by S. Layne
My body is primed by the time I reach Donovan’s room.
I don’t know what it was exactly—maybe the tone in his voice. Maybe it was the heated stare that left no room for arguing when he looked at me in the living room that had me moving and heading up the stairs without even thinking about denying him.
The kiss earlier, the feel of his body against mine on the couch, has left little room for doubt as to what will occur in his room.
I brush my hands down my thighs as I stand in his doorway, hesitant to enter despite the pleasure I know awaits.
Donovan was my first.
He is the man I’ve compared every man to since then, and I know this, even if I haven’t admitted it to anyone. And probably never will.
I hear his footsteps behind me.
Feel him moving closer.
Sigh as his hands press against my hips, and he pushes me into his room.
He doesn’t speak, but I follow his silent commands. He slowly turns me around, drops his hands, and takes a step back.
His arms cross over his chest.
My pulse thrums along my skin, igniting it, and I lick my dry lips.
“Take off your clothes.”
My gaze meets his and my lips part.
His seductive voice excites me.
“What about you?” I ask, as my fingers find their way to the hem of my shirt at my waist.
Slowly, I cross my arms, grip the shirt, and pull it over my head, dropping it to the floor.
I watch as his eyes drop to the swell of my already needy, heavy breasts before he returns to meet my nervous gaze.
“I have wanted this moment, wanted to see you naked again, since the moment I climbed out of your bed eight years ago, and I want to enjoy it. Can you say the same?”
I could. If I were going to be completely honest, I’d tell him that I’ve fantasized about him frequently over the years. He might have played a larger, more consistent role in the last week’s visions, but he has never been far from my mind.
Instead, I stay silent. My hands go to the waistband of the black yoga pants I threw on when I got back from work, and I push them down until they pool at my ankles.
Stepping out of them, I watch his eyes roam my body slowly, reverently, as if he’s savoring every inch of my skin.
My hands fall lamely to my sides, my fingers tapping an erratic beat against my thighs.
Donovan arches one brow, holding his stare on my breasts. “You’re not naked yet.”
I swallow, uncertainty and lust filling me equally. I raise my hands and stretch them around to my back, unclasping my bra. The straps fall from my shoulders before I bring everything around to the front. It hangs from a fingertip and I return his arched brow look, teasing him before I let it fall to the floor along with my clothes and my hesitancy.
He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.
And in this moment, there would be no other death that could be as sweet.
Without needing further instruction, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my lacy pink thong, push it down my thighs, and resist the urge to shiver as the soft fabric slides down my heated skin.
This is insane.
Overwhelming.
More powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced, because as Donovan stands mere feet from me, assessing every inch of my body and finding me more than satisfactory, I have never felt more like a woman than I do in this moment.
No one has ever looked at me with such ferocious desire.
I know before he ever steps forward to touch me, before his hand rests on my hip and he pushes me firmly back toward the edge of his bed, that there will never be another man for me.
Because I gave Donovan Lore my heart and my soul almost a decade ago.
And he still owns it.
“You are more beautiful than my memories.”
I flush under his praise whispered in a deep, husky tone.
He braces himself above me, his legs between mine that are spread for him. My hand trails down his arm, feeling his corded muscles beneath his shirt.
“You’re still dressed,” I tell him, tugging on his shirt.
He nods, not looking at me. He seems so far away as his gaze continues roaming my body. Without a word, he removes his dress shirt and my heart flutters when I see him. Finally.
His abs are rippled, his pecs curved and tight. My mouth goes dry at seeing him so perfectly strong. As his hands go to his belt buckle, I watch as he quickly flicks it open, snaps it away, and then unbuttons his pants.
I watch every moment as if it could be the last time I see him naked. My entire body is enflamed, feels as if I’m lying over an open fire. But I want more.
I push up to my elbows to see him, when Donovan’s eyes meet mine.
“I think I’ll leave these on for now,” he says, and drops to his knees.
My breath catches in my throat when he pulls my legs over his shoulder. His lips brush the sensitive skin of my inner thighs and I tremble.
“I have been dying for this, to know what you taste like here.”
With one finger, he slides through my wet folds and I quiver.
“Donovan.”
“Shh,” he whispers. His lips press again my skin and I squirm beneath the delicious sensation. “I didn’t get to do this before.”
I swallow again, losing the words. And then, as his tongue slides through my sex, my hands fly to his hair.
I cry out when he stops and stands up.
Leaning over me, his eyes narrow and with one hand, he holds onto both of my wrists, pushing them into the mattress above my head. “Leave them here.”
“What?”
He nods once and firmly presses my hands further against the bed. “Take what I give you, and trust me.”
I blink and lick my lips. My pussy is throbbing with need, and as Donovan continues holding onto my hands, his other hand cups the area between my thighs. “You’re so hot for me. So wet.”
I nod and try to shift against his touch.
He shakes his head, a wicked grin on his lips. “Don’t try to take what you want, Talia. Trust me to give it to you.”
