by C. M. Albert
He grabbed her hand and stood, facing her. “I can’t, Emmeline—”
“My real name is Avaline Bellarose,” she whispered. “It’s time you knew the truth.”
He paused, searching her face. “Avaline, huh?” A grin lifted the corner of his mouth, a predatory look crossing his dark eyes. They grew darker when he was aroused; she remembered that from before. They were like black pools of lust at the moment.
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the first time, but . . . rules.”
“Fuck the rules, Avaline. It’s the goddamn rules that kept me from you this past year.” He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other holding the back of her head as he drew her against his body, pressing her so they were chest to chest. Goddamn, she was a handful of liquid heat. White heat. The kind that glowed so bright it seared your soul.
She stood on her toes, bringing her lips softly to his. Her hands covered the top of his head, rubbing it as their tongues reunited, slowly this time, remembering. She never wanted to stop kissing him, but they had to talk first, she was determined—though he wasn’t making it easy. His hands wrapped around her waist, cupping her ass to draw her in even closer. She felt him then. So wide and hard beneath the pants of his tuxedo.
“God, Dom . . . wait. I want to explain something first, okay? I—I can’t think when you’re this close.” She stood back, her chest heaving. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting him there.
“Thinking’s overrated, Avaline. I haven’t touched you in more than a year. You are all I’ve thought about. Can you at least tell me you felt the same?”
She lowered her head, nodding. But when she lifted her eyes they were wet, tears forming behind her long, black lashes. Dom rushed in, pulling her close. He ran his hand over the back of her head, nestling it to his chest protectively. “Shit, Avaline. Please don’t cry. What’s wrong?”
He held her there, letting her catch her breath. Then he led her back to the love seat, sat next to her, and took her hands in his. She swallowed, knowing there was only one way to get through to the future she wanted. She had to brave the fire.
“I have thought about you so many times, Dom. But you know I was married. I told you that when we met.”
Dom pursed his lips together, looking away.
“There’s so much more, Dom. It gets worse before it gets better.”
“What could be worse than you having a husband, Avaline?” he growled, his eyes growing misty too.
“Him dying,” she whispered.
“Fuck,” Dom said, dragging her into his lap. He held her while she cried, her head resting on his shoulder. He cradled her, stroking her hair. Giving her the time she needed to collect herself. She turned to face him. They were close. So close.
“I loved Henri, you have to know that. He was much older than I was, but I loved him. His children had a hard time believing that when we first married—thought I was after his money.” She laughed dryly. “I never needed his money. I needed him.”
“Avaline, I’m so sorry,” Dom said, holding her hands and tracing her skin with the pad of his thumb.
“Thank you. It’s just important for me to be honest with you.”
“Why?” he asked quietly. “You don’t owe me anything. I was no one to you,” he said, pulling back.
“That’s not true, Dom. And I think you know that,” she whispered. “You were what got me through the toughest days of my life. You were the strength I needed when I watched him deteriorate. The idea that I could see you again, seek refuge in your arms—that was enough to make me go on. You, Dom. You were worth fighting for.”
He couldn’t wait. He had to have her. To love her. To ease the sorrow from her eyes. Their kiss started slowly at first, till he bit her lower bit, drawing it in. Her hands flew everywhere—hungry. Starving for his skin.
He reached around, unzipped the back of her dress as he kissed her neck, taking solace under her chin. He buried his face in her hair, kissing along her forehead and down her nose. Slid her dress off her shoulders.
She stood, letting it fall the rest of the way to the ground and revealing the long legs he remembered. The creamy white skin. Like last time, she favored black lace under her dress, her bra pushing up in all the right ways to form two perfect globes. He reached out, stroking his fingers along the tops of her breasts, dipping his finger between the valley. She sighed, dropping her head back, opening herself to him.
