Divine Conspiracy (Divine #1)

by Rose Hudson

  “Patrick, you need to know that I haven’t given myself to anyone in a long time.” She chews at her bottom lip and looks down between us, her words catching me by surprise. I don’t know what I expected her to say, but this wasn’t in my realm of possibilities. This second chance I’ve been given with her becoming all the more priceless knowing I’ll be the first man in however long to claim her, answer her needs, fulfill her desires. This woman, this stunning woman who deserved to have every fantasy made a reality, who’s body deserved to be worshiped in all forms of the word, is sitting on my lap, wide-eyed and worried she couldn’t meet my expectations. If only she knew that I’d never known I was capable of wanting so much, until her. If only she knew. There is an entire classroom of voices sounding off in my head. Some telling me to pause and listen. Some telling me to be kind and gentle. But the one at the back of the class waving an arm in the air saying ‘Ooo! Me me me!’ wins out. Erin is a strong independent woman, and she doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who wants kind and gentle in a moment like this. She deals in directness, in straight shooters, and I don’t think she expects any less from me. I think we’ve had enough stops on this roller coaster ride. I lean down and kiss a trail from her chest to her neck, eliciting a quiet gasp from her mouth as her fingers tighten on my neck.

  “Look at my mouth. You need to really hear me.” Placing a chaste kiss to her lips, I lean back just enough to look into those blue diamond eyes. “You need to know that I plan on taking you. So deep it feels like you’ve never given yourself to anyone before me.” That vivid pool of desire returns in her eyes as my words ignite that ever growing flame. “And nothing else matters.” Both of us concede to this push and pull we constantly delve out to each other, finally cresting at the peak of a wave, our ships crashing into one another.

  We both release urgent moans as our lips slam together and she rocks against the still hard ridge beneath my jeans. Tongues clashing, needing to feel more of this woman that’s haunted my every thought for weeks, one of my hands cups her breast and she rocks again, her need for me the hottest fucking sight I’ve ever envisioned. Impatience reaching a new high, I try to pull back the fabric covering her breast, but meet resistance.

  “Wait. I forgot I’m taped into to this damn thing,” she groans out, reaching down to rip off a strip of tape from the soft mound of each of her breasts. “Fuck,” she mutters through closed teeth and inhales sharply. I stifle a laugh at the sight of her pouty bottom lip and she pokes my chest. “Ah, so you’re a sadist. It all makes sense now.”

  “Only when the time is right.” I shoot her a devious grin, and a glint of thrill reflects in her stare, causing my mouth to water at the thought. I run my hand from the narrow void between her breasts and up to her collarbone, fingering the supple dip where my lips had been earlier. Sliding one sleeve and then the other down her shoulders, we both watch in earnest, our eyes following the path as each falls down her arms. As I take in the sight of her bare chest, I swear I could weep. Sure, ass and legs and everything in between is appealing in its own right. But these tits? There’s no doubt I’m being more of a gentleman than I ever knew I could be, but that doesn’t mean my dick doesn’t try to jump out of my pants to land between them. Maybe someday, buddy. Maybe someday.

  “I feel like I should send a fucking thank you card to your parents.” The giggle she releases is short lived when my hands meet her skin, gently appreciating the heavy feel of each massive breast. Glowing porcelain skin so flawless that softness radiates from it, become visible as well as touchable. Spotting redness where the tape had been, I move my thumbs gently over each elevated patch of skin. Erin rolls her head to the side and back, her eyes fluttering closed, reveling in the simple contact.

  “I love your hands,” she admits almost shyly.

  “They’re so rough compared to your soft skin.”

