9781618853011NoHoldsBarredChelcee

by Unknown

  Her inner muscles contracted like something wild and alive, rippled like heat waves around his finger. A soft cry escaped her as her body quaked violently.

  * * * *

  Jace shivered. His cock throbbed with urgent need. His heart thundered against his chest, rapping to the painful tune of desire. Sweat poured off him, wetting his face, his back, and his chest. Then her inner muscles spasmed and clamped around his finger tightly. He had to taste her. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and dipped his tongue inside her. Her hot release flowed over his lips, onto his tongue.

  She tasted like honey. Rich, thick honey. He couldn’t get enough of her flavor. She was like something wild, twisting and crying, bucking urgently against his mouth. He continued the deep strokes, bringing her to peak again and again, and then he gently brought her down.

  Releasing her, he watched her shudder, saw the way her skin glowed like satin. The way her breasts heaved with labored breaths. His body hummed with the knowledge he’d given her pleasure. That he’d brought her to the ultimate peak several times with just the stroke of his tongue. And the best was yet to come.

  She clung to him, breathless, her body quivering. And Jace discovered something new about himself.

  He liked the way she clung to him.

  Needed him.

  He liked the hue of soft color that stained her cheeks, the dazed cloudiness in her beautiful eyes. He liked the way she cried his name as she exploded against his tongue.

  And he liked the way she trembled in his arms afterward.

  He discovered there was pleasure in bringing her down from the peak she’d just crested, bringing her down with long, drugging kisses, hot, moist kisses that left them both shivering with urgent need.

  Jace pressed soft kisses to her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her throat. She clung to him and offered her mouth to him. He tilted her head and set his mouth on hers, a little savage, a little desperate. He nudged her thighs apart, and then he was there at the portal of heaven, guiding his cock inside her, pushing forward, entering her with a slow thrust of his hips.

  Her sharp cry shook him.

  “Oh, sweet Christ,” he moaned.

  He clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to bury himself to the hilt.

  Stunned at how small and tight she felt around the head of his shaft, he held her thighs wider apart and penetrated a little deeper. “Nice and easy, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Relax, baby.”

  He pushed deep, swearing softly at her strangled cry of pain as he thrust his hips and pushed deep. She arched violently, twisted wildly, attempted to buck him off. “Noo! Stop! You’re hurting me!”

  Jace stilled. Shit! Shit!

  What had just happened? Fuck!

  He knew what had just happened, and that wasn’t supposed to happen. Taking a virgin, no way, yet that was exactly what he’d done. He’d taken her virginity, punched right through the thin membrane of her purity. This, he had not anticipated. He brushed her hair back and searched her face through a haze of disbelief. His body shook. His shaft throbbed with need and his sac felt as tight as a drum.

  Too late. She was his now.

  She’d always be his.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  She refused to look at him.

  Her eyes were tightly closed and silver tears tracked down the corners, wetting her hair.

  “Please,” she moaned. “It’s what I wanted, but it hurts.”

  “Ssh…sweetheart, it’s done. I’m inside you.” He brushed his lips tenderly against her temple. “It’s over. I’m all the way in. It won’t hurt anymore,” he soothed. “That’s right, honey, take it easy. Take a deep breath. Relax.”

  He continued to whisper soothing words until his body trembled so hard he couldn’t bear not moving any longer. He rode the narrow edge of release. His brain triggered the urgent need to finish. He clenched his teeth. He’d waited, damn it! Pleasured her first, but now his body had demands of its own.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  And he didn’t know what she was asking. If she was asking him to pull out, something he knew he couldn’t do because any movement from him was going to trigger his release, or finish. His gut twisted with the pain of holding back for so long. His balls throbbed. Jesus. His thoughts splintered his mind in a jagged, foggy haze.

  He couldn’t do this.

  She was asking him to stop. He knew it and it was way too late. He drew a deep breath, shuddered. He’d never in his life forced a woman to have sex. He wasn’t about to start with this one.

  Then he heard his voice, the sound husky and somewhat shaky, as if from a long distance. “I’m so damn sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you. I’ll stop. Just give me a minute. I need a minute, darlin’. I can’t—”

  He choked. His words broke off, because suddenly it was all right. She stroked her hands over the sweat-slick muscles of his back and urged him deeper inside her. “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m okay.”

  Thank God.

  A rough sound tore from his throat. His arms shook violently. His mind roared with a red-hot haze of maddening urgency. Yes, thank God, because he knew, he knew, he’d never be able to keep his word.

  He set a rhythm. His big body pounded against her smaller one. Her hips lifted to meet his powerful thrusts. Yes, everything was all right. It was all right. He’d made it all right for her.

  His breath escaped in harsh, ragged bursts. Roughly, he lifted her slender hips to take more of him. Her inner muscles rippled, adjusted to the full strength of his deeper thrusts, and then tightened hotly around him. Moaning, he shuddered convulsively with his powerful release.

  “Jesus,” he said and buried his damp face against her throat, his breathing harsh. Then in one fluid motion, he rolled from her and flung an arm across his eyes.

