“Brock…” She shifted beneath him, tortured by the brush of the material across her nipples.
“Slowly,” he instructed. Dipping his head, he began to place kisses up her jaw to her ear. “A well-prepared meal should be savored with tiny bites, letting the flavors form on the taste buds.” He touched the tip of his tongue to the sensitive spot below her earlobe as if illustrating the fact.
“Ooh,” she said, trembling.
“We’re going to take our time and make this last.” His deep voice in her ear brought goose bumps rising across her skin. Her neck burned from his hot breath as he trailed his lips down it. “I want to take you to that place at the edge of desire. You know the one I mean?”
“No,” she said faintly, her nipples tightening so much they almost hurt. In the background, she could hear the song had changed to Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. She’d not considered it a sexy song before, but suddenly it felt full of sensuality, as if she were being coated with honey or melted chocolate.
Brock kissed where her neck met her shoulder, then tilted his head to kiss under her chin and touched his tongue to the dip at the base of her throat. “There’s a moment where your muscles start to tighten, where you can feel your orgasm in the distance like thunder, and it’s nearly there, just seconds away. It’s almost better than when you actually come, because it’s like Christmas Eve, full of the promise of pleasure. That’s where I want to take you, and I want to keep you there as long as I can, until you’re aching and crying out my name, until you’re begging me to let you come because you can’t bear it any longer.”
“I’m there already,” Erin said with a groan, a dull ache throbbing between her thighs.
He chuckled and kissed up the sensitive skin under her arms, taking tiny nibbles with his teeth before following the movement with his tongue. “You’re nowhere near it. Trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered, meaning it.
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he gave a satisfied nod, and lowered his lips.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stopping himself from tearing off Erin’s silky nightie and plunging into her welcoming body was incredibly difficult. She smelled divine, of jasmine mixed with the musky smell of arousal, and for some reason she tasted of chocolate, although he couldn’t think why. Everything about her was soft, from her feet and legs to the swells and curves beneath the nightdress to the hair that tumbled like a sheet of gold silk across the pillow. He knew that when he eventually slid inside her, she’d be warm, moist, and slippery, and he was desperate to plunge deep into her and take his own pleasure.
But he didn’t. He finally released her hands, liking the way she sank them into his hair, her fingers tightening in the strands as he kissed down her neck to her breasts. Cupping the soft mounds, he reveled in their weight and firmness, adoring how the fabric enabled his hands to slide over them.
Erin lifted her arms over her head and stretched out beneath him, arching her back and pushing her breasts toward him. He took the hint and nuzzled her nipple with his nose, then teased the soft peak with his lips through the fabric. It hardened to a tight nub, and she sighed, a long, low, lazy mmm of approval that made him smile.
He toyed with her other nipple until it was also tight, then kissed down her belly, sliding the nightie up her legs as he did so. The tender skin on the inside of her thighs was almost as silky beneath his fingers as the satin material. He continued to kiss over her hips until he met the crease of her thigh, where he paused to breathe in her scent.
“Brock,” she mumbled, obviously embarrassed as he inhaled, but he ignored her and kissed her other thigh, only then letting himself lower his mouth to her folds.
Even there, she tasted of chocolate, although maybe it was just his senses getting muddled, the velvety feel and warm taste of her mingling with the luxurious smoothness of Crosby’s voice until he felt as if she were a Christmas parcel waiting to be unwrapped.
Pushing her thighs wide, he parted her folds and delved his tongue inside her to lap at her arousal, growing even harder at the rich, warm moisture he’d coaxed from her with his kisses. She moaned and sank a hand into his hair, and he slid his tongue up through her folds, pressing gently at the top with two fingers to expose her clit.
Gently, he blew warm air across it, and Erin gave an aaahhh of ecstasy. He touched the very tip of his tongue to the swollen button, and she cried out and clenched her fingers in his hair. His own fingers tightened into fists as he fought with himself not to bury his mouth in her and suck until she came. Slowly, Brock. Slowly.
He gave her clit a few delicate swirls of his tongue, then moved back and up the bed. Quickly shucking his briefs, he lay beside her. She groaned but turned to face him, her cheeks flushed a becoming pink, her lips parted.
“I ache,” she whispered, lowering a hand between her legs.
“Nah-ah.” He caught it and lifted it to stop her, then shifted closer so they were lying face-to-face. He slipped one arm behind her so he could pull her into his arms.
“Tease,” she said, a little sulkily.
“Yep. The thought of you aching for me turns me on.” He kissed her and slid his other hand down her back to her knee, which he then lifted over his thigh so she was wrapped around him. His erection pressed against her belly, eager for action.
“Does that make you a sadist?” She lifted her nightie and shifted so the tip of him slid beneath her.
He rocked his hips, sliding through her slippery folds. “I’m not into pain, but I’m open to a bit of sexy torture.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh God.”
He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “Does that turn you on, Ms. Bloom?” He continued to slide his erection beneath her, arousing himself as well as her. “How about next time I bring some scarves, tie you down, and do unspeakable things to you?” His erection swelled at the thought.
With a groan, she tipped her head to the side to give him better access to her ear. “Like what?”
