by Alexis James
I know I should go slow, take my time with her, but my only thought is chasing the orgasm that’s been eluding me for months now and feeling her body explode around mine. Pulling back, I slam in hard again and her stuttered moan tells me this is what she wants. She wants to be claimed by me.
I continue to thrust harder, deeper, working her up again until her fingers are tearing into my flesh, and she’s wiggling beneath me trying to get as close as possible. And between the sounds of our bodies slapping together and noise from the street below, she thrusts her breasts up and begs me to fuck her. Sweet, shy, timid Mia begs me—loudly—to fuck her.
The moment I comply, driving us both fast and hard until the entire bed is shaking with the force, she explodes into orgasm, coming so hard she can’t even scream; all she can do is shove her face into my chest and groan low in her throat. Her slick walls grip me tightly, pulsating through her release, sending me over the edge, growling out her name into the soft silkiness of her hair.
Our lips meet again, tongues meshing and lips searching, and even though I’ve just had one of the mightiest releases of my entire life, I can feel the need to start round two almost immediately. She must feel the same, if the internal squeeze she gives me is any indication. And when she reaches for my hand and eases it to her breast, there’s no more wondering if she’s ready. She’s telling me she is.
With a groan, I slide from her body and roll to my feet. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Temptress that she is, she shoots me a grin and drags her thumb over one nipple. “Hold that thought.”
I retreat to the bathroom, make quick work of disposing the condom and dig out a handful of packets from my bag, silently wondering if the five I have will be enough. Now that I’ve had a taste of Miss Mia Elliott, I plan to spend every spare moment deep within that gorgeous body of hers. The thought alone makes me hard all over again.
Good girl that she is, she did exactly as I instructed. She’s still sprawled across the mattress, legs wide, teasing me with her pink wetness. Her thumb continues to trace slowly over her distended flesh, and I consider that I could simply stand there watching her and be satisfied.
“I want your mouth on my body,” she whispers.
I grin down at her and trace her instep with my finger. “Anywhere in particular?”
She shakes her head. “Everywhere.”
Pressing my lips to her ankle, I reply, “I think that can be arranged.”
By the time I work my way up to her lips, her skin is damp with sweat, and she’s shoving me onto my back and straddling my hips. She hands me a condom and once it’s in place she grasps me tightly and eases me into her body. Fully seated, she lifts up slowly, then slams her hips back down, finding the perfect rhythm.
Transfixed by the woman above me, I can only watch as she tips her head back and closes her eyes, arching her back as she rides me. Reaching up, I cup both breasts and tease her nipples into fine peaks, which earns me a healthy moan from low in her throat. The sunlight picks up the golden streaks in her hair and covers her olive skin in a warm glow, and I’m eternally grateful that we’re doing this in broad daylight, instead of hiding behind the shadows of night. This vision above me is one I won’t ever, ever forget.
Gripping her hips, I surge up when she comes down, again and again and again, until she groans out my name as she explodes on top of me. Watching her come is intoxicating, mouth open and begging, eyes rolling back in her head. Her fingers reach for mine, nails digging in as wave after wave of emotion threads through her body. It’s only when she lifts hooded eyelids to gaze down at me in wonder do I find my own release, shouting out her name and surging repeatedly into her warmth.
Mia slumps down on top of me, face buried in my neck as she says something unintelligible. I’m too spent to even speak, too wrecked to even wonder what she might have said. I can only hold her tight, attempt to steady my breath and shove aside the uneasy feeling of emotion that swells to life. Now is not the time to be contemplating how I feel about her, especially since I’ve quite literally run from commitment my entire life. Now is the time to enjoy one another and to enjoy this trip together, regardless of the fact that we’ll be working for most of it.
Mia sits semi-upright and eases her long wavy hair over one shoulder, throwing me a wicked smile. “Now that was delicious.”
Grinning at her, I trace my thumbs over her nipples and reply, “Glad you approve.”
She sobers and her head tilts slightly. “Can I ask you something?” At my nod, she continues. “Is it just me, or do you feel like doing this for hours?”
Chuckling, I pull her down and drop a kiss on her lips. “I’d be content not leaving this bed for days…” my hands slide down to grip her ass “…but we do have some work to accomplish. Eventually.”
She offers me an adorable pout. “Okay. If we have to.”
I give her a kiss. “No work until tomorrow. Right now, I want you all to myself.” Tracing my fingers over the soft skin of her shoulders, I give her a gentle shove. “Let me get rid of the condom, and then I’ll give you another ride on my tongue.”
Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Um … okay.” She rolls off me and falls onto the mattress.
Chuckling, I fuse our mouths together again. “Why are you so embarrassed all of sudden? Minutes ago you were touching yourself and begging for me to put my mouth on your body.”
She glances up at me. “That’s different.”
Unable to understand her reasoning, I get to my feet. “No it’s not. But in case you’re wondering, there’s no need to be embarrassed with me. By the time we leave here Sunday, I’ll have tasted every inch of your body. Repeatedly.”
Her cheeks redden again, but she can’t hide the satisfied smile or hint of need that settles in her eyes. “Okay.”
