Chapter 8 #2
"Hi. We fell asleep."
"Hmm." She stretched, her knee edging dangerously close to that vulnerable part of his anatomy.
"We should." He cleared his throat again.
"Uhm. It's late."
"You sound nervous. Are you?" She made no move to get off him.
"No. No."
Her fingers spread over his chest.
"Your heart is pounding."
"It's not."
She merely lifted one tapered brow.
"Your chest is quite impressive."
"Ingrid."
"McCreary."
"We never discussed this."
"No, we didn't." Her hand drifted to the edge of his sweater, her hand sliding up his taut stomach to his chest. And felt when his muscles flinched.
"We're married."
"Yes," he rasped.
"It's just that."
"It's an arrangement. It no longer is."
"It's not?" He could not find his breath.
"No. Hmm. You work out."
"Yes, there's a fully equipped gym at the manor." It occurred to him that he was babbling.
"There's one here too. We should work out together. I'm lousy at keeping to a plan. You're going to have to keep me accountable."
"Yes. I." He had to stifle a groan as she stroked his nipple. His hand clamped down on hers as his breath became strangled in his throat.
"What are you doing?"
"I must be doing it wrong if it's not clear," she murmured. He realized he had another problem. Her knee was an inch away from his raging arousal. Just when he opened his mouth to say something, any damn thing, she nudged and sent need exploding throughout his body.
And he knew he was lost.
With a fevered groan he bent his head and seized her mouth. The kiss had her going dizzy. When her lips parted, he took the kiss deeper. She was intoxicating and tasted like popcorn, honey and passion.
He was so caught up in the kiss, he barely noticed when she shifted on top of him.
Her hand was still planted on his chest and his skin quivered.
He was drowning. Wrenching his mouth from hers, he had to take several deep breaths as if fighting for air. His eyes were darkened as they wandered over her face.
"Are you sure?" he rasped and had time to wonder what kind of madness would prompt him to ask that asinine question.
In response, she simply plucked the sweater she had on over her head and dropped it to the carpeted floor.
The blood drained from his head straight to the core of him and left him feeling disoriented.
She wasn't wearing a bra and the nipples he had glimpsed a few times before were bare before his hungry gaze.
In a kind of daze, he lifted a hand and cupped the flesh, his thumb flicking over the raised nipple.
"Does that answer your question?" Ingrid asked huskily.
Without responding, he bent his head and touched the nipple with the tip of his tongue. Just that sent fire hurtling through her body. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she arched her body. She had no idea when the dynamics of the arrangement had changed but knew it had.
She also had no clue what was going to happen after this.
He was in love with another woman and before now, she had felt nothing but contempt for him. But all she knew was that she wanted him with a fierceness she had never felt before. She was hungry and he was the only one to satisfy that hunger.
His hand drifted down her flat stomach as he took the nipple into his mouth and sucked urgently. His hand edged into the waistband of her leggings. When he encountered bare flesh, he felt as if the top of his head was being blown off.
His fingers circled, teased, and entered the hot moisture.
He shot her up immediately. Her body arched and quivered, a cry escaping her as she exploded. Her intense passion stunned him. He had been with too many women to count, but none had ever excited him this much.
His skin was sweating, his body so hot, he felt as if he was burning from the inside out.
He needed her flesh against his. He needed the contact, or he was going to die. Lifting his head, he dragged off his sweater and fought with the zipper on his jeans. With a strangled laugh, she helped him and after a frustrating several minutes, they were both naked.
She reached for him, closing her fingers around the throbbing flesh, making his knees weak.
"Let me." He wanted to taste her but feared that he would not last.
"Jesus, just wait." Lowering himself on top of her, he framed her face between his palms and kissed her until she was a quivering mass of melting bones on the chaise.
"Now, please," she whispered, feeling the fire balling at the base of her stomach.
Reaching between them, he guided himself into the snug moistness. He had to stop a minute and felt his head spinning. She was wrapped so tight around him, he could barely stand it. When she lifted one knee and started moving, he simply shattered.
