Chapter 18 #2
His gaze moved over me—not quick, not greedy, not cruelly assessing—but slowly, thoroughly, like he was taking in something rare enough to leave him breathless. He didn’t flinch. Nor was there a shadow of disappointment.
Only hunger threaded tight with something deeper that made my chest ache showed on his face. Only the quiet devastation of a man being trusted with something fragile. Somehow, beneath that gaze, every sharp little insecurity inside me went still. I didn’t feel exposed. I felt seen.
“Can I touch you now?” His voice came out rough with restraint.
My throat tightened. I nodded.
His hands… God, his hands were almost too gentle when they stroked the curve of my jaw and then traced my face. His touch wandered down my neck, caressing the skin and savoring every inch. He watched the path of his hands until he cupped my breasts.
“These are very wicked.” He chuckled.
“They’ve never tried to attack anyone else.”
Then he took one nipple into the warmth of his mouth and stroked the other with his thumb.
I leaned against the wall and tried to stay on my feet while his mouth widened over my breast, sucking aggressively, and his other hand slid down and palmed my butt.
He swiped his hand around, sliding a finger inside me easily, stroking.
He continued the torture until I was panting, desperate, ready to actually rip clothes to get him naked too.
He kissed me so thoroughly that I barely noticed him walking me to the bed. I was startled when my knees hit the edge of it, almost missed him lifting me onto the mattress. I didn’t miss when he shed his shirt. Finally…
Delirious with the need to touch each other everywhere, our kisses turned more savage, born of a desire too long denied. It changed to something less sweet and more desperate. I managed to undo his jeans and got him to kick out of them. My hands twisted in his hair.
“Wait.” He pulled back when I tried to press into him. “I want this slower.”
“Rye,” I reached between us and fisted his cock. “Next time we can go slower.”
“No,” he chuckled and pushed at my shoulders. “We’re doing this my way.”
He got on his knees and kissed his way up from my ankle on a thorough journey all the way up my leg. “What did this?”
His mouth traced the scratches on my skin, tongue warm.
“An enthusiastic Doberman jumped on me the other day. Just scratches.”
“And this?” He kissed over the deep bruise along my left thigh.
“That’s where the horse kicked me.”
By the time he reached my inner thigh, my hands were fisted tight in the bedcover.
I thrashed, head flung back and heedless of anything else.
He could go fast or slow or whatever he wanted, but I would win.
He would lose control in the end and go faster.
But I could resist begging him to hurry up.
I would cage the moans and give him the satisfaction of doing this the “slow” way until he did this the way I wanted.
Then he put his mouth on me and ordered, “Watch me.”
My heartbeat pounded hard inside my ears, but I sat up to watch his mouth on me.
The control on his face cracked with hunger.
I realized this battle of wills was ridiculous.
His composure was as flimsy as mine. After the first few swipes of his tongue, we both lost control.
The white flags were raised in surrender to the demands of the other.
I felt adrift, with no bearings as he dragged his tongue in ways that pushed me to unravel.
Everything rattled loose. To be wanted like this eclipsed everything broken or unwanted inside me.
I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to feel him aggressively plunging into me, but then he whispered, “I’ve got you.”
And everything exploded.
I was still floating when he joined me on the bed. When his hands roamed my upper body, controlled and gentle, I urged him to get between my legs.
His hand hovered over the long scar along my side, fingertips barely brushing my skin like he was afraid pressing too hard might hurt me. Or maybe afraid of what it meant that the scar existed at all.
“What did this?”
Before I could answer, he bent his head and pressed a slow kiss against the scar. The tenderness of it made something tight in my chest pull even harder.
“A steer gouged me with a horn a few years ago,” I said softly. “Cost me a piece of my liver.”
His mouth stilled against my skin.
“Jesus,” he murmured, thumb tracing the edge of the scar now. Angry in that quiet way people got when they cared too much. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not physically.” I tried for casual, for dismissive. “My pride still hasn’t entirely recovered. I knew better than to be standing where I was.”
His eyes lifted to mine then, dark and intent enough to make me stop breathing for a second. “You risk too much in this job.”
The words weren’t judgmental. They sounded almost helpless. Like every scar he found on me was becoming something he took personally.
I curled my fingers under his chin and tipped his face up until he had to look at me instead of the marks on my body. “I like what I do. I know the risks. Let’s not talk about work.”
For a second, he watched me, his expression softening into something warm enough to melt straight through me. Then that slow grin spread across his face—the one that always made my pulse stumble. “I can do that.”
He kissed his way back up my body, lingering on my breasts again before pausing to whisper, “This is my favorite spot.” Right before he kissed along my collarbone.
“Thought so when you said it was the first place you’d put whipped cream.”
He grinned, wicked. “Someday…when I stop by your house with the fully stocked fridge…”
I ran one hand down the ridges of muscle along the arm closest to me. “I want to play this stupid banter game with you, but I’ve been wanting you inside me for almost half my life. So, can we please skip this?”
He snorted out a laugh. “I knew the redhead in you wouldn’t accept the slow-down plan without a fight.”
I reached down and wrapped my hand around him and stared into his eyes, dead serious.
“Condom?” he asked.
“I can’t have kids. So, doesn’t matter.”
“Says who?”
“Tried for a long time while I was married and…the doctor thought it was me.”
He leaned over to the bedside table, did something to what must’ve been a child’s lock, and pulled back to cover himself in a condom anyway. “If you want to have a baby, I guarantee you I can give it to you. Let’s not tonight, though.”
“I can’t believe I want someone this much who’s so arrogant.”
“That’s right…you want me.” He rolled me on top of him to give me control.
“You trust me on top?” It’s not that I’ve never been on top. It just made me more self-conscious.
“I want to see every inch of you when you come.”
I hovered over him, unsure I was ready for this. Not him being inside me. I wanted that. I was afraid once I started down this path of trust with him, there would be no turning back. Timothy was a one-way ticket to locking something in my heart forever.
I eased down slowly. His first thrust gave me that almost-too-much feel, that stretch that was almost pain but wasn’t.
Our foreheads smashed together, gasping.
I wasn’t prepared to feel more than I already had, but he spread his hands along my back and slowly increased the pace and strength.
With every push and pull of his body and his mouth and us…
we tapped into something I hadn’t know was there.
It was wild and reckless and something that could only be…
us. Something I didn’t know I needed to find.
With one brush of his hand, he swiped the damp hair off my face. “You’re so beautiful.”
His face contorted with pleasure, and he led a brutal pace until he stopped. He linked his fingers with mine. “You want more?”
“Yes.” I leaned down and kissed him deep, pulling away for a moment to whisper, “I want everything from you.”
He rolled me beneath him and whispered, “Lock your ankles around me.”
Once I did, he lifted my pelvis with one hand and plunged in deep. As if unlocking some inner restraint, he let go. Wild. Uninhibited. I loved it.
He gasped out. “I’ve got you.”
Then there were no more words. Just our eyes holding each other as everything fell apart inside me.
Moments later, he too came hard and deep.
I didn’t even remember how I ended up next to him, breathing hard in silence.
“That was…” My voice cracked apart on a breathless laugh. “I’ve never…come twice.”
The words spilled out uselessly. There wasn’t language big enough for what had just happened to me. My entire body still felt suspended somewhere between trembling and floating, my pulse thundering so hard I could hear it in my ears.