Burned Deep

by Calista Fox

  His cock throbbed and he thrust deeper. “Fuck. Ari!” He convulsed as I squeezed him tight, prolonging my orgasm, making me soar.

  The powerful release was enhanced by how vehemently he responded to me—how hard he came. I clenched him fiercely, not wanting to let him go.

  All of his muscles flexed as he wrapped his arms around me. He was rigid, stone. I loved how the strength not only came from his chiseled features but also emanated from his every pore.

  His head finally dipped and he kissed me like I’d just made his entire year. Passionately, gratefully, sensually. Insanely perfect.

  When we came up for air, he burrowed his face in the spray of my hair across the pillows. And continued to breathe heavily.

  “Think I could stay here forever,” he mused.

  I stared up at the dark ceiling, the flickering candlelight barely registering. Something stirred and moved inside me. Something unexpected and indefinable. Something that caused my heart to constrict and turned my blood molten.

  Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn’t explain why, except that every second with Dane inside me was amazingly, darkly spectacular. Priceless. Impossible to break free of.

  So when he made to pull away, I said, “Not yet.” Unable to catch myself. “That forever was a bit too short.”

  His mouth grazed my neck, then my cheek, capturing my tears.

  “Ari,” he murmured. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not,” I insisted. “I’m—”

  “Ari. Baby.” He stared into my eyes again. “What is it?”

  “I never came before.”

  “What?”

  “With those other men,” I rushed on, to clarify. “From the hotel bars. I never once came. Not with any of them.”

  His gaze narrowed on me. “Never?”

  My head rolled back and forth on the pillows.

  “Then, why—?”

  “Because I wanted to—I mean, I’d hoped…” I sighed, a bit frustrated that even I couldn’t truly make heads or tails over those brief encounters. “I did it to make me feel normal, I guess. I engaged when it seemed necessary, but really … I never got anything out of it. And it sure as hell wasn’t anything like this. Nothing—nothing—could ever be the way it is with you.”

  Maybe too revealing. My eyes squeezed shut.

  “Ari.” He gave me a sweet, sexy kiss. One that melted my heart. My lids fluttered open. “I’ve never been this consumed, either. It’s different with you. Special.” He shook his head. “That sounds inconsequential and temporary. I don’t know the right word.”

  I stared at him, at a loss for words myself.

  “Anyway.” His lips brushed over the remainder of my tears and then he said, “Just let it be the way it is between us. Don’t try to fight it or let it scare you.”

  “It didn’t scare me,” I assured him. “It should have. But it didn’t. Not really.”

  “Then, what?”

  “It was just … kind of beautiful. Like … incredibly beautiful.”

  He grinned, his tension easing, his bunched muscles loosening. “Now I’m catching on.”

  “Dane.” I grimaced.

  He chuckled, low and deep. “Face it, Ari. For all your hedging, you wouldn’t have come tonight if you hadn’t agreed we were seriously involved with each other.”

  “You promised me answers,” I challenged.

  “And told you to pack an overnight bag,” he countered.

  I snickered. “You don’t have to win every time. You could maybe concede once in a while.”

  “Not really my style.” He hoisted himself up. I protested with a small whimper. He added, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m nowhere near done with you.” With a sexy wink, he untangled himself and stood.

  Sighing dreamily over the view, I watched him saunter off to the bathroom. Jesus, he was a masterpiece. I could barely take my eyes off his ass to admire his broad, tapered back. His narrowed waist. His powerful thighs.

  How the hell was I so lucky that he wanted me? It boggled my mind. And that he seemed as deeply enthralled … That just felt crazy and impossible. Yet there was absolutely nothing about him that would make me believe that everything he said was some sort of devious mistruth. Granted, I had no basis of comparison, but the way he’d fucked me and the things he’d said … And then the way he’d—

  My thoughts came to a screeching halt and I bolted upright. I pulled around me the chenille throw that was tossed haphazardly into the corner and covering the cushion where I was sprawled.

