Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
“ A few months later, a letter arrived in the mail, urging me to get in touch with the US office of a legal firm called Ellis his stormy eyes pierce into me, penetrating through the ice wall I thought I had built around my heart.
He’s perfection. Everything about him is, from his looks to his singing and the way he carries himself. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me—an intensity that renders me unable to breathe. The spot where his fingers touch my face suddenly feels scorched, the instant flame traveling through my body as fast as a wildfire and settling in my abdomen.
“What am I thinking ?” He pauses for a moment to consider his words. “I’ve been all over the world. I’ve seen many amazing places and met interesting people. But I’ve never met anyone like you. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And what you’ve just told me makes everything much easier,” he whispers.
Before I can see his next move coming, his mouth is crushing mine, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck as he draws me closer.
What exactly makes everything easier, I want to ask, but somehow the words get lost between a whimper and a moan as his tongue slips between my lips, eager to taste and explore. He kisses me long and hard while his hands run along my body, caressing my curves like my body belongs exclusively to him, kneading all the right places.
“My bedroom, now!” He utters the command in between exploring my mouth, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
I want to point out that my bedroom’s closer by or we could just do whatever he’s planned for us right here on the spot, but Patrick’s already pulled me to my feet and scooped me into his arms. I don’t know what to make of his decisiveness. No man’s ever taken the lead like he is. Before I know it, he’s rushed up the stairs and we’re in his bedroom.
He lowers me onto his bed and barely gives me time to catch my breath before his mouth is on mine again. My body’s molded into the bed, soft and pliable under his weight, ready to accommodate him in any way he wants. His fingers inch beneath my shirt, cupping one breast and rubbing the coarse fabric of my bra over the tender nipple. I moan as a wave of pleasure shoots through me and arch my back in response, involuntarily asking for more.
But Patrick’s eager to move farther down.
His hands are busy with the zipper on my jeans and then he pulls them down my legs in one swift motion, parting my legs in the process. I’m wearing a thong—not the expensive kind, just black cotton that’s faded a little with time. But the way he’s looking at me, his gaze hooded and hungry for more, makes me feel as though I was wearing silk or lace.
He’s definitely not a fan of wasting time enjoying the view, which suits me just fine.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” His eyes lock with mine as he groans his appreciation and moves the string to the side. His fingers slip between my wet folds, moving up and down, wetting my clit with my juices.
I lean back against the pillows and close my eyes for a moment. The strong waves of an imminent orgasm shoot through my abdomen, but Patrick seems to have other plans for me.
“Look at me, Lori.”
I open my eyes to obey his command.
My gaze stays glued to him as he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. I stare at the rows and rows of muscles on his sculpted chest and abdomen.
Holy shit!
I’ve never been with anyone so ripped and it makes my clit throb in anticipation. I have to focus on something else before I climax from just looking at his perfect body.
My clit twitches again, reminding me that I’m more than eager to get this going, no matter the outcome. Who cares if I’m just a notch on his bedpost? I desperately want him to keep touching me; I want him like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.
“Patrick,” I whisper his name. My actions match the longing and urgency in my voice as I reach to help him unbutton his jeans and free the object of my desire. It’s huge; I can tell from the bulge straining against the shorts covering it. As he pulls down his underwear, his whole length comes free, and I gasp.
He’s fully erect.
There’s no way I can possibly take that.
I’m too rusty in that department. Besides, my work life has always come first so dating and gathering experience has never been a priority.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Patrick says, sensing my hesitation. “I’ll be gentle.”
Without waiting for my answer, his mouth crushes mine in a smoldering kiss, and his hands begin to caress my folds again, spreading the moisture to prepare me for what’s to come.
I’ve never been kissed the way Patrick kisses me. He doesn’t just want to taste me; it feels as though he wants to take hostage of every part of me. In spite of my better judgment, I’m ready to give him just that.
I want him to have me. All of me.
The thought is strangely empowering, turning me bold and confident and eager to let him control the pace.
