by Stewart, JM
She stared at him, all those childhood insecurities swelling to life. She should turn around and walk away. What she contemplated was dangerous at best. This man had been her sister’s lover, and the doubt demon inside her head insisted all Dillon could possibly want from her was sex. He didn’t want her. Men never did.
Dillon pushed away from the counter, his gaze hot and intense. He slipped his hands onto her hips and tugged her against him. All those awful doubts flitted away. Heart pounding, every inch of her came alive with the feel of him pressed against her, from her breasts against the solid wall of his chest to his hard thighs against hers. The undeniable swell of his arousal pressed into her belly and her breath caught. Heat flooded her, each point of contact setting her body ablaze.
“You don’t owe me anything.” His voice was thick with need. His head dipped down, but his mouth hovered out of reach, like he waited for permission.
“A bet’s a bet.” Fisting his T-shirt in her hands, she pulled herself closer, lifting onto her tippy-toes to close the miniscule space between them. She wanted him the way he seemed to want her. Just once, she had to taste him one more time, to feel the power of his passion. Then she’d let him go.
Dillon let out an agonized groan, crushing her against him. He claimed her mouth, his kiss hungry, possessive, demanding. His tongue delved inside, flicking against hers, coaxing it to respond. His body trembled and his heart pounded in time with her own.
She wound her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in the thick, silky locks at the back of his head and slanting her mouth over his. God help her, he tasted unearthly. No man had a right to taste this good—hot, wet and heady, with a hint of mint on his tongue, and she wanted more. Wanted all of him. She needed to feel the passion she’d only ever experienced in his arms.
She moaned with the exquisite pleasure rocketing through her, and white-hot need exploded between them. His hands slid up her sides and began tearing at the buttons of her blouse, hers already sliding under his T-shirt, pushing it up. He paused, stepping away long enough to yank the garment off over his head. It barely hit the floor before his hands were on her again, moving to the button on her pants.
When his hands shifted down, reaching for the button of her slacks, an awful memory flashed like lightning in her mind’s eye. In the span of a heartbeat, she was back in that darkened car, her arms pinned above her head, helpless while her attacker tried to pull off her pants.
Shaking, acid rose up the back of her throat. She caught Dillon’s wrists and wrenched her mouth from his, fighting a near-overwhelming urge to shove away from him altogether and run like hell. This was Dillon. He’d never hurt her. Knowing that, didn’t stop the panic from seizing her chest in a vice grip that refused to let go.
“Not so fast.” She sucked in a deep breath. Her breathless voice trembled. “Please.”
Dillon’s hands paused and he pulled back, confusion and concern puckering his brow. “You okay?”
She shook her head, her voice already starting to wobble. “I had a bad experience once.” She felt like a fool, a child, but prayed he’d understand. Fear stuck in her chest, refused to let her breathe, and she couldn’t stop shaking.
He studied her, his dark eyes moving over her face, and then his jaw tightened. “Somebody hurt you once.”
When she nodded, embarrassment heated her face.
Regret and torment filled his eyes and he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “God, I hate that thought. Do you want to stop?”
“No. No. I want this. I want you.” She wanted fear to stop dictating her life, to experience passion. She wanted it with him. “I trust you. I feel safe with you. I just…I need to go slow.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. His expression softened. “I’m going too fast and it scares you.”
She hated admitting it. Hated it still had that effect on her, but nodded nonetheless. “I’m nervous.”
“Come on.” He took her hand, pulling her behind him into the living room. Once there, he took a seat on the sofa and patted his lap. “Sit with me.”
She climbed onto his lap, sitting sideways on his knees, and he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. His arousal pressed into her bottom, hard against his zipper, but he didn’t otherwise move, didn’t demand anything more. Rather, he stared into her eyes, for so deep and so long she lost herself in the infinite depths.
Finally, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “You’re in control of this. When you’re comfortable with me again and you want more, you let me know. If you don’t…” He shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll just sit here and I’ll get to hold you for awhile. Okay?”
She could only stare at him. The gesture quickly overwhelmed her and tears sprang up before she could blink them back. More grateful than she had words, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”
“Better?” His arms tightened around her, drawing her closer.
“Yes.” She nodded and kissed him again. She was nervous, but he was just Dillon again and she was safe in his arms.
He leaned in and slanted his mouth over hers, his kiss gentle and unhurried. His lips explored hers slowly, like he had all the time in the world to do only that. Never once did he push or ask for more.
He kissed her until a quiet yearning pooled deep in the pit of her stomach, making her ache. Until she felt brave enough to show him how much she wanted him. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she shifted to straddle his thighs and pressed her breasts into his chest.
A low groan rumbled out of him, and his lips left hers, leaving a shivery path of fire as they trailed across her jaw and down her neck. He stroked his hands down her back to cup her bottom and pull her tighter against the hard ridge of his erection.
She moaned, pleasure sliding through her.
