“Jamie,” he protested.
“Hmm?”
“This is not a good idea.”
“Why? You had your hands all over me.”
“I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”
Her thumb came around to the front of his thigh, rubbing at the tension in that muscle, sliding through the tightly curling hairs that covered his legs, teasing again. He had visions of that hand sliding higher, learning everything there was to know about his body. Or, if that wasn’t possible today, stroking him to satisfaction.
It wasn’t what he wanted for their first time. But he was starting to crave any bit of completion they could find together.
“Get in the tub,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, winning another smile from her.
He studied his options for a moment. The tub was bigger than most. But either way, this was going to be a cozy fit. He wanted to have his hands free, to be able to reach as much of her as possible, and he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, too.
“Can you slide forward a little?” he asked, sitting on the side of the tub, pivoting and using his hands, until he had a leg on either side of her and he could slide into the water behind her.
When he was leaning against the back of the tub, he put his hands on her shoulders and helped ease her down into the water until they got her hair wet. She sat up straight, her head tilted back just a bit, and he admired the delicate shape of her neck and her back as he worked the shampoo through her hair, careful to stay clear of the bruise on her temple.
“Mmm,” she said. “That feels so good.”
He helped her back down into the water again, worked the soap out of her hair, then eased her back against his chest, until she was sitting between his thighs. He had her head against his shoulder, both his arms around her, holding her gently. He was afraid she was still uncomfortable. But the way she sank back against him, so trustingly, so willingly, the way she let herself go limp in his arms and nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck told him that she wanted this as well. That she needed him.
He was going to give her whatever she wanted tonight.
He would indulge her, pamper her, spoil her. Whatever else happened between them, he intended to own her, body and soul. To brand her with his hands and his mouth and his entire body—as his.
She’d certainly left her brand on him. He would indeed smell like her, all over. It would likely make him crazy tomorrow, walking around smelling the scent of her on his skin, but it didn’t matter. His senses were on overload already. How much worse could it get?
He was touching her completely now. Her legs pressed against the inside of his, her bottom snugly against his groin, his erection nestled against the fleshy part of her bottom he’d once held in his hands. Closing his eyes, he realized just this would have been enough for him. He’d wanted so long, wanted so intensely that he could just let go, right then, and at last ease the overwhelming tension building inside his body.
But he didn’t, because this wasn’t about what he wanted. This was about her and anything he could do to make her feel better, to take her mind off what she’d been through. He wanted her to know he was here for her, that he was going to take care of her, if she would just let him.
He slid his arms around her waist, keeping the touch deliberately light, seeking out the worst of the soreness along her ribs so he knew which places to avoid.
“Here?” he asked, finding a spot for his arm and hand. “Is this all right?”
“Uh-hm.”
He just held her for a while, with her head on his shoulder, his mouth against her forehead, lining the side of her face with little, teasing kisses. Next he found the soap, lathered it in his hands, started at the tops of her shoulders then moved along her collarbone, to her neck. She arched her neck, her chin going up, her head leaning back against him.
It felt so very good to touch her. Her skin was luxuriously soft and smooth, like satin. He wanted to cover every last inch of her, to map her body by touch alone.
“I have never, in my entire life, wanted a woman as badly as I want you right now,” he confessed, letting his slick, soapy hands find her breasts.
He took the weight of them in each of his hands, held them gently, felt her nipples pucker up and turn hard, for him. He teased them with the pads of his thumbs, told himself when he got her out of this bathtub, he would put his mouth on her breasts, tasting them, rolling her nipples around with his tongue. He could make her come just from that, just with his mouth and his hands.
She moaned, her head turning, her mouth seeking his. He shifted her carefully to one side, so he could fit his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply and as gently as he could. One of his hands was still on her breast, still holding it, memorizing the feel of it. The other slid lower along her belly, the delicate muscles contracting all along the path he took. He found a patch of curls that no doubt matched the raven strands of hair on her head, and his hand slid lower. Her thighs parted for him, and with one finger, he teased at the opening he found, as he kissed her desperately, greedily.
She moved her hips against his hand once, twice, learning the limits of what her body could take, tensing against the pain. He backed off instantly.
“I’m sorry, babe. I know you’re not ready for this. I had no intention of taking things this far.”
He removed his hand, letting it rest against the delicate soft skin of her belly.
“Don’t stop,” she said, taking his hand in hers and pushing it lower. “I’ll be still, and it won’t hurt. Really. Just don’t stop.”
“Jamie,” he protested.
“Don’t stop.”
His hand slid deeper, teasing again, feeling her body open up to him. With two fingers, he pushed inside of her, imagining it wasn’t his fingers slipping into her. It would be a seemingly impossibly tight fit. He worried that he would hurt her, that he was hurting her now. But she was so slick, her body heated to a feverish level. He stroked her smoothly, in and out, not letting his body pick up the erotic rhythm with an answering one of his own.
