Fitz cupped her head in his hands and kissed her fiercely again, as if testing himself, as if proving that the physical could be split out from anything else that had no business swirling around his chest. He kissed her until his head sparked and his body ached with such intensity it was almost agony, until he was finally convinced he was back on solid ground and it was all about the physical again.
And then he grabbed her hand and led her to the hotel and into the lift, barely releasing her long enough to press the button for the floor before pulling her against him, her back up to his chest, sliding that glorious curtain of hair to one side and dipping his head on the other side to kiss the base of her neck, as she leaned back into him and sighed softly. Perfectly.
* * *
They tumbled into her room. The heavy wooden door, restrained by its soft closing mechanism, seemed to close too slowly for Elle, firing up her sense of anticipation. Then, when it finally shut with an audible click, the weight of expectation that accompanied that soft sound was unmistakeable.
For a fraction of a second she froze. She was in a bedroom, with a stranger—a hot, caring, responsible stranger, given his actions all evening, but a stranger nonetheless.
As much as she wanted to, could she really go through with this?
Instantly—impressively, too, given the evidence of his desire was pressed, hard and undeniable, against her body—Fitz pulled back from her. She was shocked at just how bereft that tiny movement made her feel.
‘Last chance,’ he growled. ‘You can still change your mind.’
His rich, low voice thrummed with barely restrained lust, making her pulse thready and her insides turn molten. She’d never felt so desired and so needy. And the fact that, even now, he was prepared to stop actually boosted her confidence that final little step.
‘I don’t want to change my mind,’ she whispered, running her hands over the muscles that were still frustratingly covered by the material of his shirt.
‘You have to be sure, Elle,’ he commanded thickly. ‘Because after this, I don’t know how much self-control I’ll have.’
A giggle escaped her lips. A result of the heady sensation that she could exert such desire in a man like Fitz. She had no doubt that, despite his words, if he had to stop at the very last second, he’d find the superhuman willpower to do so. But the idea that he could want her so urgently was a potent thought.
Carefully concealing the tremble that threatened to play havoc with her entire body, Elle slid her hand lower to cup the evidence of his need. He flexed under her touch, a rough sound rolling from deep in his throat, the combination doing strange things to her insides.
She didn’t want to talk any more, she just wanted him with such an intensity it was almost frightening.
As if reading her mind, Fitz dropped his mouth to hers, his kiss every bit as demanding, skilful and dominating as it had been in the bar. It seared through her and all she could do was cling to his shoulders and let him carry her through the flames. Again and again his tongue met hers in a slow, sensual dance. Exploring, touching, tasting, breaking away frequently to take detours at an agonisingly delicious, leisurely pace, starting at one corner of her mouth, trailing along her jaw before dipping below and down her neck.
Elle shook in his arms as Fitz sprinkled short, hot kisses along her collarbone and to the sensitive hollow in the centre. He took his time, which both reassured Elle and simultaneously drove her wild. It felt as though they’d been engaging in foreplay from the moment they’d met in that bar and, if she thought about it, it was also more foreplay than she’d had in the past year in total.
It had never been like this with Stevie. Never. Not even in the beginning when everything had been new and exciting, but they’d been so inexperienced, and certainly not at the end when he’d grown accustomed to people fawning over him, too many hangers-on only too happy to please him. Both in and out of bed.
She’d never, in her wildest dreams, thought it could ever be this good. And Fitz was just getting started, but as much as this indulgent approach was setting her every nerve ending on fire, she was ready for more. Much more.
Then he was kissing lower. Elle wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but one moment she was in his arms with both of them fully clothed, and the next they were both naked from the waist up and his skilful mouth was making its way, in a lazily winding path, down between her breasts. He cupped her in each hand, as though testing the weight of her, and then he flicked a rough thumb-pad over one nipple as his tongue played with the other. She cried out, a powerful mix of pleasure, need and relief.
It had been such a very, very long time since her body had been so worshipped.
Raw need throbbed between her legs and Elle actually ached to feel Fitz sliding inside her, filling her, assuaging the yawning void that had unexpectedly opened up in her soul. Vaguely she became aware of some part of her syrupy brain struggling to extricate herself, to warn her.
If it had succeeded, it might have reminded her that this was supposed to be about sex, that it had been about proving to herself that her lack of sexual experience hadn’t been the problem—more like Stevie’s abject failure to keep it in his pants. As it was, that logical side to her brain was drowned out while Elle was lost to the moment, lost to Fitz’s touch, lost to her own body’s primal reactions. She couldn’t think past the hot, urgent, intoxicating sensations that were cascading through her, much less think about her ex-fiancé. She couldn’t even think enough to move them to the bedroom itself; instead they stood in the vestibule, her back still against the wall to the adjoining room. To move might mean breaking contact, something she couldn’t bear to do. And so Elle stayed in place, her fingers tracing that incredible physique and marvelling at the way it reacted so urgently to her touch.
