An Inconvenient Obsession

by Natasha Tate

  A hot blush fired her chest, contracting her nipples into hard points beneath the constricting white lace of her bustier bra. His fingers returned to her breasts and soon, her bra joined her corset on the floor. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes glittering as he explored her bared chest. “You’ll always be beautiful to me, Cate. Always.”

  Shivers rode her skin as she stood half-naked before him, and the sheer force of her will kept her arms at her sides.

  His eyes never left hers as he lifted his hands to trail along her rib cage, his fingers exploring the quivering tightness just beneath the final rung of bone. He then proceeded to unfasten the clasp of her skirt, lowering the zipper with a soft, snicking rasp. She swallowed repeatedly, shifting her weight clumsily as he lifted first one leg and then the other to divest her of skirt, panties and hose. He brushed her hip bones with his knuckles and then moved farther north, skimming her abdomen, her ribs and her inner arms.

  She felt faint when he leaned to whisper soft, indecipherable nothings against her temple and his hands drifted up and back to her tense shoulder blades. She gripped his shirt and closed her eyes, unable to feign strength when he wandered perilously close to her damaged flesh. Holding her breath, she dipped her forehead against the knobby knuckles of her thumbs and waited, apprehension mounting behind her closed eyelids. With gentle tenderness and unexpected mercy, he skirted her naked back in favor of her hair. Threading his fingers through the slippery strands, he shook the cool length down her spine.

  She shuddered, grateful for the temporary reprieve. His fingers skimmed her downturned jaw, then Ethan tipped her face up and aligned his lips with hers. He feasted on her mouth with a deep kiss that made her tremble. Made her want to weep. Her nipples grazed his crisp cotton tuxedo shirt while he adjusted the fit of their mouths. The fit of their bodies.

  Her lips parted to welcome his demanding tongue, and he took advantage of her acquiescence, sealing her mouth with a dizzying combination of heat, moisture and drugging suction. He drove his tongue deep, delving the warm depths and dancing an intoxicating rhythm against her tender flesh.

  She whimpered when his free hand dropped to chart the length of her spine. The ridges of her scars burned beneath his touch and he murmured soothing sounds into her mouth before detouring to the rounded shape of her buttocks and left thigh. Gripping her hip, he nudged her backward and up, stopping only when she felt the rigid swell of his erection tightly contained within his pants. He rocked against her, forcing her to acknowledge his burning eagerness to join with her.

  A small sob caught against her throat and she ripped her mouth aside, gasping for breath. Giving her no time to retreat, he lifted her until she tipped above his hand, one knee cocked high against his hip while her buttocks pressed securely against the edge of her bed. Grappling for balance, she looped her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes as his fingers slowly parted her, stroking the intimate flesh.

  Cate trembled involuntarily as he slid one long finger inside her, a low moan escaping her lips. He bent to reclaim her mouth, quieting her with another kiss. Helpless within his arms, she undulated against him until he answered the demand of her body with a second, then a third finger. Yes, she breathed silently, hard shudders of pleasure mounting. More. She wanted Ethan with every cell of her body. She wanted to feel him everywhere. Inside, outside, until all the empty spaces were filled. Until she felt whole again.

  He lifted her until both her legs clamped around his waist, fitting the ridge of his clothed erection against the damp notch above his fingers. Slowly, the delicious friction heated her sensitive flesh. The pleasure built, driving higher, intensifying until the lazy, unfaltering rhythm became too much. She felt herself tightening, throbbing, reaching for that bright moment of release. His lips claimed hers again, his tongue mimicking the motion of his fingers and hips, flooding her with a poignant ache. Oh, Ethan … “Ethan!”

  “Shh.” Ethan lifted his head and his fingers slid free just as the rocketing longing neared its peak. “Hold on,” he whispered while she trembled against him.

  “I can’t,” she managed, her breath coming out in thin, thready filaments of need.

  His finger mapped the taut line of her jaw. “You can. I’m going to keep you on the edge until you accept how much I want you. Still. No scar can ever change that.” Ethan lowered her to her feet and then slowly turned her stomach toward the mattress before gently pushing her shoulders toward the bed.