He went slow, cupping her breasts as he kissed the tops of them. With one quick movement, he unsnapped her bra, revealing the most flawless breasts he’d ever seen. Petite, pink nipples stared back at him, begging for his tongue to worship them. He’d worship at her altar for the rest of his life if she’d let him.
He flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub that called to him. Her breasts were high and round. But soft. So freaking soft. He took her entire areola in his mouth, sucking hard, bringing a rush of blood to the surface and coloring her porcelain flesh. Love bites. She’d have marks in the morning, and he was glad. He wanted her to remember him. Wanted to leave a trail of evidence of their lovemaking so she would never forget him again.
“Dom—” she said.
“We’ll talk later. I’ve waited a year to hold you in my arms again, Avaline. You’re mine now,” he said, crushing her lips with his own. “At least for tonight, let me have you—let me love you.”
It was all she needed. Her hands flew, removing his tuxedo jacket and tie in record time. Buttons snapped in haste as she worked her way to his perfectly sculpted chest. Just as she remembered. Except now, he had the tattoo of a moonflower on his chest, right over his heart. She’d recognize the shape anywhere. It’s white-pink blossoms looked like a full moon and only bloomed at night—kind of like their last time together. Sacred, magical . . . gone in the morning.
She slowed, tracing her fingers over the delicate, pointed petals twisting together to form a near circle. Just as they did in her garden. “How?” she asked.
Dom leaned in, inhaling the scent from her skin before bringing his lips to hers in a soft, slow-simmering kiss. “You smelled like night flowers the first time I met you,” he admitted. “And you had them in the room. Every time I see one, I think of you. Remember the scent of you all over me. So”—he pointed to his chest—“I got one tattooed on my skin. Over my heart. Because I’ll always think of you and remember how rare they are, how rare you are, when I see it. And you have my heart, Avaline. You’ve had it since the first time you walked through those damn doors.”
She cried out, unable to catch her breath. “It was only one time. I’m sure you’ve had other lovers since then.”
“Once was enough, Avaline—when it was with you. There has never been another woman as classy and sexy as you in my life. That spark that happened when we first met—it felt . . .” he searched for words. “I’m not good at this Avaline. I’m a fighter—was a fighter. Not a poet.”
His grin was feral, full of heat. “But it felt intoxicatingly familiar and brand new all at once.”
He lifted her chin with his hand, turning her face up to his. “I know you’re still grieving, and I promise to give you all the space you need. But I need you, Avaline. Let me make love to you—just for tonight.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. He leaned forward, kissed them from her skin, then took her mouth in his. “Let me love away your pain, Avaline.”
She nodded, slowly unbuttoning his tuxedo pants. He was always commando underneath—old habits died hard. She placed her hands on his chest, bent forward to kiss him, tongue meeting skin as she savored. Remembering his scent, his taste. Everything about their first night flooded back to her.
Pushing him up against the conference room table and freeing him. Tasting him. Trusting him. Letting him blindfold her. Spread her wide open on the table so he could devour her.
Her whole body shivered. She’d had lovers since Dom, but not over the last six months. Not while sitting day by day at Henri’s side.
And not since she lost him.
She was hungry for Dom. Ravenous.
She shimmied his pants down his legs, dropping to her knees so she could help him step out of them. Avaline removed his dress shoes and socks, one at a time, before leaving a trail of kisses up his strong legs. She knew he was a fighter—had been? She wanted to hear more, but there were more pressing things to attend to first.
His skin was warm, manly. His legs hairy and strong. She ran her hands up the back of his thighs as she kissed his quads, her tongue loving a path along his inner thigh. His body twitched as Dom’s hands dropped to her hair. He lifted it to a ponytail so he could see her face.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes bewitching his heart further. One lick and he was a goner. His head dropped back as her tongue ran the length of him. Her hot mouth covered him, taking him down, down, down. Her small hands cupped him below, rolling his sac between her fingers as she sucked on him. Dom wanted to touch her, have his fingers inside her at the same time.
