Chapter Five #2
He nodded, as if that was all he needed to hear, and as his mouth came coaxingly down over hers in a slow, sensual kiss, she got the feeling it was.
His kisses were so luxurious and unhurried, as if he wanted to savor them, everything else faded away.
Her entire being was focused on the feel of his mouth on hers, the quick and steady beat of his heart against her chest and the warmth and weight of his body cocooning hers.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, her mind was quiet save for the want filling every crevice.
There was no mental narration, no second-guessing, as there had been with others.
With her Viking, there was only the pull of desire, the sense that this was right in ways that were startlingly unexpected.
His mouth slipped from hers, and he gazed deeply into her eyes, anchoring her in the moment as their bodies came together.
He entered her slowly, filling her inch by inch, so completely and perfectly, she held her breath, wanting to memorize the pleasure emanating from their connection.
His gaze unwavering, the silence wrapped around them, binding them together.
When he was buried to the hilt, the pleasure was so exquisite, the breath rushed from her lungs.
But there was something bigger happening.
A shift in the air, in his eyes, inside her own body.
Whatever this was, it didn’t feel fleeting. It felt like it was settling in, finding a foothold.
Confusion rose in his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered, and touched his forehead to hers.
She closed her eyes, dazed and already a little undone by the emotions rattling around inside her. Trying to outrun them, she said, “Kiss me, Ragnar.”
His lips met hers with soul-searing intensity, and as they found their rhythm, that passion amplified.
His every thrust lit her up from the inside out, drawing hungry moans and needy noises, which were met with guttural, greedy sounds from him.
Their kisses turned urgent and messy, their hands grasping and clawing, their hips rocking and gyrating.
He lifted her leg at the knee, opening her wider for him, taking her deeper. And Lord, could he go deep. She hooked the backs of her ankles around his legs, meeting his thrusts with a rock of her hips.
“Christ,” he growled. “You feel too damn good. It’s been too long. I’m not going to last.”
“Same,” she panted out. “Don’t slow down.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers, tangling her fingers in his hair as he pounded into her.
His kisses turned rougher, more demanding, his thrusts faster, like he couldn’t get enough.
She was suffering the same plight, feeling like a lioness that had been trapped in a world of unfulfillment and was finally let loose in a field of pleasure.
He pushed his hands under her ass, growling as he lifted and angled her hips, fucking her so perfectly, fiery sensations seared up her core and down her limbs, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Her head fell back, and she grabbed his shoulders, his biceps, anywhere she could find purchase in the dizzying world they’d created.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
She was hanging on to her sanity by a thread. Their eyes connected with the impact of a storm surge, pulling her under. He bit out, “Fuck,” and his next thrust sent them both over the edge.
“Ragnar—” shot from her lips, her fingernails digging into his flesh, as their hips bucked and thrust, and he buried his face in her neck, gritting out curses, holding her ass so tight, the pain exploded into a world of pleasure she never saw coming, and never wanted to leave.
He cradled her beneath him as they came down from the high, trying to catch their breath, their bodies slick from their efforts and the warmth of the fireplace. He rained tender kisses along her neck and shoulder and whispered, “Where have you been all my life?”
Happiness bubbled up inside her. “Weeding through jelly-filled chocolates and boring short stories, waiting for my Viking to appear.”
His dark eyes brimmed with emotion, and a gratified grin stretched across his handsome face.
“Chocolate? Now there’s an idea.” He shifted them onto their sides, holding her tight, and kissed her forehead, her cheek, and finally, her lips.
Brushing the tip of his nose along the side of hers, he said, “No more jelly filling or short stories for you.”
For a guy who couldn’t make promises, that sure sounded like one to her.
EVERY OUNCE OF Crew’s consciousness zeroed in on the woman in his arms. Those blissed-out honey-brown eyes were at half-mast, and they still sparkled with an unparalleled effervescence that made something come alive in him.
He didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the incredible spell she’d cast on him with laughter, heat, and that unguarded way she gave herself over to each moment.
Including this one, as she snuggled closer, pushing her knee between his legs, stirring his body back to life—and his mind into gear.
The words he’d said came rushing back. Where have you been all my life?
They’d come without thought and hadn’t registered until now.
She really had cast some sort of spell on him, and it needed to end.
It wasn’t that the thought was unfounded, but he was in no position to say romantic shit like that. He needed to regain control.
“Hey, Trouble, where’s your bathroom?”
“You can use the one by the kitchen. I’ll use the one in my bedroom and meet you in the middle.”
In the middle? She was too damn cute.
Every fiber of his being protested the distance he was putting between them as he climbed off her. He snagged his boxer briefs and strode into the bathroom, fighting a silent battle.
After taking care of the condom and washing his hands, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, telling himself to get the hell out of there before more unexpected shit came out of his mouth. He’d go out there, thank her for a good time, and take off. Forget tonight ever happened.
Even as he thought it, he knew forgetting her would be impossible.
Fuck that. After what he’d been through, nothing was impossible.
Decision made, he left the bathroom and found her standing at the kitchen counter, holding a blanket around herself with one hand at her chest, her shoulders bared, the front of the blanket open just enough to reveal that she was still naked beneath it.
“There you are,” she said happily. She bit into a piece of chocolate, the liquid center in the remaining half dripping down her fingers as she motioned to a small plate of chocolates on the counter. “I couldn’t resist.” Holding his gaze, she licked the sweetness from her fingers.