  He’d fucked me at first. No doubt there. But then … He’d made love to me. When he’d been between my legs, buried deep inside me and staring into my eyes … He’d made love to me.

  My stomach flipped.

  Okay, Ari. Time to face facts.

  Dane was absolutely right.

  This. Is. Serious.

  chapter 15

  Not just what had happened with us this evening and how I’d responded to it—to Dane—physically. But emotionally as well—most important of all, really.

  That I’d not had an orgasm with another man, only my vibrator and nameless/faceless fantasies, bore its own significance. Along with the blatant reality that I’d just been scratching nature’s itch from time to time. Unsuccessfully.

  This, however …

  Whole new ball of wax.

  As Dane returned, my gaze was fixed on him, taking in every glorious inch of his tanned and toned body. The way he stealthily, confidently moved. The way he watched me watch him.

  I tossed off the lightweight blanket and stood. My hands moved over his cut abs, up to his chest.

  “You did say you were nowhere done with me, right?” My voice was low and sultry. Suggestive. Because I wanted him again.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “I don’t want to wear you out all in one evening.”

  “Pretty sure I’ll bounce back.”

  A heartbeat later he swept me off my feet. Literally and figuratively.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “You seem to like doing that.”

  “Well, you did call me alpha.”

  “Good thing I didn’t say caveman or I’d be over your shoulder.”

  He carried me down the long hallway and into a bedroom. Dozens of candles ensconced in glasses of varying shapes, sizes, and heights were lit along the mantel, on the nightstands, across the wide ledge of the headboard. A fire warmed the room. No lights illuminated the space, just the flames.

  The king-size bed was covered by a rich, navy-colored satin sheet, with plump pillows that had shams to match. Dane sat me in the middle of the mattress and I curled my fingers around the lush material.

  “This is gorgeous,” I said as I absorbed it all in awe. My gaze landed on a nightstand and I leaned forward, fingering the velvety red and white rose petals scattered about. Warmth laced through me. I glanced back at Dane. “You did all of this for me?”

  “I told you this wasn’t going to be like your hotel hookups. There’s nothing casual about this at all, Ari.”

  “You’re trying to make me believe in romance—in my life, not just with my clients?” I shook my head. “I’m not saying that lightly, because this is really sweet and thoughtful.”

  He said, “It occurred to me the other night that I’m not exactly romantic myself. I’ve never felt the desire or need to be, honestly. But with you … I wanted you to know what all this might be like. Granted, I’m not incredibly original, given my own lack of experience—I even forgot the music.”

  I smiled. “I didn’t notice. And I like the crackle of the fire instead.” I touched the lavish sheet again and asked, “Did you pick the bedding up in Paris as well?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Well then, you’re nowhere near unoriginal. And, really, Dane…” My heart fluttered. A foreign feeling, but one that didn’t alarm me at the moment, because of his own admission. This was all new and different for him, too. Despite how he was completely in control of what we wer
e doing, if romance wasn’t his norm, either, didn’t that help to put me on par with him in one aspect of this … relationship?

  Joining me, he said, “Lay back.”

  He stretched out beside me, both of us on the diagonal across the bed. He raised my arms over my head, clasping my wrists in one large hand. The other skimmed the underside of my biceps, along the outer swell of my breast, across my rib cage to the dip in my waist. The slow, tantalizing progression made me burn. His fingertips grazed, his palm splayed. He seemed to take in every inch of me, not just with his sensual touch but also with his heated gaze.

  His hand moved over the curve of my hip, and I breathed a little shallower as he brushed my upper thigh, then the inside, with light strokes.

  I squirmed restlessly and amended that no way in hell would I ever be on par with him in any capacity, because he was a master of seduction and I was 100 percent at his mercy.

  “What are you planning to do?” I asked as excitement and anticipation mounted.

  His fingers glanced over my dewy folds and then he brought his hand to his mouth, tasting me.