Over and over he paid homage to her body, his skin slick against her, his hands expertly working their magic and stoking those internal fires until she was sure she couldn’t wait any longer. As if reading her mind, Fitz’s fingers trailed over the curves of her belly, down to the waistband of her low-slung trousers, and unzipped her in one smooth action before peeling the leather down over her legs.
Glassy-eyed, Elle shucked them, along with her heels, fully expecting Fitz to stand back up to resume where he’d left off. Instead, he stayed where he was, his fingers tracking up her leg from her calf to the sensitive hollow behind her knee and then sensually caressing her inner thighs. Never rushing, always taking care, inching his way upwards with incredible control.
‘Are you getting pleasure in torturing me?’ Elle gasped at last.
‘A little.’ His devilish voice sounded thick with need and the ache between her legs intensified. ‘Just as I know you’re getting pleasure from me torturing you.’
‘Fitz...’ She barely recognised her own voice in the strangled plea.
‘Hmm?’
He was doing it deliberately, she realised. Teasing her.
‘Something you wanted to say, Elle?’
His fingers were there, one more caress away from touching her where she needed him to. One inch higher. She waited, only to realise he’d stopped.
‘Elle?’ he prompted huskily.
He was going to make her say it.
But of course he was.
‘Fitz...please...’ She shifted so that his fingers should have come into contact with her.
He was too quick.
‘I want you,’ she managed self-consciously.
Their interaction, his teasing, it was all so much more than she was used to. And while there was no doubt that she preferred it to the mechanical routine with merely a few grunts as a soundtrack, she still wasn’t quite sure what to do with this exhilarating, all-consuming side of sex.
‘You want me to touch you?’ he questioned wickedly.
‘Fitz...’
‘Like this?’ Without warning he swept a
finger over her.
A mere brush over the lacy fabric of her briefs, but it sent shockwaves crashing through her. She gasped, squirmed, sought him out again, but his hand was gone, sliding around to cradle her backside.
‘Or like this?’ he murmured.
Before she could process what he was doing, she felt his breath on her skin and then his mouth.
Hot. Urgent. Terrifying.
Elle’s entire body went rigid, her eyes focussing as she pulled desperately away.
‘I don’t... I don’t do that.’
She could barely bring herself to look at him, crouched down there, and when she did she wished she hadn’t. He was frowning up at her, his eyes locking with hers, scanning, assessing, disbelieving. Like she was some kind of...freak.
‘You don’t do that?’
Elle jutted her chin out, ignoring the two bright spots of shame that seemed to be burning holes high in her cheeks.
Strangely, though, it didn’t make her want to stop altogether. It didn’t make her want to give up on the idea of a night together. It just made her want to get past this moment, this awkwardness, and get on with the rest of what might be to come.
‘I don’t do that,’ she repeated, agitated. ‘Can’t we just...move onto something else?’
‘Why don’t you do that?’
Direct but firm, he clearly wasn’t going to take any excuses. But, then, Elle wasn’t about to give in either.
Images of Stevie crowded her head, making her feel hemmed in. She could count on the fingers of her two hands the number of times he’d done that for her in their entire time together, and always hurried, clearly resenting it, and only ever so that she would do it in return. And his attitude had meant that she, in turn, had hated it. The feel of his hands tight on the back of her head, keeping her on him even when she wanted to move away, the way he’d groaned how good she was just to give himself the excuse that he hadn’t had time to pull back at the end.
When she’d hesitantly told him she didn’t like that, he’d played the guilt card, claiming that he missed her, that her career took her away too much, that she’d never have become a doctor but for him. So she’d done it, and quickly she’d decided it was too painful to go through the charade of him pretending to do the same for her. But she carried the shame of it with her, even now.
Especially now. She couldn’t tell Fitz any of that. She didn’t want to be that person tonight. She wanted to be the new Elle, the version of herself that she’d decided should be born the moment she’d finally had the courage to walk out of the only relationship with a man she’d ever known. And she wanted to keep this perfect image of Fitz. The way he touched her body and set off fireworks inside her very core, not the way he would change once he gave her cursory attention and then expected her to service him in return.
‘I don’t like it,’ she offered at last, when his piercing gaze refused to let her off. She licked her lips uncomfortably. ‘Can’t we just go back to where we were before?’
‘You don’t like it?’ he said, his scepticism clear.
Elle sighed. She couldn’t hoodwink him, he’d never fall for it. She’d have to offer him something more. Enough truth that he would believe her, not so much that she humiliated herself.
She sucked in a deep breath.
‘In the past I didn’t like it. It...it wasn’t very good.’
‘Ah...’ he murmured, the hard stare instantly softening into something else.
For a fraction of a second, Elle relaxed.
‘But you will enjoy it with me,’ Fitz declared. ‘I can promise you that.’
Before she could move again he hooked her leg over his shoulder and pulled the scrappy fabric to one side, then, locking her in place with his hands on her backside, Fitz simply licked a path to her undoing. Pure, molten heat coursed to Elle’s core. With every practised stroke of his tongue, bubbles of fire exploded in her. Still, his rhythm kept on as though he knew exactly what she needed. As though he enjoyed giving it to her. As though he enjoyed her.