Standing at the bathroom sink, I splash water on my face and risk a glance in the mirror. Gone is the heavy weight of grief that I usually see in my eyes; now it’s replaced with a satisfied look only Mia can take credit for. The beautiful temptress has worn me down, capturing my heart in her hands so completely I should be concerned. Somehow, during all our ups and downs—the arguments, the silence, and the tears—somehow we’ve managed to fight past it all. And while I believe that my history will continue to be an issue, for me and for her, this is the first time in years I’ve been willing to accept the fact that maybe it is okay for me to love again.
“Oh God, Cruz … please … please. I need to come,” Mia begs, hands pressed flat against the wall as I grind my mouth between her legs. We’ve been at this for hours now, have christened many surfaces in my hotel room, and worked steadily through the stack of condoms—with only one remaining. Even though I’m bone tired, I can’t seem to keep my hands off her.
Lifting my head, I growl, “Not yet. Not until I’m inside you.” Then I flick my tongue against her clit as a form of sweet punishment, which sends her begging once more.
I somehow manage to get the condom in place while servicing her then right when she reaches the precipice, I pull away and get to my feet. She’s swearing at me, grumbling her frustration, when in fact I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s come since I first touched her. Like me, she’s greedy, insatiable, and so far willing to do anything I ask. While I’m still baffled she once thought of herself as frigid, it’s clear that I’m the teacher in the bedroom.
Turning her to face the wall, I urge her legs apart and slide in deep. Thank God I talked her into putting her heels on, otherwise this would be more awkward than it is. Our height difference is a challenge at times, but I’m more than willing to make adjustments when necessary.
“Hold on,” I urge, gripping her hips tightly and starting a furious pace. She welcomes it, and me, with a mighty groan and a tilt of her hips against mine. We move together like trained dancers, every motion in perfect sync. I pummel into her repeatedly, easing one hand around to tease her with my fingers.
This time she screams out her release, and I�
��m quick to silence her with my palm and thrust harder. God … the things I’ve imagined doing to her have doubled since the first moment she stood bare before me. Just the idea of that makes me impossibly harder as I reach for my own release. She sighs when I remove my hand, and when I grasp her hair in my fist, she whimpers, “Oh God, please don’t stop.”
Mia’s entire body has been gifted to me and her response to my touch is remarkable. She’s come alive here in this room that’s now dimly lit by the moonlight, quickly learning what her body likes best and trusting me to take her as far as she can go. And I intend to take her far, to all those forbidden places, pushing her to the extreme each and every time.
“Come for me, belleza. Now.”
And come she does, only this time there’s no screaming, just a whispered “oh God,” when she starts to tremble and grip me like a vise. With one more deep, painful surge, I growl my release into her neck, her name on my lips.
My vision blurs as I thrust twice more, emptying myself in her and wondering yet again if this can get any better. It’s not possible, I think as I gather her against my chest and feel fatigue nipping at my heels. I’ve lost track of time but am well aware that we need to sleep at some point. I’ve got a full day of meetings scheduled for tomorrow and as much as I’d prefer to remain deep inside of her for the remainder of our trip, that’s sadly not an option.
“How is it possible that this just keeps getting better and better?”
I grin into her hair. “Because it does.” My hands cup her breasts, and I swear I can feel her body respond again, though I have no idea how that’s physically possible. “As much as I’d love to do this all night, we do need to sleep.”
Right on cue, she yawns. “I know. But I just love the way your hands feel.” She places her hands over mine and glances at me over her shoulder. “Promise me that when we wake up, things won’t change.”
I understand her fear. Hell, I’ve got a good dose of that running through my veins too. The idea of going backwards is not appealing at all, but being with her like this again and again most definitely is.
“I promise.”
There’s a part of me that would give anything to make her numerous promises. But there’s another part that is still running scared. The same part that reminds me all too often what happened the last time I allowed a woman to get this close. Even though Mia’s is the only face I see when I close my eyes, the worry is still there nonetheless. The last thing I’d ever want to do is cause her more pain or damage her gentle heart in any way, which is why I’ve tried so hard to stay away from her.
“Let’s go to bed,” she whispers, turning to face me and pulling me down to kiss her.
When it ends, she wobbles on unsteady feet to the bed, kicks off her heels, and slides beneath the sheets. I join her after shedding the condom and setting the alarm, gathering her against my chest and breathing in the clean scent of her hair.
I might not be ready for this, but I sure as hell can’t deny how right it all feels, especially lying here with her in my arms falling asleep together. Taking it one day at a time is the only way I can be with her without letting the guilt and grief consume me like it always has. I owe it to Mia to give her all that I’m capable of, but sadly I owe Dani more. Reaching a good balance between the two will be challenging, but there’s no way in hell I’m walking away from Mia now. Not after she’s given me herself repeatedly and unselfishly. Mia deserves my best and that’s exactly what I have to give her.
The sound of a pain-filled groan pulls me from a dead sleep. Blinking myself awake, I turn toward the sound and find Cruz curled up next to me. His brow is furrowed and it’s clear that he’s struggling through some type of nightmare, at least if the way he’s thrashing around is any indication. He groans again and sweat breaks out all over his exposed face and torso. The dampness on his skin glistens in the moonlight.