Wanting to pleasure him the way he did her, she slid her hands over his chest, flicking her fingers over his tight nipples. A long, low growl rolled off his tongue and his body trembled beneath her hands, sending a delicious little thrill zipping along her spine. Knowing she could affect him to such a degree made her feel powerful. The heady sensation went to her head in a rush, increased her desire, and made her ache and tremble with overwhelming need.
“I want to feel all of you.” She whispered against his mouth and reached for the buttons on his jeans.
He pulled back, his heavy-lidded eyes so hot she feared she was going up in flames. “You sure?”
She gave an eager nod. He groaned again and claimed her mouth, his tongue slipping along hers, slow and sensual. His hands cupped her bottom again and he rose from the couch. Lifting her like she weighed nothing, he walked them down the hallway, and into his room.
There he laid her on the bed. She opened her eyes, watching the inferno blaze in his. Her heart skipped when he settled his weight over her. It was an exquisite sensation, the heaviness of his body pressing her into the mattress. She slid her hands around his ribcage, wanting to be closer, to feel every part of him.
He paused and simply stared down at her. She had the same superb sense she had on the phone with him all those nights. A sense of closeness, of intimacy. It flowed between them, soft yet intense. Time could have stopped for all she cared. He kissed her again, his mouth moving and skimming across her jaw and down her throat. He left a trail of fire across her skin, his touch slow and lazy. He moved down her body, seemingly caught between removing the clothing that was in his way and exploring each piece of her that was revealed.
He left her trembling with need, with an exhilarating sense of freedom. She was free from the fears that had haunted her forever, free to indulge in her body’s desires. Here, with him, she was safe, and the sensation only reinforced the rightness of the moment.
When the clasp between her breasts popped free, Dillon pushed the material aside. She shrugged out of her shirt and bra, tossing them to the floor. She settled back on the bed again. His palms slid around the outside edge of her breasts, warm and soft, and he dragged his th
umbs across her aching nipples. She gasped, arched her back, offered herself to him, and he obliged. He bathed first one taut peak then the other, until she gasped with pleasure, before moving, kissing his way down her stomach.
His hands gripped the waistband of her pants and tugged them down her hips. She tensed, an image flashing in her mind. Something he must have caught, for he paused and lifted his head. One look at the tender concern in his eyes and the fear flitted away.
“I’m okay.” She slid a hand into his hair.
He gave her a gentle smile. “Anytime you want to stop, just say the word.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Good.” He bent his head and flicked his tongue over her quivering belly, just above where she ached to feel his touch. She whimpered, arching toward him. He slipped her pants and underwear down and off.
The soft shush of fabric drifted to her when the rest of her clothing joined the pile on the floor. He moved over her, his warmth and solidness settling against her side and brushed a tender, lingering kiss across her mouth. His hands skimmed down her stomach, her thighs. She whimpered, breathless, and wriggled against him, desperate to feel his hands on her, to feel him touch her where she ached the most.
When his fingers finally slipped between her silky folds, she cried out, her hips coming off the bed when a wave of pleasure washed through her. God she didn’t know it could be like that, to feel a man’s touch, so exquisite, so much pleasure she wanted to burst with it.
“Easy, sweetheart.” His mouth nuzzled her sensitive earlobe, her shoulders, licking and suckling her flesh. His fingers continued their dizzying assault. She clutched at the quilt beneath her and matched the slow, torturous rhythm of his hand. The sweet tension gathered and tightened. When he raked his teeth over her nipple, then drew the peak into his mouth and sucked hard, she was lost. White-hot pleasure ripped through her, the tension tightening and releasing at the same time in a series of bursts. She gasped, turned her head, and buried her face in his chest, riding the delicious waves.
Dillon continued to caress her until the quaking that wracked her body dwindled to tiny tremors, until the haze began to fade from her mind.
“Don’t move.” His fingers slipped from her, his breath hot and ragged, his voice gravelly with need.
When his warmth left her side, she pried her heavy eyelids open in time to see him rise to his feet. Standing beside the bed, he towered over her, heat blazing in his heavy-lidded eyes. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small silver packet.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. Once naked, he stood over her for a moment, letting her look. Her stomach did a giddy little flip-flop, her eyes roaming, soaking in the sight of him. Wide shoulders and a broad chest tapered to a well-defined abdomen. Lean hips and powerful thighs, sculpted muscles that rippled with each tiny movement. He was beautiful, and she loved looking at him.
He sheathed himself then returned to her, an inferno blazed in his eyes when he crawled up the bed toward her. Doubt pounded through her, fear prickling at the back of her mind. Was she really ready to do this? Ready for how this would change their relationship? For how it would change her?
The doubts flitted away, left her mind on a soft, ragged sigh when he finally settled over her again. Warm skin hit warm skin, and the tip of him nudged her entrance, made her achy and restless all over again.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” His soft lips brushed her earlobe then feathered down her neck, across her shoulder, making her shiver with need.
“Yes.” Her acknowledging whimper faded to a soft moan when his heated palms skimmed down her hips and cupped her bottom. In one long, powerful thrust, he filled her to the hilt. She bit her bottom lip and tried to prepare herself. Pain slipped through her, and she couldn’t contain her choked cry.
