by Quinn, Taryn
Across from the door, huge windows framed the space. Outside lights glimmered on the lake. The bed and breakfast had the perfect view of the water, but tonight that view was obscured by snowflakes. The few meandering flurries that had been falling when I’d come inside for dinner had turned into a deluge.
“The storm is here,” Hannah murmured, dropping her bag by the bed to rush to the windows.
I was tempted to turn on the lamp so I could see every bit of her, but I didn’t know if she’d shy away at such intimacy. The dancing flames offered just enough light, streaking her long fall of light brown hair with hints of gold.
When I came up behind her, she barely seemed to notice. She laid her hand upon the glass as if she could touch the snow even through the window.
“Were we supposed to get a storm?”
“Oh, yes, it’s been forecast for days—” She broke off when my arms encircled her waist.
She felt so good. Solid, warm. Strong. The scent of lilacs wafted over me from either her perfume or her shampoo. Fuck, I’d never smell them again without thinking of her and this moment.
Of us alone in the firelit dark while a storm raged outside.
Then she stumbled backward, stomping on my foot. And I laughed.
“Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have moved. I just didn’t expect you to be so—”
“Close?” Her unexpected bout of nerves after her bravado downstairs was refreshing. Maybe the mask was slipping a bit?
“No. Hard. All over.” She cleared her throat and shifted toward me, lifting her head. “I was distracted by the snow.”
I gripped her chin, rubbing my thumb over the shallow dent in it. “Must not be that impressive if snow is more interesting than the prospect of being alone with me.”
“First big snowfall is late this year.”
“That it is.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “If I don’t have any condoms on me—and the chances are probably 60/40, odds not in our favor—I want to lay you in front of the fireplace and devour you all night long.”
When she only watched me with heavy eyes, I moved in that much closer until our bodies were flush. Wedged together. Carefully, I drew her full lower lip between mine, tugging softly with a scrape of my teeth until she let out a low moan.
The sound tore something open inside me. Later, I’d wonder if I had really lunged at her, cupping her face in both hands as I kissed her. My lips molded to hers and my tongue delved inside, sweeping over hers before I explored every nuance of her mouth. Then our tongues were twisting together, sliding against each other while she pushed up my suit coat and spanned her hands over my lower back through the thin cotton of my shirt.
Not enough. I needed to feel every inch of her pressed against me.
Naked.
No clothes again, ever.
Fuck, I was out of control. Already. Still. She made me do things I normally never would. Hell if I understood it. Even approaching her had been far outside my comfort zone.
My life wasn’t for me anymore. It was for the business. For Lily. Even for my grandmother.
But this…this was all for me. And for Hannah. Especially for her.
“Asher.” Her harsh whisper as she moved back made me open my eyes. Everything was fuzzy and indistinct except for the fiery blue of her irises.
What had we unleashed here?
“I’m so—”
She stopped me with a flick of her thumb over my lips. Lipstick probably. Already I wore her on my skin.
I wanted more of her on me. Surrounding me.
“I have a condom in my purse. Two, actually. Though I have to say that whole devouring thing?” she said breathlessly. “Suits me just fine.”
Three
Was I really doing this?
Yes.
A thousand times yes. First and foremost, I wanted to be rid of my pesky virginity, but this man… There was no way I was supposed to be this lucky. To have a man like Asher want me. To actually be shaking a little in his need for me.
It was beyond my scope in about a thousand different ways. But here we were. In the ultimate romantic getaway spot.
I mean, for God’s sake, there was actually snowstorm raging outside. I’d read this in a romance novel or seven. Heck, I’d watched it on the deluge of Hallmark holiday movies I’d binged this season.
Though the Hallmark movies weren’t nearly as carnal as I was about to get.
I cleared my throat. “Let me just go clean—”
“No. Don’t overthink this. If you go into that bathroom, you’ll come out with a million reasons why this is insane.”
“Oh, no. We’re doing this.” I was resolute. I had high hopes based on his kissing skills. Because whoa, boy, did he have skills.
I was getting this done. I was going to treat myself in every way that counted this New Year’s, dammit. The room, the ambiance, the man.
God, did I ever hit the jackpot on the man.
He grinned down at me, then loosened his tie and jerked it out of the knot. “Oh, we’re definitely doing this.” He looped the unfurled tie around my waist and dragged me in close.
Shocked, I laughed up at him and braced my hands on his chest.
“Finally, I got a smile.” He leaned down and flicked his tongue along my cheek before burying his face in my hair. “Dimples even.”
I lifted my shoulder against the ticklish spot. “I hate them.”
“There’s something about a woman with dimples.”
“Yeah, we look like a perpetual fourteen-year-old.” I pushed him back when he dug deeper to scrape my neck with his five o’clock shadow.
“No fourteen-year-old ever kissed me like you do.”
My breath shorted out in my chest. That was a good sign. Maybe I wouldn’t be totally inept at this sex thing. “I should hope not. Unless you were fourteen at the time.”
His dark eyes lit with the devil. I was sure of it. And I wanted to let the devil in. “Maybe when I was twelve. I’ve always been an overachiever.”