  I sucked in a breath. Let it out on one long, “Oh.”

  He grinned mischievously. “I liked your hands bound the other night.”

  They remained restrained in his loose grip.

  “You’re going to tie me up again?” Why did that send a shiver of delight through me?

  He said, “It was hugely gratifying to know you were dying to touch me. You, of all people.”

  “The one who doesn’t like to touch or be touched.”

  “Mm-hmm. But you do enjoy touching me. And being touched by me.”

  “Insanely so,” I admitted.

  With a soft chuckle, he said, “I appreciate that you don’t try to hide it.”

  “Impossible, don’t you think? I mean … look at me.”

  “I am.” His eyes glowed. “Your nipples are hard. Your lips are glistening. And I’m not talking about these.” He kissed me. Then added in his evocative tone, “You want me again.”

  “Yes.”

  I would have cringed at my eagerness, but what would have been the point? There was no denying it. No fighting it. So I gave in to the need I had for him.

  “Make me come again,” I all but begged.

  The pads of his fingers skated over my stomach and up the valley of my breasts. He cupped the side of my face and kissed me deeply. I could have incinerated into the mattress from that alone.

  His expression was still mischievous as he released my wrists but tugged on a long silk sash attached to the bedpost that had been concealed by the sheet. He deftly tied me up before I really had any time to process the carte blanche I’d given him. He topped it off with a pretty little bow as I craned my neck to see what he was up to.

  “Polite-society bondage?” I teased.

  “Oh, no,” he said as he pinned me with a dark, desirous look. “There’s nothing polite about what I want to do to you.”

  My insides ignited. “Jesus, Dane.” My thighs squeezed together and my inner muscles contracted as the throbbing started.

  His head dipped and his tongue flitted over my nipple. Then he said, “Actually, I want you on your stomach.” He helped me, since I was bound. “That’s it. On your forearms and knees.”

  He shifted behind me and worked my legs apart. My back arched and I tossed a look at him over my shoulder. “You’re not going to do anything too kinky, are you?” I returned to the insecurity of him being way out of my league.

  “You’re fairly safe.” He winked.

  “Dane.”

  “I’m just going to spend a little time here.… I don’t think you’ll mind.” His head lowered and his tongue whisked over my slick flesh.

  My hips jerked. “Oh, God.” Not mind? Hell, I’d be pleading for more within seconds.

  His lips tugged gently at my folds, a scintillating touch that had me instantly forgetting my trepidation. He was an expert at the quick warm-up, then jumped straight into suckling my clit and fluttering his tongue over the responsive bud. Using his thumbs, he spread me wide and dedicated himself to getting me off.

  I panted harshly, the erotic ministrations setting me on fire.

  My fingers gripped the thick silken sash binding my wrists. My head dropped and my eyes closed. I concentrated solely on the pleasure he brought me, his skilled determination.

  His tongue circled my opening, then dipped inside. It was a wonder I didn’t come instantly. But he had more in store, and the flickering of his tongue against my clit, a bit stronger and faster, had me whimpering and squirming.

  “Dane,” I gasped. He was too, too good at this. “Fuck me.”

  But he wasn’t inclined to deviate from his current plan. He suckled my clit and everything exploded inside me.

  “Oh, God!” I cried out as the release rocked me to the core.

  I would never be impervious to this man or the things he did. I could barely breathe and my body screamed for him.

  “Fuck me,” I repeated. Demanded.

  “You want it just like this.” It wasn’t even a question. He knew.

  “Yes. Now.”

  He reached for a condom on the ledge that rose above the head of the bed. He was sheathed in an instant and thrust into me from behind. Hard.

  “Oh, yes!” I cried out.

  As he pumped steadily, I raised my hips and ass to give him better access. He clasped my waist and fucked me with quick, full strokes. Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed.