I don’t know if I can, and he must see my hesitation because he drops his head.
His lips brush against mine and he whispers, “Next time, I’m going to tie you up. You’ll enjoy it, I promise. But for tonight, I want you to stay still. Can you do that?” He pushes back slightly so I can look into his eyes.
I have no idea what’s happening. No idea why I want to trust him more than anything in the world, and even though I can’t, I have no doubt that he means every word he says right now.
Donovan is in complete control.
Slowly, I nod, and receive a full smile in response.
He lets go of my hands with one more warning. “Keep them there.”
I listen.
And then I feel like I’ve been set on fire completely when he bends back down and slides his tongue through my wet folds, returning to concentrate on drawing circles around my swollen clit.
With one hand on my hip, he begins to eat me like a man starving. I can’t push into him and I can’t widen my legs further.
“Donovan,” I cry out, the torture painful and incredible.
“Taste so good,” he murmurs. He slides his tongue the length of my pussy walls, back to my clit, and then he slides it inside. I cry out again, trying to be quiet, but it’s hard as he fucks me with his tongue until my inner walls are clamping around him.
His thumb brushes against my clit. He pushes it and flicks it, and it’s moments before my orgasm ignites in my core and spreads to my limbs.
I fall over the cliff, biting my lip to keep from shouting his name as Donovan continues licking and tasting me.
I’m barely able to catch my breath, my eyes only half open, when he stands up. In one fluid movement, his pants are unbuttoned and they fall down his hips.
His erection springs free, large and thick.
“I want to to
uch you.” My fingers grip the covers of the bed and I don’t move.
He wraps one hand around his thick length and strokes twice. “I want to fuck you.”
I can’t move my gaze away from his cock. The way his hand slides easily up and down his length, his wrist twisting at the base, and the way he pinches himself at the tip.
I want it to be my hands on him. My mouth. I lick my lips and feel my body begin to pulse all over again.
“I want you to,” I tell him, my voice thick. “Please,” I whimper when he slides his cock against my wet sex.
A low groan falls from his lips, and it’s the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.
Stepping away from me, he bends down, and when he stands back up he has a condom in his hand.
A frown lines his features.
With one hand holding the condom, his other wrapped around his cock, I watch every moment with anticipation, knowing he’s going to be filling me…fucking me…just like he’s promised.
“You on the pill?” he asks suddenly.
“Yes.” I nod. I know what he’s asking.
“I’m clean. I promise you. There’s only been—”
“Okay,” I cut him off. Hearing Cassandra’s name would douse cold water all over me, and I don’t want anything to stop me now.
I’ve given in so easily—so quickly—and I don’t care.
With a flick of his wrist, the unopened condom flies to the floor.
“Talia,” he whispers and my eyes snap to his. They’re dark, and he takes my breath away. As he stands in front of me, looking so much like—but more than—the man I remember, I can’t say anything.
He doesn’t say anything else, either, as his hands grip my hips. He tugs me until my ass is hanging off the edge of his bed and then he pushes himself inside me, slowly, one inch at a time, until I’m stretched full of him, and I feel him everywhere.
His head falls back and he groans. “Holy fuck, you feel fantastic.”
“More. Please.”
He slides out slowly and I close my eyes.
“Eyes on me,” he snaps.
I open them, instantly meeting his serious gaze.
“I want your eyes on me as I take you. I want you to know it’s me who’s fucking you.”
There’s no way I couldn’t, but I nod.
Slowly, he begins fucking me. I feel every inch of him as he slides in and out, teasing me until my clit is throbbing when he seats himself balls-deep inside me. I clamp my walls around him as he pulls out and he groans.
“Fuck.”
Then he slams inside of me. I bite my lip as his speed picks up, but I don’t take my eyes off him. His jaw tightened, his fingers digging into my hips, I can’t move at all as Donovan plunges inside me over and over again.
My breasts shake and my knuckles hurt from gripping the sheets.
“Donovan. Please. I want to touch you.” I gasp as I feel another orgasm begin to build.
It’s wild and fast and intense.
“Take it, T. Take all of me.”
I whimper. I am. I’m trying.
“Please,” I whisper. “Harder.”
“Holy fuck,” he groans as he listens to me. He shifts until he’s over me, one of his hands clamps down on my wrists, and the change in position drives me wild.
His balls slap against my ass and his pelvic bone rubs against my clit.
Everything inside me ignites, and I turn my head as my orgasm takes over. I bite down on his bicep to muffle my screams.
“Fuck.” His hips piston faster as he loses his own control, and then he shoves himself inside me, stopping when he’s hit the end of me.
His groans fill the air as he buries his head in the crook of my neck, his own orgasm taking him over the edge.
My heart thunders against my chest, and I feel his beating wildly against mine. I wiggle my wrists and whisper. “Please let me touch you now.”
He instantly lets go, his voice muffled as he says something I don’t understand, but I pull my hands from his and immediately wrap them around his back.
It’s slick with sweat, but I don’t care as I run my hands over his muscles. He’s braced himself above me on one elbow to prevent his full weight from crushing me, but I wish he wouldn’t have.