  “Oh, Ethan, please don’t,” she said, twisting miserably in an attempt to block his view of her mutilated back.

  He ignored her protests, catching her flailing arms and pulling them taut until she lay stretched out before him. With one quick shift of his hands, he manacled both wrists between his fingers and thumb. Still clothed, he dragged his free palm over her bared back, skimming the rigid bumps and quivering valleys of her scars while humiliation scalded her lungs.

  It was the worst place he could have touched her, smoothing his warm palm along the most damaged part of her body, the part that kept her from feeling like a true woman. Icy dread flooded her, and she buried her burning eyes into the unforgiving mattress so she wouldn’t see revulsion mar his beautiful features. “Ethan,” she moaned, as the insistent heat of his fingers continued to press and probe, drawing shivers from her sensitive flesh. “You don’t have to—”

  “Stop talking,” he said gently, then he dipped his head to silence any additional complaints. Warm lips pressed against the base of her spine and then slowly moved higher, nuzzling her wounded flesh in tender, coaxing acceptance. His mouth and tongue touched each sensitized track of pain left behind by her surgeries, stroking and petting her as her insecurities gathered and crested. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her nape before reaching to rub the swell of her buttocks in small, soothing circles. A thumb drifted up to press against one of the twin dimples at her lower back, then he dropped his forehead to rest quietly against her crooked vertebrae. “All of you, whether it’s scarred or not,” he breathed.

  When a whimper formed her only response, he gently rolled her to her back and ordered her to open her eyes. A violent blush scalded her chest as she miserably shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

  “Look at me,” he insisted, forcing her palms away from her cheeks. When she finally acquiesced, he stepped from between her thighs and tore at his clothing until he stood before her, naked and rampantly aroused. “Does it look like I want you any less than I did before?”

  Wordlessly, she shook her head, her throat thickening with unshed tears.

  “I’ll always want you, Catydid. No matter what.” Tenderness softened his features as he bent between her knees and then spread her thighs wide with his hot, commanding palms. “Always.”

  Biting back her moan, she relaxed her legs and arched her weeping center toward his mouth. White light claimed her vision as she felt his hair brush her inner thighs, then spun into colors as he dragged his tongue along her exposed skin. Small, nibbling kisses teased her, then became greedy as he probed deeper. He sucked, long, dragging pulls against the musk-scented opening of her body while her senses narrowed to heavy, thudding awareness of his mouth against her flesh. Again, she neared the flashpoint of rapture, pleasure and aching pain mingling as she teetered precariously at the edge. He drew back slightly and blew a cool, teasing exhalation against her abraded sex, then dipped to toy with her again.

  Excruciating, exquisitely light strokes made electricity surge along her thighs, behind her eyelids and deep within her core. She arched toward his mouth, lifting, pressing and begging him with ragged, panting sounds.

  When she thought she could bear no more, he withdrew again. “I want you,” he repeated. With his gaze locked on hers, he straightened to stand naked before her. A tightly muscled chest, covered with a smattering of crisp black hair, and his long, knotted arms bore mute testimony to his tempered strength. “Tell me you believe me.”

  Unwilling to lie, she hid beh
ind an upflung arm.

  Stepping close again, Ethan slid his palms beneath her buttocks and tipped her tender flesh toward him. Her breath hitched as she adjusted to the sensation of his skin against hers. “Tell me.”

  She squirmed to bring him closer, hooking a leg around his buttocks and tugging hard.

  Still, he resisted, drawing out the torture of their almost-joining until she whimpered.

  “Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with focused intensity. His hard, lean limbs, damp with sweat, the startling width of his shoulders and chest and all the lovely places where hair-roughened skin stretched over hot, twitching muscle brought a swell of emotion to her chest.

  “Tell me, Cate.”

  She lifted shaking fingers to the tight muscles of his abdomen. How could this beautiful man still want her? How? Tears blurred her eyes and her breath escaped in a great, shuddering rush. “I believe you.”