“I just bet.” I shivered when his hand slid up my back to find my zipper.
“Right now, I need to get my hands on your skin. To watch the firelight kiss every inch just before I do.”
“You’re sure you haven’t done this before?”
“Seduced a woman?” He peeled the dress away from my shoulder so it pooled between us. “I’m no innocent, Hannah.”
Oh, but I am.
Part of me screamed to tell him, but I didn’t want this to stop if he got weirded out about it. To chance that this could end without me getting what I needed.
I pulled my arms out of the dress and let out a slow breath as the material slid down to swish around my ankles, his tie floating to the floor as well.
“Sweet Christ.”
“I hope that’s good.”
“So good.” His eyes seemed even more intense in the dim light. As if there were shadows living in them. Some that made me wonder beyond my own selfish needs.
But others—like the heat growing between us—pushed away the pesky thoughts of reality.
His fingertips trailed up my middle. That was an area where things weren’t as tight as I wished some days. I baked and liked to eat my own cooking. But wonder filled his expression, not exasperation or disdain.
He lightly traced the lace of my forest green bra. I’d worn the one set of underwear I owned that wasn’t made of cotton and designed to be purely functional. I’d specifically bought it to match this dress and this night. For the wild, sexy Hannah I wished I could be, not the careful woman who spent too many hours dreaming up recipes and food combinations.
I wanted to be an adventurous woman who took exactly what she needed.
My head tipped back as he made lazy circles around my tightening nipple before plucking one lightly, then the other. Just that brief touch left me breathless.
It wasn’t me fumbling in the dark when the nights got too lonely.
This was a real man touching me. Wanting me.
Suddenly, warmth blossomed over the lace followed by a strong, sure pull from his lips. His tongue pressed against the lace, wetting it and making it malleable enough for me to feel every movement he made.
My fingers slid into his hair. The short hairs tickled as I grasped enough to hold him in place. I didn’t need to worry—he wasn’t stopping. No, he was more than happy to keep going with his light touches chased by little nips of his straight white teeth gleaming in the darkness.
I couldn’t look away as his laser focus became my lifeline. A rhythm only he seemed to understand and I ached to figure out.
Each pull from his teeth and mouth arrowed down between my thighs. When I swayed, he caught me, when I tried to back away from the intensity, he pushed for more.
I threw back my shoulders as he opened the clasp on my bra. I should’ve been worried that they weren’t as perky without all the support, but his jaw tightened as he cupped them together and met my gaze.
“Fucking beautiful. You were made for firelight. Made for me.” He swung me up in his arms and strode over to the fireplace. On the way there, he looked around.
“Bed?” It was pretty big. Not sure how he could’ve missed it.
Especially since I was the one who’d had the bubbly.
Speaking of, had Sage forgotten to send up our requested bottle? Or was it waiting for us in the hall?
Not that I intended to stop long enough to find out.
“No. I need you spread out just as I said. In front of that fire where I can worship this lush, perfect body.”
I swallowed. “Oh, boy.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Are you amenable to that plan?”
“Is there a contract to go with it? Where do you need me to sign?”
He laughed. “Maybe just that condom in your stash.”
“Bag.” I pointed to the mint paisley bag on the floor by the bed.
He rerouted to that side of the room and lowered me enough to grab it without putting me down. I dug into the little side compartment and dropped the bag again. Two condoms would need to be enough.
Please God.
As he passed the bed, I snatched the throw blanket at the bottom. He laid me gently on the floor, then grabbed the pillows off the bed and scattered them behind me. He knelt over me, his dress pants hugging him from thigh to knee and more importantly, just along his zipper.
And mercy, did the fabric hug it tight.
I could see the curve of him and everything clenched inside of me. There might have also been a little bit of panic since this was my first time.
Then again, Asher didn’t seem to be average in any capacity, so why would that particular appendage be any different?
He untucked his shirt the rest of the way and slowly unbuttoned the crisp pearl-colored shirt. A tight white T-shirt stretched across his chest. So many freaking layers.
If I’d been a little braver, I would have risen up to push the shirt up and out of the way, but let’s be real.
Every part of me was shaking at the idea of exactly what was under those gloriously tailored slacks.
Even his undershirt was something more than off the rack. Ripples of muscle showed under the superfine cotton. And the hint of something else.
Another tattoo?
“The way you look at me. God, I hope I don’t disappoint you. I’d hate to lose that gorgeous expression.”
“I think the worry is the other way around.”
“You couldn’t disappoint me. You don’t look like the kind of woman who lays there like a dead fish.”
A quick laugh rolled out of me. “That’s a thing?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that.”
“Let’s not talk about anything other than us.”
“I like the sound of that. Just like the first time.”
His smile softened. “I’m as nervous as the first time.”
“Yeah?” I swallowed hard. “Me too.”
He reached behind his neck and tugged the shirt over his head. His neat hair was tousled a bit and I liked it even more. Not so perfect. Especially when I was anything but.
He tossed his undershirt aside and crawled over me. “Now I can finally get you skin to skin.”