I want to feel all of him.
“You are incredible,” he murmurs against my skin after our heartbeats have slowed.
I close my eyes, feeling myself revel in his praise.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I respond, not willing to let him know how much I loved everything we just did.
Pushing off me, he brushes his lips against mine. It’s a tender kiss, and I open my lips to allow his tongue to sweep inside. I arch into him, needing more, when I feel him chuckle.
“So greedy. You want more?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
He pulls back, ending our kiss. With one hand, he brushes a strand of my blond hair out of my eyes and smiles knowingly. “I think you can.”
It’s the promise of another round that makes my walls clamp around him and he laughs easily.
“I need a minute to recover,” he says, and pulls himself out of me. “Stay here while I get something to clean you up.”
I nod and brush my lips against his before he stands up.
Lifting myself to my elbows, I watch as his naked body walks to his bathroom, and I take every moment I can to enjoy watching his beautiful ass. When he comes back, I shift so he can clean me up and cringe as he tosses the washcloth onto the floor.
“Gross.”
He pulls me against his chest and settles us in the middle of the bed. “I’ll clean it up tomorrow. I just want to rest with you in my arms.”
“I should get to my own bed,” I mutter, but I already feel sleep beginning to pull at me.
He presses his lips against the back of my shoulder. With his hand splayed on my stomach, he pulls me against him. “In a minute,” he whispers. “Let me hold you.”
I acquiesce, because I can barely move.
In his darkened room, with Donovan holding me in his arms, I close my eyes and fall asleep to the gentle thud of his heartbeat at my back, knowing I’m smiling, terrified and completely at peace.
I roll over, awakening from sleep, and my lips turn down when I find an empty spot in the bed next to me.
Every insecurity from our first night together flashes through my mind, returning to the forefront, and I collapse onto my back. I drop an arm over my eyes and I squeeze them closed, not allowing tears to fall.
He’s left me after the most passionate night of sex I’ve ever imagined. It was more than I’d imagined.
My thighs already ache, a reminder of the way he used my body.
The way he gripped me and moved me.
The way he thrust himself inside me with wild abandon, as if he’d never lost such control in his life.
Neither have I.
Just as the tears begin to fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks, music floats into the room. It’s coming from under the door or the air vents, and it’s not the fact that I hear music playing in the middle of the night that worries me, it’s the haunted melody filtering through my ears.
Slowly, I push off the bed, flinching from the dull pain in my legs, and reach for the first thing I see. Donovan’s white dress shirt is still puddled on the floor next to my side of the bed, so I grab it and quickly pull it on.
I look down at the bed and frown. My side of the bed.
As if I have any ownership to anything in this house except for what I brought with me.
Buttoning the shirt so it covers my breasts, I roll up the cuffs a few times and make my way out of the bedroom.
The music dances up the stairs and I follow the sound, not surprised when I see Donovan lounging in the living room.
What does surprise me is that he’s practically sitting in the dark. The glow from the moon filtering in through the windows provides the only gentle light in the large room.
<
br /> He’s clad in only his black boxer briefs as he sits at one corner of the couch. His head rests along the back, his eyes closed. The fingers of one hand press against his eyes, and his other hand holds a glass full of ice and clear liquid.
He doesn’t move at all as I walk near him, and if it weren’t for the tenseness in his body, I would think he had fallen asleep.
The slow, deep, rhythmic melody filling the large room sends shivers down my spine.
“You okay?” I whisper.
His hand falls from his eyes but nothing else changes as he raises his hand, beckoning me.
I go to him, take his hand in mine, but he pulls back until he runs his hand across the back of my hip, lower, and then cupping my ass. He pulls me toward him until I’m standing in front of him, my legs straddling one of his knees.
“I should be asking you that,” he replies. His eyes are still closed and his head is still resting on the back of the couch.
I keep my eyes on his face, my breath hitching as he lifts my knee and rests it on his thigh.
“Your skin is so soft. So beautiful.”
I flush under his praise, my body already awakening from the gentle brushes of his thumb against my inner thigh.
He moves higher and I gasp as he slides his thumb along my slick flesh.
Slowly, his eyes open, barely, and he looks at me through hooded eyes. “Did I hurt you earlier?”
I shrug. “A bit, but I can take it.”
His thumb presses against my clit, rolls around it. My lips part, inhaling a quick breath.
“Bruised?”
I shrug again. I have no idea. I ache all over my hips and my waist from where he gripped me forcefully.
“Unbutton the shirt.”
His command sends tremors straight to my swollen folds. His fingers join his thumb in his teasing assault on my aroused skin. He brushes along the outside lips, then inside, outside again…giving hints at what he wants to do to me but not following through.
It’s insane how crazy he can drive me, how fast my body responds to his touch.
My fingers quickly undo the buttons on the shirt and I drop my arms to my sides, letting the shirt drape open.
Finally, he opens his eyes. They immediately roam my exposed skin.