  Thick lashes fanned against his cheek and he bent to press his forehead to hers. “Thank God,” he answered on a gruff exhalation. He surged forward, pushing her back on the bed and then joining her there, his knees pressing her thighs wide. Leaning down, he caught her mouth with his while his hand lowered to guide himself inside her.

  Delicious pleasure rocketed through Cate as he filled her, sliding deep until they aligned, hip to hip and groin to groin. They gasped in mutual pleasure as the contrast of soft against hard, of driving pressure against yielding acceptance, formed an achingly sweet union of their flesh.

  Cate dragged her hands down Ethan’s back, the taut muscles flexing beneath her fingers, while he clutched her hips, holding her fast as he pounded into her with savage, rhythmic thrusts. “Don’t doubt me again,” he told her between ragged breaths.

  She trembled greedily against each slick, powerful lunge, and whispered against his demanding mouth. “No.”

  Ethan’s eyes glittered with emotion. “I’ve never stopped wanting you … ever.” A moan rumbled in his chest as he stiffened, the rush of release pushing them both toward the peak.

  And then they reached it. Tumbled over the edge.

  Afterward, pressed snugly beneath his sweat-slicked chest, desire and longing and relief twisted into a knot of emotion too big for Cate to contain. Try as she might, she couldn’t stem the tide that swept through her, a bright, shimmering wave of emotion so fierce she could scarcely breathe.

  Unable to contain the rush of feeling, it spilled over into tears, taking all of her defenses with it. Her chest ached. Her throat hurt. And she felt exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. Her lungs burned with the intensity of it.

  Gasping, her eyes brimmed anew as wet, sloppy tracks of tears channeled down her temples and into her ears. Distressed by her lack of control, she dug her face into his chest and tried to hide. Messy and noisy, embarrassed and bereft, she fought in vain to silence her great, gulping sobs.

  “Cate.” His voice, strung tight, plucked against her heart while he started to withdraw from her.

  “Don’t go!” she blurted, pulling him back with legs, arms, hands and feet. “Don’t!”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he soothed as he settled back against her and then rolled them both onto their sides. She felt his hard, unyielding body against hers while one wide hand smoothed her hair back from her face.

  Too overwhelmed to thank him aloud, she merely nodded while shuddering sobs racked her ribs. Hot tears leaked down her cheeks, and she couldn’t stop them, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t. And her vulnerability terrified her.

  She’d kept everything inside for so long, kept her heart and her emotions and her pain walled off from the world, that now that the dam had broken, there was nothing she could do to repair it.

  “Hey,” he said, rubbing one hand over her quivering belly. He reached her hip and rolled her onto her side against him, murmuring an anguished plea against her hair. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

  She mumbled a tortured no.

  “Then what?”

  How to explain? He’d been as wonderful as he’d always been, despite all the awful things she’d done to him, despite the wretched condition of her damaged body. She didn’t know how to defend herself against the onslaught of feelings he invoked. “I’m sorry,” she gulped, the words wrenching out in a distressed moan. “I don’t know why I’m crying like this.”

  “It’s okay,” he crooned, pulling her even closer. Warm fingers trailed down her back, navigating the bumps and scars along her spine as he slowly rocked her against his chest. He held her as she wept, until she felt wrung out and empty. When she sniffed and swiped a wrist below her swollen eyes, he cupped his hand over her damp nape and whispered, “It’ll be all right, Cate. I promise I’ll make it all right.”

  She believed him. Despite all her fears, despite her doubts, she knew that with Ethan, she would be safe. So she nodded jerkily and hauled in a hiccupping breath. Lifting her tear-streaked face, she leaned to press her mouth to his throat. “I know,” she said. “But will you convince me again?”

  He obliged her without preamble, taking her lips in a long, sweeping kiss. His tongue gently abraded hers, sending delicious tremors through her limbs. With infinite skill, he probed and caressed and stroked until her tears dried and her mind reeled. Dizzying, languid pleasure seeped through her, the responsive ache collecting deep within, echoing against her hip, where he’d become hard again. Sighing, she arched against him and pulled him closer. Together, they rolled, her calf hooked around him and his weight settling atop her.