  Then he pulled out all the stops and flanked my legs with his, forcing them closed as he pistoned assertively. With my thighs pressed together, I felt every inch of him, width and length, sliding in and out. Nothing had ever felt more incredible than his rock-hard cock stroking my pussy, pushing farther in. To feel him so acutely, so forcefully … It was mere seconds before I lost it again and screamed his name.

  He thrust once more and came on a driving beat I felt deep within.

  “Jesus, Ari,” he ground out. “Fuck.”

  I clenched him tight, my spine arched, my head thrown back. If I could give him half the pleasure in return …

  My inner muscles squeezed and released as I milked his thick shaft and he continued to shudder.

  I had no idea how much time passed as we both savored the rush of heat and the intensity of the orgasm we shared. Could’ve been minutes. Likely it was seconds, but it felt like a small eternity.

  Our heavy breaths were one as they filled the room, in time with each other, as though his heart pounded erratically with mine.

  We remained joined. I had absolutely no desire to move an inch, to break the connection.

  What he did to me and the way we responded to each other was so beyond anything I’d ever fathomed, I tried to hold on to every tiny bit of it. Maybe that was a bad idea—rubbing against that once it’s gone you’re going to miss it horribly theory of mine. Yet a new theory was conveniently replacing the old one. I would have missed out on so much if I’d not traveled this path with Dane.

  At the moment, I could convince myself it was worth the risk.

  Were it to disappear tomorrow … I’d be shredded. No two ways about it.

  But it was just too incredible to give up right now for the sake of the next day’s sanity.

  Dane eventually withdrew from me and pulled the ties that bound my wrists. He rubbed them affectionately and whispered, “Okay?”

  “In heaven,” I murmured.

  He gave me one of his carnal growls. “You’ll have me going again in seconds.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  Lightly nipping my earlobe, he said, “I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve for you.”

  Then he slipped from the bed. As he headed to a door on the opposite side of the room, I said, “You’re not wearing sleeves, but I’m still expecting something clever.”

  His laugh filled the quiet night. Before he ducked into the bathroom, he told me, “I promise to keep you entertained.”r />
  I didn’t doubt it.

  With a contented sigh, I collapsed against the ultra-sensual satin sheet.

  Entertained was hardly the word I’d use for what he did. I wasn’t even myself at this point. I was some obsessed and euphoric woman whose body trembled and hummed with the sort of exhilaration that ought to be illegal. No one should feel this fantastic without giving up the rights to her soul.

  It was too good. Too sinful.

  Yet if there truly were something criminal about being this intensely aroused, sated, aroused, sated, aroused … Then okay. Lock. Me. Up.

  Dane returned. I would have moved a bit to accommodate his large frame taking up so much of the bed but I didn’t have the strength. And he didn’t seem to mind wedging himself between me and the low headboard, both of us at an angle.

  He dropped a sweet kiss on my shoulder, then reached behind him for a small glass bottle with a crooked nozzle sticking out of it.

  “What are you up to now?” I asked.

  “I promised not to wear you out, remember?”

  “Oh, please,” I begged. “Wear me out.”

  He laughed. “Close your eyes and enjoy.”

  I frowned.

  “Ari.” That insistent tone of his. “Try to relax.”

  “Yeah, right. You’re naked. I’m naked. In what world would I be able to relax and not hope you’re planning to be inside me again in the next five minutes?”

  His sexy chuckle didn’t help matters. How was I this perpetually turned on?

  “You might like this just as much,” he assured me.

  “Not a chance. Whatever it is.”

  “Eyes closed.”

  With a frustrated sigh, I did as he said.

  His free hand lightly twisted my long hair and tucked it in the crook of my neck. Then I felt the titillating drizzle of warm oil along my spine.

  And yes. It, too, felt heavenly.

  But it wasn’t just the enticing heat caressing my skin that melted me. The scent was out of this world.

  Keeping my eyes closed, as commanded—and because this little excursion was much more sensual that way—I asked, “What is that?”