With a gasp his eyes shoot wide open and for a moment I’m not fully convinced he even sees me, especially when he raggedly whispers, “Dani?”
My heart tumbles as I respond softly. “No, Cruz. It’s Mia.”
He swallows thickly, blinks a few times, then rolls onto his back and swipes his hands down his sweaty face. Long, silent moments go by. Then he whispers, “Sorry.”
Not sure if he’s apologizing for the nightmare or for the fact that he whispered another woman’s name, but I offer a nonchalant, “You don’t need to apologize. Are you all right?” I attempt to reach for him, but he quickly rolls to his feet and strides into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
A glance at the clock tells me we’ve only been asleep a few hours. I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, and right now I don’t need to be fighting off the demons of his lost love. I need to be curled up in his arms, listening to his heart beating next to mine, listening to him breathing softly. But as I hear the shower turn on, I have my doubts about whether or not he’ll even come back to bed with me.
Sitting up slightly, I consider hiding behind the sheet and immediately cast that idea aside. Timid, shy Mia is now on hiatus. Bold, new Mia will gladly sit here with her breasts bare, just to give the man something to think about other than whatever it is that haunts him.
I think I knew from the beginning that Cruz was deeply troubled, tormented by a past I can’t even begin to understand. Fragile heart aside, he’s the most skittish man I’ve ever met. Though to be fair it’s not like I have oodles of experience where men are concerned. Yes, I’ve learned a few things along the way but realizing now what I settled for before was so incredibly mediocre, I have to wonder where the hell my head was. Having now experienced the power and attention that a real man can show in the bedroom, I have a hunch I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the real Cruz Moran. He’s a puzzle, a complicated, brilliant man who I’ve fallen for completely. I am his, and he doesn’t even know it. I’m sure he thinks this is just a bit of fun for me, when the real truth is I’m just as terrified as he is—only my fear stems from believing he won’t stick this out, that he won’t hang in there long enough to quiet those fears of the past and give me a chance to love him like he should be loved.
When he eventually strolls into the room, his face is a careful mask of nondescription, but his eyes tell a completely different story. There’s sorrow there, and guilt too, and I’m happy to see a thread of need once his eyes settle on my bare chest.
“Are you coming back to bed?” I give his body a good once-over, marveling yet again at the beauty he keeps hidden beneath his expensive black suits. He’s drool-worthy, with that picture-perfect chest, rippling abs, and slim hips. I could quite literally stare at him for hours and still that would not be enough. I have to wonder if that makes me desperate or just very, very greedy.
He hesitates briefly then slides beneath the sheets and props his head up under his arm. He doesn’t pull me close or look at me, and I really do try not to take that personally. But as the minutes pass, I can feel him slipping away and going right back to the cold, reserved man he once was long before we entered this room and became two wholly different people. That’s a place he’s used to, a place he’s comfortable with, I reason to myself. This closeness with me, from all he’s alluded and from the few things he’s mentioned, is anything but normal. No wonder he’s freaked out.
“Tell me about Dani.”
His eyes shoot to mine. “How do you know her name?”
Frowning at him in confusion, I realize he must have been more disoriented than I originally thought. “You said her name when you first woke up. Don’t you remember? You thought I was her.”
He curses under his breath. “Christ. I’m sorry about that.”
Long minutes pass with neither of us moving or saying a word. He continues to lie there, staring up at the ceiling, and I only look directly at him. I’m well aware that if I can’t get him talking, I might as well get dressed and leave. There is no future for us if he can’t trust me with his secrets.
“Please talk
to me. Tell me about her.” My fingers roam through his silky hair. “Tell me something.” My voice drops to a whisper. “You can trust me.”
He shoots me an apologetic smile. “Ah, babe, I know that.”
My other hand gently caresses his chest, teasing the dark hair, stroking over each well-defined muscle. “You loved her?”
He nods. “I did. A long time ago.”
“Fifteen years ago?” He closes his eyes and nods again. “What happened to her, Cruz?”
“She died.” The pain in his voice is tangible, and I fully expect him to shove my hands away and tell me to leave. Surprisingly, he does just the opposite, tightly gathering my hand in his. “I can’t … I can’t really talk about it. Can you understand?”
No. “Of course. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Somehow I don’t believe he’ll ever be ready to willingly hand me that information, but I still have to try. I’m not about to give up on him, not after all we’ve been through. I hope he knows that.
Cruz glances over at me. “It might never happen, Mia. I need you to understand that.”
I shrug. “I’ll try. I won’t like it, but I will try.”
“Come here,” he says, pulling me into his arms and pressing his lips to my forehead. “Go back to sleep, querida. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Rolling over, I kiss him softly and snuggle down against his chest. As my eyes close and I feel myself slowly start to drift off, I think about the past he refuses to speak of. I have hundreds of questions that will most likely remain unanswered, but there’s only one that keeps repeating in my head over and over. Will he ever be able to love me the way he loved her?