  A low moan escaped her throat as she felt him adjust her pelvis and then enter her, until she had accommodated every inch of his length. She lifted her hips and her eyelids fluttered closed, trying to draw him closer while a consuming hunger ate its way through her flesh. Her breath hitched, hung, then rushed out in a grand rush as he slowly withdrew and then lowered against her again. Harder this time. Deeper as her body welcomed him.

  Their twined fingers moved to her hips as he lifted and pulled her against him. Again and again, she writhed to seat him farther inside. The sweet craving for release increased sharply, gaining momentum with each advance and retreat. Every delicious lunge, thickening and hardening within the channel of her body, intensified the pleasure until she could contain the rapture no longer.

  Convulsing against him, she arched uncontrollably while his name tore from her lips. Ethan silenced her pleas with a low growl, his mouth claiming and containing hers until his own release ripped a raw grunt from deep within his chest. He pulsed violently against her quivering flesh, his thighs flexing hard atop her limp limbs.

  Spent, they remained fused together for an endless, breathless moment, their bodies clinging intimately. Cate didn’t want to move ever again. Her eyelids felt weighted, too heavy to lift. A protest hummed in her throat when she felt him ease sideways onto the bed, his softening length slipping free as he adjusted her legs and tucked her body against his.

  “Better?” he mumbled groggily, his grip on her waist slackening.

  Nodding wordlessly against his chest, she listened to the steady thudding of his heart as he drifted off to sleep. Clutching his broad rib cage, she realized Ethan had claimed more than just her pride and her virginity and her secrets. He’d claimed everything. Her trust, her hopes and her dreams for a future that could never be. She’d surrendered them all to him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CATE awoke to find afternoon’s light slanting across her bed and floor. It took less than half a second for her to remember that she wasn’t alone, and one additional beat of breath for her to feel the heat of Ethan’s gaze upon her profile. Knowing that the beautiful, virile man of her dreams now lay beside her, sated from their lovemaking and watching her, sent a flutter of nervous awareness through her belly.

  He made her feel beautiful again. And for a moment, watching him bask in the slanted afternoon sun, she could almost believe that it would be enough. She could almost believe that her oth
er scars, those buried too deep to see, wouldn’t matter.

  But she’d be wrong.

  Don’t borrow trouble, she heard Mrs. Bartholomew’s voice say. Just take it one day at a time.

  There’d be time enough for second thoughts tomorrow.

  Today, she’d live for the moment. She’d steep herself in Ethan and collect beautiful memories for the bleak, lonely days ahead. She’d savor the time she had with him before reality came crashing back. Before they both remembered the reasons things could never work between them.

  So she eased back to look at him, propping her head upon her upturned hand. Rumpled from sleep and with the warm yellow light softening the harsh planes of his face, Ethan looked like some pagan god brought to life. Like the boy she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

  He looked impossibly young. Accepting and open. And beautifully, wonderfully naked. Cate’s eyes drifted back to his. They glinted with amused blue fire, framed by a thick fan of lashes. Black stubble cast shadows on his jaw and neck, and he’d canted up on one elbow to watch her, his chin resting indolently against his palm. The long bulge of his biceps merged with the swell of deltoid and shoulder, giving way to the slope of his neck and the dent of sternum sprinkled with black, curling hair.

  Tentatively, she reached to brush her fingertip along the ridge of sinew below his wrist. Her touch turned featherlight as she traced the faint blue line of vein to his palm, to his chin, down to the knot of masculinity in his throat, then farther south to the springy thatch of hair on his chest.

  He remained utterly still as she ventured farther, his breath suspended as her fingers drew nearer to the impressive ridge of arousal heating the space between them.

  His eyes darkened to cobalt when she reached her destination, a low hiss of breath escaping his throat when she flattened her palm against his hardness.

  Before she’d even had time to realize what was happening, he’d flipped her over and pinned her beneath him. Their combined weight pressed her deep into the mattress, making her feel deliciously overpowered. Deliciously dizzy and aroused.