With a quiet, panicked curse, his head snapped up. Brows drawn together, his dark eyes searched hers, first in fear then in slowly dawning shock. “You’re a virgin.”
She met the accusation in his eyes, and her heart lurched. “Don’t stop. I couldn’t bear it if you stopped now.”
She shifted her hips against his, to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of fullness, to entice him and divest them of the tension that suddenly spanned the miniscule space between them.
It felt right to be with him this way. She hadn’t saved herself for him intentionally, but she was glad it had been him. No matter what happened after this, she wouldn’t ever regret this. She couldn’t bear it if he wanted to stop now.
His eyes fluttered closed, a look of pure torture crossing his chiseled features. The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest rippled above her, tightly strained. He drew a ragged breath and expelled it slowly. The sound hissed out between his clenched teeth.
“Please, don’t stop.” She shifted again. This time, he moved with her, eased in deeper, and filled more of her. Her body slowly adjusted, and the pain melted away. Such an exquisite sensation, his hard body molded to every inch of hers. She’d never known how intimate it would feel, to be joined so wholly with someone. They were a part of each other now.
His eyes opened, heavy-lidded, and hot. He shook his head. “I won’t stop. I’m not sure I can.”
Something softer, more tender, more intense, lingered deep in the depths of his eyes. Worry?
He confirmed the thought when he leaned his forehead against hers. “I really wish you would have told me. I would have been more careful, taken it slower.” He pressed his mouth to hers, lingering over her lips. “Next time it won’t hurt like that. I promise.”
Would there be a next time? Did she want there to be?
That thought sent heat slipping through her belly. She did and she knew it. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clung to his heated body, and molded her mouth to the curve of his throat, relishing the salty taste. She murmured against his skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
She moved in slow circles, the tiny movement jarring something deep inside. She shivered with heat, with the beginnings of pleasure. The low groan that slipped from his lips echoed the sentiment. He dropped his head into the curve of her shoulder. His body remained taut, the muscles tightly strained, when he began to move within her. With infinite control and patience, he rocked against her in an exquisite, slow rhythm that built the delicious tension low in her belly all over again.
Somewhere in the midst of it, his head lifted, his torso separating from hers. Cool air washed over her heated skin. The shift concentrated the delicious pressure in their hips, where their bodies joined, and wound the pleasure to near unbearable heights. His eyes locked on hers. He slid his palm down her belly and over her hip. Slipping between them, he found her still throbbing core and massaged it.
In an instant, the sweet tension spiked again and she curled her fingers into his flesh, intense pleasure bursting through her in endless waves. Above her, Dillon stiffened and jerked, a soft curse slipping from his lips on a long, low groan when he found his own release.
Holding his weight on his elbows, he dropped his head into the curve of her neck, his breathing harsh and ragged against her skin.
How long they lay there she didn’t know, but the longer they lay together, the more she wanted to stay there. Guilt rose to choke her. She could make all the excuses in the world, but she couldn’t escape one fact—this man had been her sister’s lover. She’d willingly given herself to him, with little care for the consequences, to how it would change their relationship. Panic swelled within her. She had no idea what happened now.
How could she regret this? She’d had certain expectations of what her first time would be like. Her near rape in high school had turned her against the idea, made her afraid to try, for fear every man would be the same. Dillon surprised her. He was patient and gentle, more concerned with her pleasure than his. He made her first time something she’d remember forever. It had far exceeded
her expectations.
She’d denied herself this simple pleasure for too long—the power of a physical connection. Dillon opened the floodgates. The man made her yearn for things she hadn’t ever thought possible, things she’d been too busy to notice were missing. Love. Passion. For once in her life, she did something not in the plan. Shouldn’t she be allowed one point of selfishness, one moment in time all for herself?
What she expected to happen after they made love, she didn’t know. Maybe the softening of her emotions, of having shared something so intimate with a man she’d known most of her life had addled her brain. She expected…something sweet. Soft sighs. An exchange of tender, conspiratorial glances. Laying together, still joined, limp limbs still tangled, separated only by a thin sheen of perspiration, the muscles beneath her palms slowly tensed again.
He finally lifted his head and slid off to her side—distinctly not curling against her or enveloping her in his embrace—and pinned her with that accusing stare again. Her heart lurched, and she found herself caught between the expectation of it and the disappointing reality of actually seeing it in his eyes.
“You should’ve told me.” His brow furrowed. Panic screamed from the depths of his eyes when he sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.
“You regret it.” She let out a heavy sigh, surprised by how much it hurt to realize.
He drew in a deep breath and dragged his hands through his hair. “No.” The word left his mouth on an expelled breath. “But I have to be honest. I’m not in the market for a serious relationship. I’ve told you that.”
She froze, unable to believe her ears. He had to say that now? Of all times? They were still naked, for crying out loud. She wasn’t asking for any of that, hadn’t expected it, but he threw it at her nonetheless. Reminding her of her place in his life. Which only made her feel used. Tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.
What had she expected? Dillon was a self-proclaimed bachelor. A man determined to stay that way. He told her so himself.