There was no earthly way she could bring herself to move away again and though a faint voice warned her that she would pay for it sooner than she would like, Elle finally let go of her fears and gave herself up to Fitz’s unhurried but unrelenting pace. Expertly bringing her to the brink once. Twice. Then the third time, when she was so wound up with pent-up need, he finally slid his finger deep inside her, his mouth sucking on the very centre of her ache.
Elle fragmented. Her fingers sliding through his hair, her hips bucking of their own accord, she lost herself and cried his name. And still Fitz didn’t stop, driving her on again and again, sending another explosion rolling through her entire body. Finally, when she couldn’t take any more, he eased back and stood up again, his gentle caresses assuring her that they weren’t done yet.
By the time Elle finally started to come down from the incredible high he’d just gifted her, reality had started to kick in. He was going to expect her to return the favour. Part of her knew she would be expected to, but another part of her wanted to hold onto this perfect moment for a little longer. Hold onto the image of a perfect Fitz a little longer. Generous. Unparalleled. Untarnished. She couldn’t bear to see him change into Stevie right before her eyes.
Too bad, she owed him. Right?
‘Still want to tell me you don’t like it?’ he asked mildly, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth. As though he wasn’t waiting for her to perform her new duty.
She felt the flush from her cheeks to her very toes.
‘That was like nothing I’ve ever known before,’ she croaked.
Which was why she really shouldn’t begrudge him.
Elle forced a bright smile to her lips as his head bowed to kiss her neck, ignoring the sensations that were flooding through her anew. Placing her hands flat on his chest, she moved him away and dropped down to her knees, her hands searching for his belt buckle as she went.
‘What are you doing?’
His voice was sharper than she’d expected. She forced a pleasant, even tone to her words.
‘Returning the favour.’
‘No.’
Elle startled as his large hands locked tightly around her wrists and he pulled her back to her feet, forcing her to look at him. His dark look was intimidating.
‘But you did it for me.’ She frowned uncertainly. ‘So now it’s my turn.’
‘That isn’t how it works, Elle.’
She stifled her derision.
‘Of course it is.’
Fitz couldn’t seriously be saying he didn’t expect anything in return. No man would, right?
‘I don’t know how your past relationships—relationship—worked, but that isn’t how it should be.’
His clipped tone caught Elle by surprise, making her insides flutter. Who exactly was he angry with? He was almost glowering as he stared into her eyes. It was as though he could see right into her soul and she found she couldn’t drag her gaze away. The moment seemed to stretch out into eternity. Finally he broke the silence.
‘Sex should never be a chore, Elle. You do things because you want to. You don’t do them because you somehow feel you owe the other person.’
It was astonishing how his words seemed to go straight to the root of her fears.
‘But—’
‘No. There are no “buts” to that simple truth.’
‘You don’t...?’ Elle swallowed, still not quite certain. ‘You don’t want me to do that for you?’
‘I do not,’ he confirmed firmly. ‘Not when you don’t want to.’
‘Part of me does,’ she whispered sadly, almost by way of apology. But she was surprised to find that abruptly there was a small part of her that really did want to. She dropped her eyes, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to say the words if he was still holding her gaze.
‘Because it’s you.’
Unexpectedly a soft smile chased the darkness from Fitz’s face as he hooked a finger under her chin to force her to look back up at him.
‘Then I hope for you that one day someone, the right guy, will make more than just a part of you feel that comfortable. But for now I suggest we move over to that bed and I show you other ways we can continue this evening.’
His words were bitter-sweet. The realisation that he really wasn’t going to allow this one moment to spoil the rest of the night warred with the reminder that he wasn’t her right guy, he was just her one and only tonight guy.
When had she started to forget that?
She managed a jerky little nod, reminding herself not to get so carried away for the rest of the night, ignoring the voice that whispered that Fitz might have been the ‘right guy’ for her if only she’d been a few months, maybe a year down the road.
The right guy but at completely the wrong time.
‘Elle?’
Snapping her head back to the present, she tried to remember the last thing he’d said. Something about moving to the bed to continue their evening.
‘I’d like that,’ she managed.
With a satisfied nod Fitz dropped his hand from her chin and then, before she could react, he’d taken her hand and was leading her over to the bed.
‘Then let’s get back to having fun.’ He grinned wickedly at her, lowering his head to hers and kissing her as though the ugly moment had never happened.
Incredibly, the further they got from that vestibule and towards the huge inviting bed in the corner the more her mood started to lift. By the time he’d deposited her on the bed, Elle found it easy to kiss him back, some underlying sense of relief lending her a renewed sense of eagerness. As he stood back to finally slide her lacy briefs down, shucking off the last of his own clothing after discreetly throwing a foil square onto the bed, Elle indulged in her first full view of his beautiful physique. He had a stark male beauty that spoke to her very core. And then there was his proud and impossibly generous erection. Her heart flip-flopped and hunger kicked low in her abdomen. Urgent and primal. He was overwhelming, yet he was staring at her as though she was equally breathtaking. As though he were committing every line of her body, every curve to memory.
Tempted by Dr. Off-Limits Page 5