He kissed around the shell of her ear, then nibbled the lobe. “Depends how far you’ll let me go.” Lightly, he brushed his lips along her jaw to her mouth.
Her lips parted, her breath warming his lips. “What if I said as far as your imagination will take you?”
He lifted his head and met her gaze, and they exchanged a long look. Brock’s heart raced. He’d never felt such a strong urge to possess a woman, to take her and make her cry out his name with pleasure. “You should be careful what you say,” he warned, tightening his hand on her bottom as he pulled her to him. “I have a very good imagination.”
Her lips curved up and she kissed him. “As long as it’s just the two of us, you can do whatever you want to me.”
He closed his eyes, counted to ten, then opened them and blew out a breath. “Fucking hell, Erin. I’m trying to make this last.”
“You started it.” Hooking her leg over his hip, she moved until the tip of his erection sank inside her.
Still trying to keep control, he gave her a warning look. “Condom,” he said, about to roll onto his back to retrieve one from the bedside table.
She caught his arm and stopped him moving. “I’m on the pill.” She kissed him. “If you don’t want to use a condom, I don’t mind. It’s up to you.”
The notion of sliding inside her without barriers was too tempting to ignore. She’d completely turned the tables on him, and now it was him fighting for control, his body aching for release. “You’re sure?” His voice sounded hoarse, even to him. When she nodded, he pushed his hips forward and slowly sheathed himself in her.
“Aaahhh…” He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes again. Man, that felt good.
She rocked her hips to make sure he was coated with her moisture, then shifted on the bed so she was pressed against him from belly to chest, letting him slide deep inside.
He opened his eyes and kissed her, reveling in the sensation of her soft body wrapped around him, her ski
n warm beneath the satin. Their tongues swirled and tangled while their hips moved in unison, teasing sensation from them and gradually encouraging them closer to the edge.
“Easy,” he said, sliding his hand to her bottom to slow down her hips.
“I can’t… it’s too… ooohhh…”
He teased her lips with his and nibbled them with his teeth, then ran his tongue along them. “Too…”
“Mmm,” she murmured, apparently unable to articulate how she was feeling. Her nails dug into his shoulder, and she scraped them lightly down his back, making him shiver. Her eyelids drifted shut, but he nudged her cheek with his nose.
“Open,” he instructed.
They fluttered open, her blue eyes sleepy with desire. “Why?”
“I want you to look at me when you come.”
“Why?” she whispered, unwittingly echoing her son’s tendency to question.
“So I’m sure you’re thinking of me.” He was close to coming himself, muscles tightening deep inside, his balls aching for release, but he tried to hold it in, wanting her to come with him.
“There’s only you.” Her blue eyes were clear and honest, her lips parting as her breath came in ragged pants. “I think there’s only ever been you, Brock.”
He was barely moving now, conscious that every cell in his body seemed hyper-sensitive. He consisted only of nerve endings, reacting to every touch of her hands, kiss of her lips, and miniscule thrust of her hips that sent him sliding in and out of her, arousing him with every stroke.
Brushing up her body to her breast, he teased her nipple, and her eyelids fluttered shut again before re-opening as she obviously remembered his instructions.
He looked into the eyes of this girl he’d fallen for even before he’d met her, and although he’d been going to wait until after they’d finished, as everything began to tighten, he couldn’t stop the words falling out. “I love you.”
There was no time to wait for her reaction. Heat spread up through him, and he crushed his lips to hers and pulled her tight against him as he spilled into her with intense pulses. Erin moaned against his lips and then he felt her contract around him, her internal muscles milking every last drop out of him as she came. They clenched together in a paroxysm of bliss, and he looked deep into her eyes, convincing himself that she would never, as long as he lived, belong to anyone else.
The pulses slowed, their muscles relaxed, and Brock gave a long, happy sigh. Rolling onto his back, still inside her, he brought her with him so she lay on top of him, and slid a hand into her hair to bring her head down so he could capture her lips for a long kiss.
When he eventually released her, she propped herself up on her elbows and studied him. “Hmm.”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “What?”
She rubbed her nose against his. “You said it first.”
“Do I get points for that?”
“You do. Lots of points.”
He stroked his hands down her back to hold her bottom and rocked his hips, enjoying the way he slid easily inside her.
“Stop it, you’re making squelchy noises,” she complained.
He nibbled down her neck. “Squelchy noises are sexy.”
“They’re really not. You’re disgusting.”
“Yes I am, and I’m afraid that’s something you’ll have to get used to if we’re going to make a go of this.”
She lifted off him, grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table to dispose of the evidence, then lay on her side facing him and propped her head on a hand.
He did the same, mirroring her pose, and they studied each other quietly for a moment. The evening breeze ruffled the thin curtains at the windows and brought goose bumps rising on his skin. He’d have to close the windows soon, but the bar where they were obviously having a Christmas party was playing Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You, and it gave him such a happy feeling that he decided to wait until they were ready for sleep.