He stayed still, nothing moving except his hand and his mouth, and somehow she did the same, until he heard low, whimpering cries erupting in her throat, until she couldn’t kiss him any longer, could only lie there weakly against him. He felt the muscles in her thighs clenching, tighter and tighter, knew what she wanted, what she needed, but somehow, she managed not to move and trusted him to give her what he could.
He stroked her, in and out, holding himself to an easy rhythm for fear of hurting her. And when she begged him, pleaded with him to end it, when he knew she was ready and that she couldn’t take anymore, he did. Moving faster, pushing his fingers inside her one more time, he took her right over the edge. He felt all those delicate muscles deep inside her clenching around him, felt her entire body trembling, felt it go on and on, and let himself imagine the next time. He would be inside her, the next time.
Of course, this was certainly no hardship, to focus so fully on her and her response. He felt the climax ripple through her as he listened to the sounds she made, holding her as she lay heavily against him.
His own feelings sneaked up on him. His erection was cradled tightly against the sweet curves of her buttocks. He wanted to turn her around, and lift her on top of him. To have her sitting on his lap, her thighs spread apart, so he could slide deep inside her as she rode him, milking his body of every last ounce of pleasure.
Of course, he couldn’t do any of those things, couldn’t let himself so much as move. Then he found he didn’t have to move at all. He was near the edge himself now. Maybe it had simply been too long and he wanted her too damned much. There would be a next time, he promised himself, and he would be inside her.
He groaned, tensed, went absolutely still, feeling like a kid who was all of sixteen and so eager he couldn’t even control his own body. Jamie wriggled her bottom against him, and he used his hand to hold her steady.
“
Be still,” he said, his voice hard and tight.
She did it again, just pressed her bottom against his groin, the pressure absolutely exquisite. He was throbbing heavily; as close as they were, she had to feel it, too.
“Jamie, I swear, if you do that one more time, I’ll...”
“What?” she said, sounding sleepy and satiated and seductive as hell. “What will you do?”
“You’re a smart woman. Figure it out.”
She laughed softly and carefully eased away from him. He should have been relieved, but found himself reluctant to let her go. Then he realized she wasn’t moving away from him. She was trying to turn around—a neat trick given the confines of the tub and the extent of her injuries. “Wait a minute,” he said, his hands at her hips, ready to help her, to guide her.
She turned to face him. Kneeling between his spread thighs, she smiled knowingly at him, and he knew he was in serious trouble. Through the dim light, he saw water running down her body. From the damp ends of her dark hair. Over the delicate bones of her collarbone. Down two delectable-looking breasts. He’d held them in his hands. Kissed them through the thin fabric of her shirt and then through nothing at all. Had seen teasing glimpses of them as they broke the surface of the water when she’d been lying against him in the tub. But he’d never seen them like this, seen all of them, bare and beautifully rounded, dripping with moisture and her pale skin glistening in the dim light, her nipples taut and begging to be kissed.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned, his chest heaving with the effort it took to breathe.
She smiled with that sleepy, sexy look of hers, the one that said she knew exactly what she was doing to him, that her power over him knew no limits, and he wondered how he’d ever managed to resist her all these years.
She leaned forward, her pretty breasts easing against his chest, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He tilted his head back for her kiss, was careful to hold her loosely in his arms, his senses reeling. Her body was slick and damp and warm, feeling so delicate and soft as she pressed against him. He found the sexy curve of her neck and kissed it, nibbled a bit until she shivered and held him tighter.
This was better than that day in the solarium. So much better. The water was warm and the feel of it only added to the sensual pleasures between them. And this time she wasn’t wearing anything at all.
He let his hands drift lower, cupping her buttocks, finding smooth skin and sleek muscles beneath them. He felt them flex and tighten with every little move she made, imagined holding her this way while she took him inside her on another day just like this one, when she was well. He would pull her tight against him, ease her away, set the rhythm he wanted, the one she needed. He would make her beg, make her cry, make her wait, taking her closer to the peak each time and then carefully backing away, until she was mindless with a desperate wanting for him.
“Help me,” she said.
“Hmm?”
He felt her weight shift and then her knee was against one of his thighs, burrowing into the space between his thigh and the side of the tub. He shifted his leg to accommodate her, and only then did he realize what she was doing. She’d found that same position he’d guided her to that day in the solarium. She was sitting across his lap, facing him with her thighs spread wide, her weight on him, their bodies pressed intimately together.
It was just what he wanted, what he couldn’t have, what she couldn’t take today. His hands closed around her upper arms, holding her still. “We can’t.”
“I think we can,” she insisted.
“I’ll hurt you,” he argued.
“Then we’ll stop. But not until then.”
It was not the kind of argument he’d ever had with a naked, willing woman, but one he was determined to win. “Babe, you don’t have to do this. I’ll be okay.”
She played dirty, reaching between them and down into the water, her hands closing around him, her eyes opening wider with shock and he thought with pleasure. His body jerked in response, unbelievably seeming to harden even more at the gentle, insistent pressure of her hands.
