slowly, her hands urged his head down. Their lips met, hers hesitant and seeking, his sure and gently. Hers parted beneath his, but he didn’t move in, he simply waited, his mouth warm and hungry, but passive.
Caitlin felt a sharp stab of impatience and she thought of how long it had been since she had wanted anything this much. If she ever had. And now she was going to have to take control to get it.
Heady excitement shot through her. She felt exhilarated. She felt powerful. Powerful? She paused, suddenly understanding what Max was doing. He was letting her take control. A wave of tenderness swept over her, giving her the strength she hadn’t been able to find before.
She stood on tiptoe to fit her body more intimately to his. The tip of her tongue teased the corners of his mouth before making little forays inside, inviting him to follow suit.
Max’s breath caught in his throat and his hands swept slowly down her back, then up again to thread through her silky curls, curls that always seemed bedroom-tousled.
He slanted his mouth over hers with an urgency held firmly in check. He intended to keep it in check even if it killed him. And the way his need for her burned through his veins like acid, he felt as if it just might.
Caitlin felt his hands toying with the bottom of her sweater, his fingers darting beneath it to run lightly over her waist. But the teasing wasn’t enough. It did nothing to fill the longing that raged within her. Pull
ing away slightly, she took his hands, then slowly urged them upward, drawing the sweater with them.
He continued to draw the sweater up and over her head, tossing it aside. The lace of her bra was a sensual barrier to his exploring fingers as they found and caressed her creamy mounds. Her gasp of pleasure told him without words that she wanted more, and he reached gentle fingers behind her to unhook the clasp of her bra.
Her gasp, this time, was one of surprise, and Max felt her hands clutch his shoulders. He paused in his explorations to lavish caresses on her face. He ran his fingers down her cheeks and across her lips, following with his lips.
Only when her grip eased and she began to urge him closer did he let his hands touch her soft breasts. Rosy nipples hardened immediately, inviting him to taste. “So beautiful,” Max murmured against her skin, “you’re so beautiful.” He took one swollen nipple, then the other, into his mouth and bathed each with his tongue.
“Max,” Caitlin whimpered, feeling her knees begin to buckle with delicious weakness.
“Do you want more?” Max’s voice enveloped her, a whisper that promised untold pleasures.
“Yes, oh, yes.”
Max held out his hand, a smile of tender yearning on his face. “Then take my hand, sweet Cait, and lead me to bed.”
Caitlin took him up the stairs, then paused in the hall. “Which room is yours?” When Max indicated his answer, Caitlin led him inside, stopping next to the bed. Her heart pounded with anticipation as she stroked his chest, the golden-brown curls tickling her fingers. She slid his shirt from his shoulders, gratified at the low moan that issued from his throat.
His muscles tense beneath her touch, Max stood still, letting her dictate what would happen next. Caitlin’s hands, more sure than they had been a few minutes before, moved to the buckle of his belt. As she undid it, she felt a tremor run through his body matching the one that ran through hers. “Touch me, Max,” she breathed.
His eyes held hers in a gaze so intense she could feel its heat as he unbuttoned her skirt. He slid the garment, her half slip, and pantyhose down in one sweeping movement, leaving her clad only in panties. At the cool air that wafted over her, she stirred apprehensively and looked down, but Max reached out one hand to tilt her chin back up. “Look at me, Cait. Don’t stop looking at me.”
She whispered, “I feel … I feel so vulnerable.”
“I know, sweet Cait. I know.” He quickly removed his trousers and briefs and stood before her, his eyes still holding hers. “See? I’m as vulnerable as you now. More, because you can hide how you feel. I can’t.” He reached out and took her hands, bringing them to his chest.
“Touch me, Caitie,” he pleaded softly. “Touch me and see what your touch does to me.”
She spread her hands over his chest, haltingly tentatively. When his muscles jerked beneath her fingers and Caitlin felt the rapid pounding of his heart, her caresses became more certain.
“Dear God!” Max groaned, and Caitlin felt him shudder. “Let me love you, sweet Cait. I need you more than I need my next breath.”
At those words Caitlin very gently pushed him until he sat down on the edge of the bed. She moved next to him and threaded her fingers through his silky brown hair. She urged his head down to hers, parting her lips immediately beneath his. Her caresses became even more insistent, more daring.
It wasn’t until she lightly feathered her fingers across his arousal that Max took the initiative. His tongue plunging deep into her mouth, he urged her back until she lay on the bed. Then his hands staked their own claim on her body. Every time Caitlin’s eyes fluttered closed, Max made her open them and look at him.
When his mouth paid sweet homage to her breasts, he watched her brown eyes grow soft and hazy. When his seeking fingers removed her panties and discovered the womanly secrets between her thighs, he saw her eyes widen with pleasure at his touch. And when he used his lips and hands to bring her to the brink of fulfillment, he watched her eyes darken to almost black.
He left her side to reach for something on the nightstand, and Caitlin murmured with disappointment at the unwanted distance between them. He pulled her back into his arms and she shifted against him, trying to get closer still.