  “That’s what I love. Tells me you know how to use them.” I lick my lips and bend to transfer the wetness lightly across each spot with my bottom lip, rubbing the pads of my thumbs over her nipples and squeezing her fullness with my palms. Her breathing is heavy, her hips pushing harder into my throbbing dick that’s now painfully begging for release from the confines of my jeans. But God, I could get lost watching the control slowly slip away from her. Unable to keep from doing it, I run the full length of my tongue over one nipple, almost growling at the confirmation of her sweet taste. My hands grip the other breast roughly and all hell breaks loose inside of me as she runs her hands under the back of my shirt and her nails down the muscles of my back. I pull away from her nipple and look up to her face, her lips parted and breaths a heavy pant. I pointedly hold her gaze as my hands fist the black fabric pooled at her waist before ripping it away from her body. Her eyes fall to her exposed navel and down further to the black lace of her panties. Looking back up at my face through fallen strands of red curls, her hands fly instantly to the collar of my shirt, tearing the row of buttons down the middle of my chest in one fluid motion, causing buttons to sound fiercely off the hardwood floors around us. I roll her under me, one knee on the bed as I pull her body to the edge. I pull my arms free from the sleeves of my shirt and then discard what’s left covering her legs before tossing both to the floor and standing between her knees. I fist the comforter on either side of her hips as I bend to kiss a trail up the inside of each thigh, her fingers insistently kneading into my hair with each ascending lick and kiss. Finally reaching her lace covered mound, I toy with the hem, running one finger just under the fabric and grazing a lip of her sex, my finger meeting the rendering of her desire.

  “Fuck,” a low growl escapes me. “Glad to know I’m doing something right.” My voice is low and menacing, my mind racing and my body amped up beyond reason. I run my finger up and over her clit, spreading the wetness, preparing her body for me.

  “Patrick…,” she exhales heavily. “I can’t… Please.” The vulnerable release of my name from her lips sends shock waves of dark pleasure through every part of me and my dick jumps. Changing my original course of action, I hastily push her further up the bed, taking the panties with me as I spread her legs and settle between them, the sweet scent of her so fucking intoxicating. Laying on my stomach, her brows meet and she lifts up on her elbows as I place her legs over my shoulders. “No, you don’t have t…,” her words trail as I plunge my tongue between her folds, becoming a sharp carnal inhale as she watches me. My tongue eating her in long strokes, I lift her ass off the bed with one arm, pushing my middle finger inside her with the other. The bow of her body is instant, her hands reaching blindly for my head, threading her fingers into the sweat dampened strands of my hair wildly. Sucking her clit so hard my cheeks hollow, and pushing two fingers inside her, I watch her transform from the in-control woman I knew, to the out of control woman I was making her into. She was coming apart at the seams, unconsciously fucking my face with every lap of my tongue, making my hips dig instinctively, alive with need and almost willing to fuck the mattress. Watching her was too much and not enough all at the same time. My thumb replaces my mouth over her clit as I rub the scruff of my jaw along the inside of her thigh, kissing and nipping at the pink trail I was leaving on her glowing skin, wanting to sink my teeth in harder, needing something to quail this urge. I had never wanted to claim every part of a woman so entirely and there is no way I can wait one more fucking second to feel her. All of her. I lower her to the bed and push myself to the edge, my eyes unable to look away from her as I unbuckle my belt and lower the zipper of my pants. I try my damndest not to fumble with my impatience as I push both my jeans and underwear down my thighs. Pushing up from her lowered position on the bed, her eyes darken as her face comes to eye level with the erect length of my shaft. Every muscle in my body tenses so loud I know we both hear it when she trails the tips of her fingers gently along the full length of me.

  “God…Erin, I have to…,” my words are intelligible but her eyes widen and she shakes her head, finger nails digging into my shoul
ders as I lean down to her. She pulls me roughly the rest of the way, bodies working up the bed, our mouths finding each other. Teeth and tongues clashing, impatient and fighting for position, she rolls on top of me. I grab her hips and roll her under me again, our eyes talking but our mouths saying nothing. My dick meets the wet heat of her and I clench my teeth as heat rolls over me. God she was too much. The simplest contact and I’m ready to fuck her so hard the bed would end up somewhere in the kitchen on the first floor. Don’t take her body or this chance for granted. Knowing that I have to find some hidden section of control, I exhale roughly, hoping it doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels and lock onto her stare, hoping to see the same desperation I feel reflected back at me. Seeing so much more, our holds on one another tightening, I lean down to taste her lips as I slowly inch the head of my cock inside her. I bury my head in her chest and pause at her sharp intake of air, pulling out as I wrap my arms under her back, pressing the entirety of her body firmly into mine. Easing in halfway and out again, coated in her thick slickness, her eyes and her body tell me she’s ready for me. The force of the moment explodes around me as I thrust into her completely. She cups my face with both hands, lips touching but unmoving, her breathing me and me breathing her. My mind bends in response, lost in the feel of her surrounding me, in the realization that I have never experienced a feeling so instantly satisfying in all my life.