His body flamed. Fuck it.
“That makes two of us.” He closed the distance between them and hauled her into a kiss.
The blanket fell to their feet. Her needy sounds burned right through him as he lifted her onto the counter and wedged himself between her legs.
“You’re playing with fire, Trouble. I have a thing for chocolate, and apparently for us, too.
” Taking the chocolate from her, he licked the remaining liquid from it, then slicked his tongue over her lips. “Open your mouth.”
When she did, he put the chocolate on her tongue and kissed her devouringly, melting it against their tongues.
She was so damn willing, as insatiable for him as he was for her.
He picked up another chocolate, feeding her just enough to reach the liquid center, and dripped that sugary goodness onto her breasts.
He dragged his tongue over it, spreading the sweetness over her silky skin and pert nipples.
“Ragnar,” she pleaded, fisting her hands in his hair, arching against his mouth. He licked and sucked until she was writhing, her thighs wet with arousal again.
“We’re just getting started.” He held up another chocolate, and she bit it open. This time he dripped the liquid down her stomach. Biting open another piece, he dripped the liquid over her thighs, and a lustful moan sailed from her lips.
“Hurry,” she pleaded.
“No fucking way.” He fed her the chocolate, then bit into another, drizzling the liquid over her pussy.
Spreading her legs wider, boldly watching the sweetness mix with her arousal, he said, “Look at you, pussy dripping with sugar, ready to be devoured.” He grazed his teeth over her nipple, and she gasped.
“Ragnar, please.”
“Lean back on your hands and watch me ruin you for all other men.” The words were out before he could stop them.
She leaned back, spread wide for him, those hungry eyes watching him with laser focus, as he lowered his mouth to her stomach, licking and teasing, working his way south.
Already knowing nipple play drove her crazy, he reached up with one hand, rolling her nipple between his finger and thumb as he licked, sucked, and bit her inner thighs.
Tantalizing moans, needy whimpers, and greedy pleas sailed from her lips, spurring him on and making his cock ache to get in on the fun.
He took her right up to the edge of release, her legs trembling, breath hitching, and buried his mouth between her legs.
Her essence mixed with the sweet candy, and holy hell, he could feast on her forever.
Her hips rocked as he fucked and sucked.
When he took her clit between his teeth, she cried out, an orgasm crashing over her.
She grabbed his hair, rocking against his mouth, and he stayed with her, keeping her at the peak, devouring everything she had to give.
When she finally went slack against him, panting for air, he picked up the blanket and carried her into the living room. Dropping the blanket by the fireplace, he gently laid her on it, the fire casting golden light over her curves.
As he reached for his wallet, her eyes fluttered open.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she asked so sweetly, his chest constricted.
“Not until you’re thoroughly fucked.”
“Good.”
The naughty grin she flashed shouldn’t get him all twisted up inside the way it did. He told himself she knew the score and sheathed his cock.
CREW LAY AWAKE long after his sex kitten fell asleep snuggled against him.
He was too amped up to sleep. It had been a long time since he’d felt this wrecked or this alive.
If he ever had. He’d overanalyzed his entire life while he was in prison, and he’d realized how much of a smokescreen he’d lived behind.
He looked at the sleeping beauty beside him, a sated smile still on her lips, and the empty box of chocolates they’d snacked on after their sexfest. She was something else—adorable, sexy, funny as hell the way she bounced from one topic to the next.
And the sex? Unfuckingbelievable, and he had a feeling they were just scratching the surface together.
His jaw clenched against how badly he wanted to find out.
He toyed with the idea of waking her up and seeing what lay beneath the surface.
This couldn’t lead anywhere, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t spend a few more hours together.
He imagined spending the next day here in the cabin with her, laughing with her, fucking her a few more times before parting ways. Maybe she’d be into it.
He got up to use the bathroom, and a distant buzzing drew his attention. Her phone was lying on the floor by her jacket. He picked it up and glanced at the slew of unread texts on the screen as another text rolled in.
Quinn: Birdie Whiskey, you better answer me or we’re calling Dare and the rest of your brothers to help with the search party!
Crew froze, ice filling his veins. Birdie Whiskey? Dare Whiskey’s sister? Fuck. That name wasn’t common enough to be a coincidence.
Devlin “Dare” Whiskey was one of the two people Crew had almost killed the night he’d made the worst decision of his life and gotten behind the wheel when he was too fucking drunk to care whether he lived or died, let alone who else might.
Memories splintered through him like shards of glass—A flash of light, tires screeching, an impact that sent the world reeling as his car spun out of control and slammed into a tree.
Bloodcurdling screams competing with sirens blaring, a lifeless body in the grass, and the feel of his own tortured wails tearing through his chest as reality set in.
Each memory drove the guilt and self-loathing deeper.
He dressed quickly, his hands unsteady, his head a fucking mess, and reached for the door, taking one last look at Trouble—Birdie Fucking Whiskey—fast asleep, warm and unsuspecting in the fire’s glow.
His stomach sank, his chest seizing up. He didn’t want to leave her like this, but wanting didn’t amount to shit.
He’d already hurt her family badly enough. She’d be better off this way.
I’m so fucking sorry.
He felt like his heart was being ripped from his body as he slipped out the door into the cold, dark night, shrouded by the ghosts of his past and a mountain of guilt for leaving that incredible, sweet woman to wake up alone.