But when he began to press inside her, Caitlin shut her eyes tightly and stiffened. “Caitlin,” Max said hoarsely, “open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart. It’s only me and I’ll never hurt you. You know that. I’ll never hurt you. I want only to love you, Caitie. Let me in, sweetheart. Let me in.”
Gradually the tenseness left her and she began to relax. Only then did Max enter her fully. His breathing harsh and heavy, he lay still for a moment, to regain what little of his control remained and to give her a chance to get accustomed to him. He felt as if a sacred charge had been given to him: to erase all the bad memories and replace them with ones of gentleness and love and passion. When she shifted her body beneath him, he moved against her, whispering sweet words and reassurances all the while.
He kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that stole her breath away and gave it back again. His hands touched and fondled whatever they could reach, as if they couldn’t get enough of her. The warmth that was stealing through her body grew hotter with each of his strokes until she thought she’d burst into flames.
“Max?” She clutched his shoulders with her hands.
“Yes, sweetheart. Let go. I’ll catch you.”
When she finally found release moments later, tears ran down her cheeks at the sheer beauty of it, and she spoke Max’s name over and over.
Max then released the steel grip on his control and tumbled headlong into pleasure. He arched his back and cried out her name before collapsing on her, his face buried in her neck.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings, he lay still, catching his breath, and reveling in the way their bodies felt pressed together. He realized that the only time he felt right, complete, was when they were together, as if each were one half of a whole.
Without releasing her he rolled to one side and levered himself up on one elbow. He needed to look at her face but was afraid of what he’d see. When he saw the silvery tears on her cheeks, his stomach knotted. But the look in her eyes was soft and warm and hazy with satisfaction.
“Thank you for making it beautiful,” she said softly.
Max pressed a sweet kiss on her lips. “We made it beautiful, sweetheart, not me. And just so you’ll know, I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Neither have I.” When a smile spread over his face, she said, “A conquering-hero smile if I ever saw one.”
“Really?” He nuzzled the side of her neck, tasting the saltiness of her skin.
“Mm-hmm,” she turned her head slightly, affording him better access. “Definitely.”
“I’ve always fancied myself a hero type.” His smile became less victorious and more possessive as his hand settled over the softness of her breast.
Caitlin said breathlessly, “Fighting dragons and all that?”
His smile faded, replaced by a look of intensity. “I’ll fight all the dragons I have to, Caitie, because I’ve just discovered that the princess in the castle tower is worth all the battles.” He bent his head to run his tongue around one rosy nipple.
“Ah, is, ah, that a dragon you’re after?”
She could feel another smile curve his lips. “I think so. Shh, now, let me see if I can catch the rascal.” He made a few more swirls with his tongue before lightly nipping at her with his teeth. “There, I think I’ve caught him.” He grinned.
“I don’t know. I think he’s getting away.” Her eyes shone with amusement.
Max was enchanted by this playful side of Caitlin. He hoped to see more of it. A lot more. “I’ll just have to stop him, won’t I?” With that, he captured one tight bud between his lips, sucking gently.
Her breath escaped in an audible sigh. “Yes, I definitely think you’ve got him this time.”
“Not yet. I won’t be satisfied till I’ve taken the ca
stle by storm.” His fingers slid underneath her to cup her smooth bottom, while his lips continued to nibble at her breast.
“Max?” she breathed.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Be careful that the dragon doesn’t spring a surprise attack on you.”
“Surprise attack?”
“Yes. Like this.” With unexpected strength and agility she pushed him onto his back. “You see, sometimes the dragon fights back.” She flicked her tongue across his tight nipple. His body jerked in response and his eyes opened wide at the look on Caitlin’s face. It was so supremely, so powerfully female that it took his breath away.
Caitlin felt alive, more alive than she’d felt in seven years. She felt young and strong and feminine, and gloried in those feelings. She didn’t know if she could find the words to tell Max how she felt, but she could do everything in her power to show him. She lowered her head to his, her eyes gleaming.
While her lips busily seduced his, her hands discovered Max’s hard, lean body. It was a perfect complement to her softer one, and she found pleasure in running her hands over the taut cords of muscle in his shoulders and chest. Her fingers tangled in the silky gold-brown curls that dusted his chest, then swept across each flat brown nipple.
When Max groaned she felt the sound reverberate through her. She moved one questing hand lower, and Max quivered. A feeling of pure pride shot through her that she could do this to him, that she could bring him to the same fever pitch of need that he’d brought her to.
“Caitlin,” he said again.
“Tell me what you want, Maximillian.” Her voice was a throaty purr.
“Make love to me, sweetheart.”
“I will. Show me what to do.”
Dizzy with need, Max hurriedly rolled on another condom, then guided her on top of him, groaning again when she sheathed herself around him. He was captivated by her smile—the smile of a wanton, of an angel. He would give his life to keep that smile on her face, Max thought before the fog of pleasure eclipsed everything but the driving necessity to find the ecstasy only she could give.