  “You feel so fucking good, Erin,” my voice thick, coming from deep in my chest as I look down at her and rock into her deeper. Fighting it, but unable to tamp down the need hammering away in my chest, I increase my pace. Relishing in her cries coming louder and more frantic with each slap of our skin. Her hands rake down my chest, past my stomach and down to my dick where she spreads two fingers on either side, causing a deep rooted heat to coil. “Goddamn Erin. I’m not going to be able to hold back if you do that”

  “I don’t want you to hold back,” her voice comes out in a whisper. I lick the pad of my thumb and move it to her clit, rubbing deep circles over and around it, her hips coming up to meet mine, causing each thrust to reach a new depth. “I’m so close…,” her hand falls over mine, pressing hard over her clit as she rolls her hips beneath me. “Patrick…oh God!” I watch, captivated as her hands move to her gorgeous tits, squeezing, eyes opening wide and boring into mine as she shatters into a million pieces. Pulling my mouth to hers, our kiss is deep and filled with a meaning I didn’t recognize. Moving inside her, feeling wave after wave of her pulsing around me, the heat of my own release starts to spread deep and wide down my spine and an unknown wave of fear starts to pool in the pit of my stomach. What if this was it? What if this was the only night I ever got to have her, be inside her, hold her beautiful body? Unaware that my emotions are playing out for her to see, she reaches up to my lips, running her finger over my bottom lip and bringing my eyes back to hers. If it was possible, the look of endearment on her face spurred me forward even more than the sight of her beneath me; legs wrapped around me, the bounce of her full breasts with every thrust of my hips. The most beautiful sight I’d ever seen, made astonishingly more beautiful by one knowing look. A look proving that her heart had understood and felt the same.

  “I want to make it last forever,” the words fall uncontrollably from my lips.

  “I have forever if you do.”

  THERE IS NOTHING SEXIER than the sight of a man cooking in the kitchen. I have heard random women, and not so random; i.e.- Chanin, say this before, but it had never held any real meaning until right now. Watching Patrick, hair mussed and body bare except for a pair of black boxer-briefs flipping French toast from a skillet on the stove, a prideful appreciation coming over me at the view of him from behind. Which only intensifies when he turns to grab a plate from the island and his eyes land on me, instantly flickering from gray focus to silver desire. My stomach dips and I nervously run my fingers through the long, messy strands of my hair, suddenly aware of my rushed state of dress as his eyes run up and down the length of my body. When I had woken up to an empty bed, I immediately threw on a tank top and shorts to run down stairs, unsure if I would find him still here or not. Shocked to see that he is not only here, but half naked and gorgeous cooking in my kitchen? Holy shit, heart don’t fail me now.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” His words melt over me like butter and I have to reach behind me to grasp the edge of the bar for support. The number of times that I had daydreamed about hearing a man say those words to me was ridiculous on its own. But hearing him say them, a man that far surpasses any boundaries of my imagination, is beyond even the best of what my daydreams produced. He grins wickedly before turning his focus back to the stove, and a million things play out in my mind in the seconds it takes me to reply.

  “I thought you were gone again.” The muscles in his back visibly flinch at my words and I shudder at my uncontained honesty. Damn Erin. Way to ruin the moment with your mouth, like always. He shuts off the burner and turns to face me, face giving little away as he makes his way to me in three quick strides, a breathy gasp escaping me at his sudden proximity. His body presses flush to mine, his firm hands on my hips. I search his eyes for emotion, expecting to recognize anger, but see remorse instead.

  “I can’t change that night, but you need to know that I’ve spent every day since wishing I could.” The conviction in his voice reinforces the honesty of his words and my heart clenches in fleeting regret. Because suddenly, as if his simple admission had healing powers, all negative memory of that night evaporated into thin air. I don’t easily forgive. In fact, some would say, my father in particular, that I’m a bit of a grudge holder. So for me to instantly and without question forgive him makes me see him in a different light. Like he possesses a key to a part of my heart that I hadn’t known existed. Doing my best to disguise the fact that he just knocked my socks off without trying, I place my arms around his neck and give the best nonchalant smile I can muster.