The arrow of hair fanned down his pecs and trailed down his muscular stomach. I trailed my fingers through the fine hairs there and shivered at the warmth of his smooth skin. “So beautiful.”
“You’re the beautiful one, not me.”
I followed the winding beads of his rosary tattoo. So much ink on someone I’d thought was so buttoned-up upon first glance. “I beg to differ.”
He closed his eyes as I followed the intricate lines and shading to his neck before he lowered himself to rub against my breasts. His groan matched my own as he covered me and my mouth.
My legs opened for him and the soft wool of his pants cushioned the decadently hard line of his shaft as he moved lightly against the lace of my panties.
Such small barriers, and yet they felt like too much.
I wanted his skin on me—all of it.
I curled my arms around his shoulders and moaned as he settled on top of me.
“Am I too heavy?”
“No. You’re perfect.” I curled my leg around his hip. I’d never had a man between my legs like this. The few boyfriends I’d had were more interested in getting a hand between my thighs than in actually fitting themselves against me. Forget taking the time to touch and kiss with meaning.
Asher’s mouth slid down to my neck and back to my breasts. He stared up at me in the firelight, his dark eyes dancing with flames and intent while he sucked my nipple with just a little too much force. Enough that I arched up off the soft rug.
Again, the pleasure arced through me and pooled under the lace of my panties. I was probably going to leave wet marks on his beautiful suit. Before I could mention that fact, he curled his arm under me so my shoulders bowed back, giving him more access.
As if there was a single place left on me from my neck to my breasts he hadn’t touched.
I ached for more. So much more.
“God, I want to taste you.”
“Aren’t you?”
“More.” He slipped down to the underside of my breast and to the soft line of my rib cage. “Everything.”
“I…” I didn’t have an answer for that. I craved every bit of experience, but I wasn’t sure how much honesty he could handle.
He scraped his teeth around my belly button, just above the dip of my panties. “May I?”
“Anything.”
“Oh, don’t give me that opening. I’ll take it all. I’m a greedy bastard.”
I swallowed down the rush of fear under the excitement. If this was the one and only time I’d have this chance, I wanted it all. Even the extra frosting of that amazing tongue where nothing but my fingers had been. “Show me.”
He inched lower and tucked the tips of his fingers under the stretchy lace and dragged them down my legs. Rather than looking down at the most hidden part of me, he stared into my eyes as he lowered his mouth to me. Our gaze was locked for what felt like forever.
“Breathe, Hannah.”
I let out a soft laugh and it faded into a groan as his tongue slipped through my wetness. “Oh, God.”
The rumble from his chest buzzed along my thighs before it reverberated through my skin to where his very clever tongue was tucked. I resisted the urge to push him away. It was intimate and overwhelming, but then there was nothing but a wash of intense pleasure as he flicked his tongue around my clit with a skill I didn’t want to think about.
Instead, I concentrated on the way it made me feel.
As if I was floating and drowning at the same time. The sounds of my wetness made me want to push his head away, but it seemed to intensify his need for more. The greed he mentioned seemed to diffuse into me and made me stretch up with little tendrils of need.
Instead of pushing him aw
ay, my fingers slipped into the longer hairs at the top of his head and held him closer. He groaned against me and slipped a finger underneath where his tongue had been. Sliding it into me while I gasped.
I arched off the rug and reached up with my other hand for the pillow above my head. Anything to hold on and not fly apart as one finger became two and he stretched me.
“You’re so fucking tight. As if you were made only for my mouth, my tongue, my fucking fingers.”
I panted out a sob. “Yes. No one else’s.” That was the truth. No lies there. “Never anyone else’s.”
He slowed and looked up at me. “Never?” He stopped driving his fingers deeper into me. “Hannah?”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to lie, but if he stopped—dear God, I’d kill him and cry for a month, maybe even a year.
He turned his hand until his thumb was tucked under my clit. My brain shut off and I lifted my hips for more. Madness clawed at my brain like a fever.
“No one?” His voice was reverent, not accusatory.
I turned my head away. “No.”
His fingers slipped out of me.
“Asher, please.”
“God, Hannah. I could have lost control. I was a second from ripping my zipper open and driving into you.”
Yes. Yes, I wanted that. So very much. To just have him let go and I’d finally be whole. To finally know what I was missing.
A tear slid down my temple. “Please don’t stop.”
“I couldn’t.” He quickly moved up to me, turning my face to his. “I wouldn’t. I just don’t want to take you like an animal. You’re twisting under my mouth and you taste so good.” He covered my mouth and I gasped at my taste on his tongue—now on my tongue. He tugged on my lower lip. “Taste that?”
I let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”
“Times a thousand for me. You taste like honeyed peaches and perfection.”
I’d never look at peach pie the same way.
He cupped my cheek, brushing away the tears that had leaked out. “I don’t deserve this gift, but when I said I was a greedy bastard, I meant it.”
I covered his hand. “And I meant it when I said I wanted everything. Show me.”
He inched back off of me. “God, you’re going to kill me, but that’s what you’re going to get. But your first time isn’t going to be on the floor.” He lifted me again and I yelped. “Round two maybe.”