Releasing my mouth, he nips my nipple between his teeth, both sucking and licking at the same time. I cry out his name. The pleasure is too much. It’s torturing me to the point that I don’t think I can endure it. My whole body seems to start burning from the inside out.
“Patrick,” I moan between ragged breaths.
He mutters his appreciation in response, though, by the life of me, I can’t grasp what he’s saying. My blood is rushing through my veins, pooling between my legs, rendering me unable to form a coherent thought. And that unintelligible accent of his isn’t helping.
His blunt hand parts my hidden lips, and he dips one finger inside. The walls tighten around him, eager to suck him in deeper. I close my eyes for a moment as my bent legs begin to wobble.
His finger keeps moving in and out, and my muscles clench around the intrusion, sending shock waves through my body.
“I’m—” My breath hitches as my brain struggles to put what I’m feeling into words. It won’t be much longer. I’m nearing the edge of an orgasm.
“Come for me,” Patrick says and releases my nipples. An instant later, his mouth has trailed farther south, settling between my legs. His hot breath is scorching my clit and then his tongue is on me, flicking with enough pressure to make me gasp. The sudden jolt of pleasure comes so unexpected I cry out and fall into wave after wave of ecstasy and release.
I’m still panting when I finally open my eyes and find Patrick on top of me, propped on his elbows, looking at me with a self-assured smile. He doesn’t need to ask whether he was any good; he knows it.
Great job, Lori!
I’ve just fed that scandalous ego of his.
“Ready for more?” He places a soft kiss on my lips, then another.
I squirm a little, want to tell him that my body feels like jelly, weak and powerless, and I can’t go for the real thing just yet. I’ll need a few minutes to catch my breath and gather my strength. But somehow, my body seems to have its own plans. Suddenly, all I can think about is his hardness inside me, thrusting, making me scream.
“I want to hear you scream, too. Let’s make that happen, shall we?” Patrick says.
Crap!
Did I just speak my thoughts out loud?
Blood rushes to my face, but I have no time to feel ashamed because Patrick’s settling between my legs. The tip of his huge erection is glistening with moisture as he expertly goes on to roll a condom over his hard shaft. The anticipation is both thrilling and daunting. I wet my lips, vying my lungs to start breathing again.
He takes his time rubbing my wetness over my oversensitive clit, back and forth. I wince a little, but the pain slowly turns into an ache. For him. For all he has to offer. I want to know his thoughts, why his eyes are suddenly like dark pools that seem torn, unsure, maybe a little troubled.
Why is he hesitating?
I don’t ask.
And then there’s no time to because his own lust wins over whatever battle he seems to be fighting inside his head.
He places one firm hand on the outside of my waist and guides himself between my legs. The moment I feel the pressure against my entrance I forget to breathe again. And then he’s inside me, just a little, but enough to make me squirm and whisper his name.
“Patrick.”
My voice is pleading. My brain is a tangled mess.
“Want more?” His tone is low and hoarse, barely more than a grunt. He doesn’t wait for an answer; he pushes his hardness deeper inside, stretching me, filling me, until I think I can’t take another inch. “How do you want me, Lori?”
“I—” Biting my lip, I look between our bodies.
I shouldn’t have.
Holy shit!
There’s so much more to take when I already feel stretched to the limit. I don’t know how my body could possibly accommodate all of him. I should have known better than to go as far as we’ve come. Patrick is too much for me, in every possible way. But now that he’s having his wicked ways with me, I don’t want him to stop. He’s the kind of man who’s too tempting to resist. And it’s not just his looks; it’s also his body, his personality, that whole broody-I’ll-take-no-prisoners approach to our living arrangements.
Patrick doesn’t seem to harbor any of my thoughts. All he seems to want right now is to take his pleasure from me, and the thought is strangely turning me on even more than the pressure of his fingers on my clit.