  “I’m just glad your here,” my words come out thick with emotion and I clear my throat to rid myself of it, relieved when he smiles in return. Things are happening all at once with us and there is so much that I have to process ‘in the moment’. I don’t want him to mistake my internal confusion for harbored feelings of anger or hurt toward him. I’ve always been such an open book where emotions are concerned that even the most unperceptive of people can easily read me, but feeling the need to squash this once and for all I continue. “I think I made too big of a deal about that night, that’s in the past. And anyway, I’m pretty sure we reconciled any differences we had last night.” Now it’s my turn to grin wickedly. His chuckle rumbles low, transferring to me where his bare chest presses against the thin material of my light blue tank. The instantaneous gasp that leaves my mouth as my nipples tighten under his taut muscle is blaring to my ears in the stillness of the empty house. Heat flushes my chest and spreads up to the hammering pulse in my neck. Amusement morphs into desire as his eyes scan my face and down to my chest, leaving a path of goosebumps. His finger trails from the hollow of my neck, down to the dip of my cleavage.

  “What’s all this about?” His voice is husky as he gestures to the heated pink of my chest, the sizable plane of his hand easily covering me as he spreads it across my skin. Heart quickening at the feel of his heavy gaze, I pull my enraptured stare up to his stunning face, mesmerized by the ruggedly flawless beauty. I’m reduced to a puddle of thick desire by the fierce silver of his eyes. But there, in the darkest particles where silver fades to black, I see what I’m sure has remained hidden to others before me. Pain. I see it, feel it every time our eyes meet. Questions. So many that I want to ask, but can’t. Fear. That with every touch, every intimate word spoken, a piece of my soul will be given to him unreturned by what I can only decipher as an inability to love. But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m overthinking things like I always do? Weeks of sleepless nights, of daydreams and what-ifs. Years of purposefully secluding myself from possibilities, and now, everything I want is standing be
fore me.

  Unwilling to submit to my trepidations, I shake off the urge to ignore my feelings, to ignore the way this man makes me feel, and makes me hope for the first time ever. I shift my gaze back to where his hand lies across my heart, certain that he feels my words with every rapid succession before I release them into the space between us, I let the truth fall from my lips.

  “It’s the heat of desire and the color of fear that I will never be the same after last night. It’s my heart rising to the surface and begging you not to break me into a million unrecognizable pieces.” The words land courageously unashamed into the now deafening silence. When he doesn’t move or say anything I have to forcibly tamp down the regret starting to crawl up my spine. I could’ve taken the easy way out. I could’ve feigned ignorance and played it off as nothing. But I’m done being the girl too scared to step off my front porch into this wide world. No more being scared. No more pretending. I want to be the woman that says what she wants. In this moment there is no time for half-truths and games. Genuine honesty holds the sword when carving out the truth, and that’s all that stands between my brain and my heart. The ball is in his court and whatever his actions are from this second forward will either prove my unbelieving mind or my yearning soul the victor.

  Standing taller, feet cemented beneath me, I push all lingering doubt from my features as I bring my eyes up to meet his. This time there is no pain, no questions, no fear. This time, I find the truth I seek; vulnerable and confident, loving and fierce. Running his hand up the tautly stretched length of my neck, he cups my cheek. The press of his work-weathered palm exquisite and lovingly tender as I place mine over his, turning slightly to press my lips into the warmth of it. Without speaking, he lifts me up to wrap around his waist, lips finding mine, our kiss far extending the bounds of words. As he carries me to the staircase, reminiscent of every time we’ve made the trip to my room, I become blatantly aware of how different it feels. How his hands hold me more completely and less greedily. How his kiss is deeper and less urgent. This is different. Last night I could feel how every move, every touch was so time sensitive. I saw my own imminent fear of its exclusivity reflected in his eyes. When I told him that I had forever if he did, he didn’t speak, but his release had seemed to gather deep, pulling me to him as his body responded to my reassurance. His words are few and far between so much of the time, but just like right now, his actions roar above his silence.