“Get up,” he growled. He tugged her hair, loved meeting her eyes over his cock.
Avaline stood, following him to the love seat. He helped her recline, her back pressed against one of the tall armrests while he stood next to her. He placed a foot on the sofa as she guided his cock back into her mouth, moaning as he touched her breasts and teased her sensitive nipples.
He let one of his hands wander south until he found her sleek, warm center. He pushed her black lace thong aside, appreciating the small triangle of her hair. Dom circled her sensitive nub with his thumb, rubbing his fingers along her outer folds. As her pace quickened with her mouth, he moved his hand, sliding three fingers deep inside her. She was so wet and it felt so familiar, even after all this time. She wrapped around his fingers perfectly, as if she were made just for him.
He matched the pace she set, driving deep, bending his fingers so he could reach her G-spot. Avaline lifted her hips, her body rolling like a line of waves as she arched into his hand over and over again. He couldn’t take it any longer. “You need to stop, Avaline, or I’m going to come,” he warned. She used her hands to pull his ass closer, refusing to let go.
Fuck!
He drove his fingers in deeper, faster. She met his hand thrust for thrust as if it were his cock. But her mouth stayed latched, persistent. He gave in, goose bumps washing over him as a primal groan escaped his lips. He came, deep inside her throat. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she licked her way back to the top, his fingers never ceasing their pace. His body was still twitching with little aftershocks when she called out his name.
“Oh, God, Dom. Yes! I’m so close.” Her hands went to her nipples, squeezing them as his fingers danced, his thumb closing over her clit. Now that he was free, he bent down, bridging the gap between her hot opening and his mouth. He sucked in, tugged at her flesh. She cried out again, clutching his ears as he buried his face in deep, grinding his mouth back and forth on her and not letting go.
She bucked her body in blissed-out agony, on the brink of orgasm. Dom didn’t know what came over him, but he grabbed both of her legs and flipped them over her head, her knees by her ears, so he could draw her pussy up even closer to his mouth. He held onto her hips as he devoured her, lashing her warm center with his tongue. It was so primal, so instinctual, so fucking boss—she came instantly, a long, intense orgasm as he held onto her clit, not letting her loose until she rode the wave of pleasure all the way down.
Her hands fell above her head, laughter escaping her lips. “Oh. My. God. Dom.”
“I know, right?” he said, a cocky grin on his wet lips. He took her hand and helped her sit up.
“That was even better than I remembered,” she admitted.
Dom ran his hand across his mouth, the scent of her all over his face. He never wanted to wash it off. But he wanted to make love to her on that sexy-ass bearskin rug, so he grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom.
The floor was heated to just the right temperature. He loved watching her walk in front of him. She still had on her thong, and the back rode high above her butt cheeks, giving him the sexiest show. Her high heels click-clacked across the tile floor until she reached the shower. Avaline leaned over to remove her wet thong and unfasten the straps of her black heels. She met his eyes as she stood, tossing the shoes to the side with a flick of her ankles. The look she gave him as she stepped into the shower could have melted icecaps.
He didn’t waste any time joining her. They stood under the hot spray, holding onto one another for the longest time. It was as if they were afraid to let go. His arms circled her, letting her rest her head against his chest. She’d been through so much this past year, and he wanted nothing more than to protect her. Know everything about her and what she’d been through. Then love the rest of the pain away.
He dropped his head, kissing the top of her hair, brushing it over her shoulder. If at all possible, she was even sexier wet. Her long dark brown hair dripped down her back like a river running wild. He remembered taking her from behind on the conference room table; she had a small waist, but a nice, round, heart-shaped ass he so badly wanted to spank again.
He pressed her up against the glass of the shower, leaning in to take her full, soft lips in his own. Her cranberry lipstick had long since disappeared on his cock. She stood on her toes to meet his mouth, her tongue taking the lead while her hands ran over his short brush cut. She moaned, pressing against him. The scent of lemon and rosemary filled the steamed-up shower as he lathered her body. Suds ran down her perky breasts, over her taut stomach, and between her legs. She slid up and down against him as they kissed, driving him to the brink of distraction.