It had never felt this good.
The passion was one intense ball of fire that carried them up and away with a force neither of them expected nor could control.
They both imploded. Even though it was something they anticipated, it shook them to the very core. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she arched her body, her cries captured inside his mouth.
His body shuddered as he poured himself into her.
They were silent for what seemed like forever. The credits had stopped rolling and the only sound in the room was that of their serrated breathing.
"I'm crushing you."
"No." She could not believe how shy she felt. Burying her face into the hollow of his throat, she breathed him in. His skin was a golden tan all over, his body magnificent.
She knew better than to have feelings for him, but it was too late.
"Uhm, did I hurt you?"
"No." Her hands roamed the length of his back, loving the feel of his muscles bunching at her touch.
"I think I'm crushing you." He shifted but still maintained the intimacy. He was loath to let go all the way.
"Better?"
"Hmm." She snuggled. Jesus, she had never snuggled with a man before, but it felt natural.
"Uh oh."
"What?"
"Now we've gone and done it."
"Yeah."
Tilting her head, she studied him.
"So?"
"So what?"
"This changes things."
"I'm aware." He did not want to talk about it just now. And he wanted her again. Amazingly he wanted to feel her tightness wrapped around him again.
He would examine his feelings later when he was alone.
But for now, he wanted to experience the stunning flash of emotions that had sent him stumbling headlong into the storm.
"We should go to bed."
"Is that what you want to do?"
He trailed a hand along her ribs and up to the side of her breast.
"No," he heard himself saying.
"I want to take you to bed."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Then take me to bed."
"Yours or mine?" he rasped.
"Let's decide when we get upstairs."
They decided on hers, because it was closer and ascending the stairs completely naked was a test on their ability to go any further.
This time he paid avid attention to her voluptuous curves, using his mouth and fingers to drive her to the brink of insanity.
By the time he covered her body with his, he had shot her up three times, leaving her a mass of melting flesh that felt as weak as a kitten.
Later, he cradled her against his side as she slept, her breathing even and fluttering on his flesh.
She was fast asleep, but he could not close his eyes. Carly had called several times while he was at the club and this morning while he was on his way back. She had insisted she wanted to talk to him. Tipping his head down, he gazed at the woman who had previously been a thorn in his side.
It was incredible that in less than a week, things had changed between them.
He had felt it right from that night he had tried to sneak down to get something to eat. Seeing her in the kitchen, had done something to him. And it had spiraled after that. Her sharp wit appealed to him.
Tilting his head to the ceiling, he contemplated.
They had been forced into this thing by their grandparents and now it was real. They were really married. He had no idea what to think about this yet. He just knew he had never wanted another woman the way he wanted her.
*****
The dream was erotic. Heat shimmered all over his body and sent his blood pressure soaring. Someone was trailing fingers down his chest and placing butterfly kisses on his nipples. His eyes snapped open as his body arched in violent response to discover it was not a dream.
"Hi." Golden brown eyes twinkled as she lifted her head to meet his gaze.
"Thought I would give you a wakeup call."
"That's putting it mildly." His eyes darkened.
"I decided to take a leaf out of your book." She trailed long fingers down his flat stomach and sent the flesh quivering.
"What page?" he rasped and wondered how he could still feel his toes.
"This one." Her hand drifted down and hovered.
"And this one." His hands clenched into tight fists when she wrapped those clever fingers around the throbbing length of him.
"What's your thought on it?"
His blood was buzzing so hard, he swore he was going deaf. His vision blurred and his heart was pounding like a jackhammer. He had never felt this way before. What was happening between them was past insane.
He could not find the words to describe it.
Intense came to mind and passion so ripe, so robust, it was driving him wild.
"I think." He somehow found the strength to haul her up. Flipping her onto her back, he covered her body and drove into her.
"I think you've written an entire new one." Covering her mouth with his, he sent them tumbling.