  She was so very still beside him and—fuck! She was crying.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “God damn it! I don't believe this!” His chest rose, heaving with anger.

  She flinched beside him.

  Disbelief filled his voice. “I didn’t know. It never occurred to me…that you…that…a virgin…” He choked out the last word, his words trickling to a halt. “If I’d known, I would have gone slower, easier.”

  She remained silent.

  “Say something, damn it! Hell, hit me if you want to. I deserve it.” The sound of her quiet sobs shattered him, stealing little pieces of his soul. “Oh, darlin’, don’t do that,” he begged. “Please. Don’t do that to me. I swear I had no idea.”

  * * * *

  Kaycee tried desperately to stifle her tears. She failed miserably. She’d given her virginity to the man of her choice, but she felt as if she’d lost a piece of her soul along the way, because deep inside, although she’d given herself to him willingly, the decision had still been forced on her by Smitt Davis. She’d always planned to wait, planned to give herself only to the man she loved.

  She hurt. Her insides throbbed. She felt raw—tender—achy. Her heart, her soul, felt just as bruised and tender. But the only words that came to mind were a feeble, “I don’t want to hit you.”

  Then she sniffed, and went back to sobbing.

  “Ssh.” He gathered her in his arms. “Darlin,’ don’t cry.” He cradled her head on his shoulder, smoothed her damp hair from her eyes. Hot tears rained down, wetting his chest. “Jesus,” he muttered, rocking her. “I can’t bear this.”

  Jace stared into the darkness, his eyes burning. Damn it, she had come with him willing enough, trusting as a lamb led to slaughter. He could have done anything to her body, to her, and she couldn’t have stopped him. The thought made him angry. Edgy.

  And it scared the hell out of him.

  He wanted to shake her for being so trusting. He would never have harmed her, not in a million years, but she hadn’t known it, couldn’t have known it. How could she have been so reckless with her life?

  Yet, at the same time, he was ridiculously happy he was the first. She’d
given him something precious—try as he might, he couldn’t regret it. He didn’t regret any part of this night.

  In his wildest imaginings he would never have dreamed it possible she was a virgin. He wasn’t certain if knowing would have made a difference.

  Even now, his body responded to the nearness of hers, hardening as the tips of her nipples teased his chest. He released a deep breath. He could hold her like this for the rest of his life and die a happy man, but there was just no way in hell he could let it lie. Or stop wanting her.

  Slowly, so he wouldn’t frighten her, he cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. “I’m going to kiss you, sweetheart,” he whispered huskily.

  She stiffened. “No. I don’t want you to kiss me.”

  His mouth slid over hers, quieting her protests. “I won’t hurt you, baby. I swear.” Need, razor-sharp, pricked his insides. He moaned and pulled her on top of him. Her soft hair curled around his throat. Her scent surrounded him, filled his nostrils. Each breath she drew sent her hard nipples stabbing at his chest. The ache, the need to have her again blasted him.

  This wanting, this need, puzzled him. Jesus. He was so lost and he was very much afraid he’d never find his way back to normal again. He lifted her up, and then slowly brought her down, allowing the tip of his cock to part the satiny folds. He gave a deep sigh. He was home, there, inside her warm, moist sheath.

  She groaned as he slowly filled her body.

  “Okay?” he asked quietly. He felt her nod. She clung to him when he rolled with her and brought her beneath him. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. Just let go.”

  He bit her nipples gently, then soothed them with his tongue. He settled himself deeper inside her, stretching her, filling her to the hilt. Her eyes widen with surprise, the deep purple softening to shades of twilight as he set a slow pace.

  “Better this time?” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her mouth.

  She traced his lips with a trembling finger. “Better,” she said sweetly.

  Jace gritted his teeth. He’d go easy with her if it killed him. He moved, nearly withdrawing, then plunged slowly, deeply inside her, teasing and tormenting both of them, until he thought he’d explode with need. He fastened his gaze on her mouth.

  “You are so lovely,” he said, amazed he could string two words together that made sense. He drew her closer, took her mouth, and explored the silken sweetness within. He’d never tire of kissing her, touching her. He’d never get tired of feeling her warm muscles clamped around his cock, milking his shaft.

  Hearing her soft moans fill his throat as he melded his mouth with hers, well, he’d never get his fill of that either. The feel of her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him deeper, made him want to shout with victory. Then she gasped, slid her arms over his shoulders and came apart in his arms.

  He let go of the rigid control he’d maintained and rode her as wild as any stallion rides a mare. “Jesus H. Christ!”

  He shuddered and pumped his semen inside her. “Sweet,” he whispered. “You’re so damned sweet.” He rested his head against her breasts and felt like laughing. He’d swept her along with his climax. He knew very well she’d unraveled again and climaxed. Her insides shuddered around his cock like tiny pinpoints of explosions. His breath escaped in ragged wheezes.

  Jesus, he couldn’t remember sex ever being this good. He couldn’t move. Not just yet. He could only hold himself inside her and wait for his scalding release to burn itself out and he wondered if he was totally insane. What the hell was he doing?

  And why had he done it twice?

  He never took risks. Except this once. Twice.