Erin was sucking her bottom lip, and his heart rate picked up a little. After what he’d declared, a conversation about their future was inevitable. He welcomed it, though, wanting to clarify their feelings for each other. Did she want a relationship with him?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brock’s expression held a glint of amusement, and Erin had the feeling he was waiting to see if she’d cave and break the silence first. She’d wondered whether he’d be worried that he’d told her he loved her, when she hadn’t said it back. He didn’t look worried though. If anything, he looked a little smug, obviously pleased he’d said it first.
She held out for as long as she could, then sighed and gave in. “You really want to make a go of it?”
He smiled. “Yes.” He lifted a finger and traced along her shoulder. “I know it’s not cool to be too intense, and I don’t want to frighten you off, so I’ll try not to go overboard. But I will say I’m crazy about you. And before you say it’s too soon to say I love you, we’ve been talking for over a year now. I know it’s not the same as being together, but it’s not as if we met yesterday. When Matt told me the other day that Ryan was sick, I knew instantly that I had to see you, and make certain for myself that he was receiving the best care.”
“It was lovely of you to visit.” She leaned her cheek into his palm as he cupped it. “I really appreciated that gesture.”
“Well I hope I brightened his day—he certainly brightened mine.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. There was no point in holding back now. This was the moment where they set the wheels of their future in motion, so she might as well be honest. “Is looking after another man’s child something you really want to do? You’re a decent guy, so I know you’ll probably say yes because it sounds like the right thing to say, but I want to know what you really think. Ryan and I are a package deal, and I’ve never had a relationship while he’s been around. I don’t know how to balance things—he has to come first, and I’d hate for that to come between us.”
He lifted two fingers and pressed them against her lips. “Sweetheart, of course your son comes first. I wouldn’t expect anything less. And of course I get that the two of you are a package. He’s a great kid, and I’d love to be a part of his life. I wouldn’t expect him to call me Dad, but if he did, I wouldn’t hate it.”
Erin swallowed hard as a lump formed in her throat. His smile broadened as he obviously saw her emotion. “I’m not fibbing,” he said. “I mean it.”
“I know.” She looked at where her hand lay on the duvet, and picked at the embroidery.
He slid a finger under her chin and lifted it. “What is it?”
She didn’t want to voice her biggest concern, and she looked away, out to the view. The sun had set now, and the fairy lights were tiny stars against the darkening sea and sky.
“Is this about money?”
She turned back to look at him, surprised. “What makes you say that?”
“The things you’ve said before. Tell me why it bothers you.”
“I don’t want to have an argument.”
“Neither do I. So how about we don’t?” He smiled again.
She rubbed her nose. “So if I say something you disagree with, you’re not going to try to change my mind?”
He frowned. “That’s a discussion, Erin, not an argument. I won’t try to browbeat you, if that’s what you mean. You’re entitled to your opinion. That doesn’t mean your opinion is right.” A glint appeared in his eye.
She reminded herself that he hadn’t gotten where he was by being weak and wussy. But they had to have this conversation, because she couldn’t get past the issue, and if she couldn’t get past it, their relationship wouldn’t work.
She blew out a breath. “It’s something my mum said.”
“What did she say?” His voice carried a hint of steel.
“Well, two things really. That it’s not possible for a man to be truly unselfish. And that you won’t be able to ignore a niggling doubt that I’m aft
er your money, and it will come between us.”
A long silence followed.
Brock’s face remained carefully blank. “I see,” he said eventually.
Tears pricked Erin’s eyelids. “I’m not saying I agree,” she whispered, hoping he wasn’t going to yell at her.
“With which bit?”
“Sorry?”
“Which bit don’t you agree with?”
She sighed. “Before I elaborate, I think I should make you aware of my track record with men. It’s not good, which is the main reason my mother is protective of me, because she’s had to pick up the pieces on more than one occasion. My first boyfriend cheated on me with my then best friend. All my other relationships have ended disastrously. And of course there’s Jack.” Against her will, her bottom lip trembled.
Brock ran a hand through his hair. “Wait here a minute.” He got up, pulled on his briefs, and walked out of the room.
A tear trickled down her cheek, which she brushed away hastily. She needed to try to keep emotion out of this. Of course that was impossible, but if she broke down in tears she’d be unable to keep a clear head, and this was a very important moment—if not one of the most important of her life.
Where had he gone? She sat up, her arms around her knees, hoping he hadn’t rung for a taxi to take her to the airport or something. Was he angry? Did he want her to go?
She was considering getting up to find him when he reappeared. He had a wine glass in each hand, and a pretty green bag dangled from his fingers. After pausing to close the windows, he climbed back onto the bed.
“Mint chocolates,” he explained, holding out the bag and one wine glass to her. “I figured we were going to be here a while, and that we might need sustenance.”
Erin pressed her hand to her lips. He sipped his wine and then tipped his head at her. “What?”
“I thought you might be calling a taxi.”
That earned her an exasperated look. “You really think I’m so easily scared?” He plumped up the pillows, leaned back against the headboard, and crossed his legs. “Sweetheart, I’m telling you now, you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m aware we have a few things to talk through, and I’m going to sit here until you’ve told me everything. I promise I’ll listen while you tell me what a terrible mother and partner you’ve been, and then I’ll spend as long as it takes convincing you otherwise.” He took another mouthful of wine and swallowed.
The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1) Page 17