He could let her do this, he decided, let her stroke him with those delicate hands of hers. It might kill him, but he wouldn’t move a muscle. He’d watch desire turn her eyes smoky and dark, watch that satisfied smile spread across her pretty face, feel her hands stroking him. That would be more than enough.
He smiled back at her, relaxed a little, ready to stop fighting it and simply let himself go, as long as he could be still somehow. Oh, yeah. This would be more than enough, he realized. What he hadn’t counted on was the way her thighs tensed, the way ever so slowly, she leaned the weight of her body against his, guiding him to the tight, wet opening of her body.
“No,” he said, sounding like a drowning man, moving to stop her.
But it was too late. She smiled again, pressed down against him just a little, and he was right there, poised on the brink of being inside her. He felt heat, felt what seemed to be an impossibly narrow opening, felt that gentle pressure she was exerting which threatened to do away with every ounce of resistance he had.
“Jamie, don’t do this. I told you I can wait.”
“We’ve waited for years,” she said. “Years. I don’t want to wait another second.”
He groaned, his instinct to protect, to worry about her needs first, to clamp down on his.
She sank lower, taking him inside, just the blunt tip. The way he felt tonight, he figured he had about a mile to go before he was fully inside her. But this was okay. Just this, he told himself. He could let her do just this. He could come just like this.
“Please,” she begged. “I need you, too. I need to feel you inside me. All the way.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said, pressing down upon him again. “Help me, Dan. If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me. I want you so much. I need you.”
Dan groaned. He couldn’t fight that. How could any man in his position fight against a plea like that? His hands cupped her buttocks again, and she relaxed, letting him control the movement now, letting him take her weight in his hands.
It was doable, he decided. If she simply needed to feel him within the tight sheath of her body, he could give her that. He’d already decided he’d give her anything she wanted, anything he had to give. He could control himself somehow and give her this.
“Don’t move a muscle,” he warned. “And if this hurts you, you tell me. Right away.”
Controlling her movement with his hands, he used the weight of her own body, let her sink down upon him, slowly easing his way inside. The pressure was exquisite, a thousand tiny muscles inside of her shivering and pulsing around him, working to accommodate his swollen length. She felt so tight, every sensation multiplied a hundredfold, a thousand. It made him wonder if every other woman had been nothing but a dream. If nothing before this had been real.
The pleasure was so intense, a tight, burning sensation that reached to the very core of him. He started to sweat with the effort it took not to give in to the demands of his body, to take her quickly, pressing deeply inside, withdrawing and thrusting in time to the beat of his heart, taking her with strength and power and almost no restraint.
Not tonight, he reminded himself.
He dug his fingers into her buttocks and eased her down a fraction of an inch more. She moaned sweetly, her head coming down to rest against his shoulder as she went limp in his arms, giving herself up to him.
She was going to kill him, he decided. This was going to kill him. He felt as if he’d run a marathon, climbed a mountain, jumped out of an airplane without a parachute. She was every bit as dangerous and enticing as any mission he’d ever been given. And she was his mission tonight. Pleasing her. Slipping inside her and making her come again and again, if that was what she wanted, what she needed.
She moaned.
“Tell me,” he said, worried at the look of utter concentration on her face.
“I can’t...
”
“It hurts?”
“No, it’s too much.”
“Here?” Again, he used his hands to bring her down around him, taking a little bit more of him.
“Yes,” she gasped. “I can’t....”
But she could. He would show her. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, but....”
“Then you do it,” he said. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Take it.”
She stared at him, surprised by the idea, excited by it, a little apprehensive. He wondered again if he was hurting her, was ready to put a stop to this whole thing, when she pressed her body onto his, sinking ever so slowly downward, finding a way somehow. “It feels so good,” she whispered urgently.
His fingers tightened on her buttocks, his nails digging into them until he forced them to relax before he left marks of his own on her. He felt as if they had come thousands of miles, a journey measured in long, lonely years and endless denials of all that was between them, to reach this moment. Somehow he’d always known she was meant for him, even if he thought she deserved someone so different from him.
He considered telling her he loved her, because he was fairly certain he did. His only doubts were about his ability to feel that particular emotion, to recognize it for what it was. He’d never truly loved a woman before, had tried for a long time to convince himself he couldn’t and that he was better for lack of loving anyone or having anyone’s love in return.
But if he was capable of loving anyone, it would be her.
“Jamie,” he whispered urgently, trying to say it all with just her name, somehow managing not to move at all though every nerve in his body was screaming at him to do so.
Her body still closed around him so tightly, clenching and pulsing and heating him through and through. And he loved being inside her, had loved so much the way she’d given herself to him, had cried out his name and collapsed in his arms.
“Dan,” she said, begging now.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. Ready to guide her over the edge, he reached a hand between them, finding the place where her body gave way to his, feeling her spread open wide around him, tracing the opening with his thumb, finding the feeling so erotic.
Dangerous to Love Page 18