I buck against him, shift my hips to let him in another inch. Somehow, my body obeys. My entire body begins to tremble from the sheer effort, but somehow it makes more room for him. Or maybe it’s the electric currents shooting through me from the bottom to the top, up and down, making my skin sensitive to his touch and putting my nerve endings on fire.
I moan and grind myself against him, in complete sync with his every thrust. My body threatens to come apart with every movement as explosive pleasure wracks through me. He slows for a moment and our eyes connect.
He doesn’t thrust. He just keeps me pinned to the spot while his heated gaze does all the work. His breaths come ragged, hard and fast, like he’s fighting for self-control. He might have enough of it, but I don’t.
“Patrick, I—” My voice breaks. My brain’s too scrambled to form the words and tell him exactly what I want.
More of this.
More of him.
I buck and try to take the last bit of pleasure that will send me over the edge, but he doesn’t let me. His hand moves my wrists, pinning them over my head, while his hips keep me buried under his weight, forcing me to keep still.
My muscles tighten and pulse around his hardness. I open my mouth to protest and catch the dark look crossing his face. With agonizing slowness he pulls back, leaving an empty feeling behind.
“What’s—” Wrong, I want to ask. But I don’t get to finish the question as he plunges back in. The sudden movement takes me by surprise. The sudden shock of pleasure is too much. Waves of pleasure radiate through me and accumulate in one last explosion that makes my whole body clench and tighten around him.
My orgasm seems to go on forever and yet I know it’s not enough. It will never be. Now that I’ve had a taste of him I’ll always want more. When I’ve finally come down from my rollercoaster ride, Patrick pulls out of me gently and squeezes his arm beneath my head to snuggle me against him, then pulls the covers over our naked bodies.
I’m grateful for that because my skin is coated in a sheen of sweat and the physical exertion has left me sleepy and shivering.
I lift my lips to his and catch the frown creasing his forehead.
Did I do something wrong?
The disturbing thought instantly sends my insides into a nervous frenzy. The question starts to burn at the back of my head, but I don’t ask. Let’s be honest, I probably wouldn’t like the answer.
His lips press against my temple, hot and reassuring, instantly dissipating my doubts, and his arm pulls me closer to him. The kiss might not seem unraveling, but it’s devastating in its own right. It’s the kind that sends my walls crumbling to the ground fast, the kind that means something. Suddenly I want to open up to him and tell him everything. I want to trust him with my life, my past, my heart.
My body molds to him easily, as though it was made for him. We’re so close that, for a moment, his breath is mine and mine is his, like he’s the part of me I never knew I was missing until I found it.
It’s a dangerous thought to think and alarm bells start to ring at the back of my head.
I need to deal with this straight on, get rid of whatever stupid teenage fantasies my insane attraction to Patrick Walsh is planting inside me, before I turn into Mia and mentally enter the bridal zone. Apparently letting him fuck me once wasn’t enough to do the trick. Maybe an entire night will get him out of my system.
I pry my temple from his gentle lips.
“Lori,” Patrick starts, his voice hesitant. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Not now.” I arc my back to press my mouth against his, softly at first, then with more fervor until he gets the direction my touch is taking. But just to make sure, I run my fingertips over his bare chest, marveling at the hard muscles beneath the taut skin.
He breaks away from my kiss and raises a brow with a glint of amusement playing in his eyes. “Again? Are you sure?”
I nod and bite my lip. Heat rushes through me and pools in the soft, tender spot between my legs, right where he touched me barely a few minutes ago. I don’t know whether round two and another earth-shattering orgasm that will twist my insides into a tornado is a wise idea. But letting him fuck me until I can’t think straight sure beats obsessing over the way my heart has started to slam against my chest whenever I hear his voice. Or the way everything pales in significance whenever he so much as looks at me.
I know the signs. I’m not stupid.
Time to do something about it before it’s too late.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, ignoring the heat traveling up my neck at my own boldness.
“My pleasure. Or in this case, yours.” His mouth, lips, body are all over me, caressing me, taking me, keeping his promise the way only he knows how. And as expected, my brain switches off, eager to let him take control.