He could take no more.
He turned her hot little body around and rubbed his hands up and down her bubbled-up sides, cupping her breasts. She pushed her ass against the hard-on that was riding tall up against her backside. She wiggled her body as Dom stroked it, sliding her butt cheeks up and down the length of him, sudsing him up in the process.
Her tits were the perfect size, his hands slipping and sliding easily over them with all the bubbles. She arched back and kissed him slowly as he pinched her nipples hard, tugging them. When they came up for air, he placed a hand on her back and guided her forward so he could slide inside her warm, wet opening.
Memories flooded him of their first time together. She was just as tight and hot as he remembered, but this time was even better. This time, she was free.
He buried himself deep inside, grinding his hips against her ass as he rocked back and forth. Her palms pressed against the slick tile as he filled her, lightning shooting to her stomach when he grabbed her long, thick hair and tugged. Her scalp tingled, her insides aching even as he filled her.
Avaline met him thrust for thrust, sliding even farther down his long shaft as he rubbed the bubbles over the slick, perfect globes of her ass. Her insides clenched around his cock in pleasure when he slipped his wet thumb into her backside, sliding it back and forth as he drove into her, his pace never slowing. Her body spasmed against him, her legs shaking as she came again. He nearly exploded with her, but he wanted so much more.
When she’d come down from her orgasm and her breathing evened, he turned her around to face him, kissing the tip of her nose. “Wow,” she breathed out, her teeth finding his lower lip and tugging, sucking it in. She wrapped her hands around his waist, gripping his ass.
“We’re not done yet,” he growled. The heat was boiling in his stomach, and only she could put out this fire.
They rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. As he was drying her off with a large, white, fluffy towel, he heard the chime go off and cursed. “No! It’s not enough time, damn it.”
“Shh,” she said, pressing a finger over his mouth. “We have more time,” she promised.
He kissed her finger. “How?”
“Come, follow me, and I’ll tell you the rest of my story,” she said.
They bundled up in plush white robes, emblazo
ned with WR on the left breast pocket. They headed back to the living room, to their cocoon by the fire. There was a fresh tray with hot chocolate waiting for them, just as she’d ordered from the concierge. White moonflowers filled the vase on the tray.
Dom grinned, fingering the petals. “Would you like some?” he asked.
She nodded, sitting on the bearskin rug and looking into the fire. There were monstrous piles of white pillows surrounding them on the floor. He carried two mugs over and sat beside her, handing her one.
She cupped the warm mug with both hands, getting lost in the flames that danced before her. She felt his hand on her back, rubbing his palm in circles but giving her the silent space she needed.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Ready for the rest of it?”
Dom nodded, taking a sip.
“My husband Henri and I own the White Room,” she said, pausing to gauge his reaction.
She understood the confusion she saw fill his eyes. “All this time? You’ve owned it?” Dom ran a hand over his face. Avaline knew the wheels were spinning in his head, and she braced herself for the question she knew was coming. “You could have called me. If it’s your company, you could have seen me anytime you wanted to.”
“I was still married, Dom. The rules we created were meant to protect our clients. No matter how I felt personally, our time together had to be compartmentalized and kept in the White Room. I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”
“Of course. I know, Avaline. I just—it’s a lot to wrap my head around, and I missed you so fucking much.” Dom held her hands in his own, squeezing them. “I’m sorry . . . go on.”
Avaline nodded, rubbing her thumb over his fingers. “As soon as we found out he was sick—he had Creutzfeldt-Jakob’s disease, the hereditary kind—we transferred the entire company over to me. Have you ever heard of that disease before?” Avaline asked.
“No,” Dom said shaking his head. “You said it was hereditary? Did you have children together?”