  Dear God, nothing, nothing like this had ever happened to him. It was incredible. Beautiful. He felt sated. Content. He couldn’t ever remember feeling completely satisfied before. Slowly, he withdrew from her and turned to bring her into his arms, cuddling her close.

  She curled up against him and sighed. He brushed his lips against her hair, smoothed a thumb tip along her shoulder. He couldn’t stop touching her, stop caressing her skin. She stirred, opened her eyes and watched him.

  “No regrets?” she asked softly.

  “None,” he replied.

  She blinked, then closed her eyes, too exhausted to wake completely.

  Jace shook his head. She was too full of raw tequila to worry about consequences. He wished he had the same luxury, but he didn’t.

  She gave a tiny sigh and drifted into contented sleep. He didn’t have the luxury of doing that, either. He knew exactly the risks involved, and it rang to the tune of billions.

  Chapter Seven

  Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It’s perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we’ve learned something from yesterday.

  ~The inscription on John Wayne’s headstone

  Penthouse Floor

  Saturday 8:00 a.m.

  Jace stepped through the doorway to Duel’s office and frowned. His brother was noticeably absent. Why was he not surprised?

  Duel was never where he needed him to be and never answered his phone or in this case, his pager. For over a year now, it had become almost impossible to connect with his brother. Something was going on with him, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Damn it, he was sick and tired of his catch-me-if-you-can games.

  For a moment, he allowed the savageness of his mood to sweep over him. He should never have left her alone this morning. Not even long enough to take the shower he desperately needed.

  When he stepped back in the bedroom, it felt as if his heart and soul drain out of him. He stood there frozen and stared blankly at the empty bed. Gone! She was gone.

  Vanished without a trace.

  He’d felt odd, as though his insides turned to grease and melted away. An aching hollowness remained where his soul once dwelled.

  His mind screamed she couldn’t be gone—but his heart gave into the reality of the fact. As swiftly as she’d entered his life, she’d exited from it. He searched every one of the suites on the penthouse floor. Ripped open every door, but she wasn’t there. She simply walked out and left him. The chill that iced his soul would never go away, not until he found her.

  The numbness he felt at discovering she’d deserted him left him feeling anesthetized. Eventually, the pain would catch up with him again, but right this moment—he felt utterly betrayed, lost and alone in a haze of darkness.

  Christ, how could he have been so careless? Too much had happened between them. How could she go without so much as saying goodbye or at least leaving a note? He’d meant to talk to her, assure her he’d take care of everything, take care of her. The only thing that lingered in the bedroom was the faint smell of violets mingled with the unmistakable musk of sex. He had nothing of her but the sweetest memories a man could wish for, and the combs he’d tucked inside his shirt pocket.

  Studying them now, he held one up to the sunlight shining through the window. “Sonofabitch!” He gave a low whistle and turned the combs over and over, inspecting them closer. They were the type and style of hair ornaments women used once it became fashionable for them to have their hair uncovered. Victorian, he’d guess, and in pristine condition, pure ivory, with six round gems that sparkled with brilliance.

  He drew in a deep breath. Shock spread over him, through him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such flawless diamonds. He frowned. And they were diamonds. He was almost certain they were genuine. He had a feeling these particular gems met the 4 C’s of diamond standards—cut, color, clarity, and the carat weight to make them unbelievably valuable.

  Did she know?

  He snorted. Hell, of course, she knew—they were her combs. Kay. She’d told him her name was Kay. No last name. No address. Nothing. Hell, he didn’t even know for sure if Kay was her real name.

  Why hadn’t he paid more attention, closer attention to what she wrote on the paper?

  Why hadn’t he concentrated in learning more
about her?

  Because he’d thought—believed—he had more time.

  It hadn’t been important.

  No, it hadn’t been important, because he’d been thinking with his dick.

  He swore under his breath. He’d find her. He had to find her. She was his.

  First, he had to find out who she was. It’d certainly help in the grand scheme of things. He bridled the forceful energy urging him to run right out and try to locate her, an impossibility he accepted. He had no idea where to begin.

  Easing his big body in the black leather chair behind Duel’s desk, he exhaled. He stretched his long legs across the length of the massive mahogany desk and crossed booted feet on top of the pristine papers littered there.

  Maybe Duel knew her. He kept videotapes on hand. He might be able to identify her from when she entered the casino last night.

  A thoughtful frown settled between his dark brows. He swore softly. He had to find her. The lady definitely had a problem in the selection of her friends.

  And her selection of a drink, tequila, for Christ’s sake!

  She’d been snockered by the damn stuff. He suspected she was a lot more intoxicated than he even realized. He bet she was still smashed this morning, under the influence enough that he was sure she still didn’t need to drive. Shit. What kind of jerk did that make him?

  He frowned, the kind who’d taken full advantage of her drunken state.

  Yes, he’d taken full advantage of it, and it had been the most beautiful night of his life.

  And the worst.

  Kissing her. Touching her.

  It broke his heart when she wept in his arms. He had the feeling she’d cried over much more than the loss of her virginity to a stranger. But making love with her—Christ Almighty! It was fantastic.