Chapter 4
The desire for her was raging through his body, but he needed to take his time.
"Remember the first time?" He was deliberately peppering his kisses with words, with memories, so that he could slow things down. It had always been so forceful and wildly passionate between them, and now wasn't any different.
"Samuel-" She moaned softly when he delicately nibbled on her skin.
"It was fast, too fast." His hands slid between their bodies to cup her breast. "You resisted at first, and I tried to fight it." His fingers were light as a feather as they stroked the rigid nipple. His lips were busy sipping from her skin. "I wasn't supposed to get involved with you."
"You ordered me to leave." Her fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, as her body arched towards his mouth.
"You stayed." He slid further down, both hands cupping her breasts and reshaping them. He always admired the way they fit his palms perfectly. Just the right size. "You dared me to send you away."
"Samuel- oh, God!"
"You came right up to me, your beautiful eyes flashing, your breasts heaving, and called me a bastard.
" He smiled at the memory, just as he bent his head to blow on her flesh.
Her body trembled. "I knew right then and there that this wasn't going to be something I could shake.
That you were going to take hold of me. Shall I taste you, Eliza? "
"Yes." Her fingers gripped his hair in desperation. "Please."
"Tongue or teeth?"
"What?" She gazed at him, her vision blurry. "I don't-"
"You need to tell me what you want. Shall I take you into my mouth or use my tongue to moisten the flesh?"
She had to shake her head in order to concentrate. This was his way. How could she forget? When he first made love to her and started talking, started using words to seduce her, she had almost gone crazy.
"Your mouth. Please."
"Are you certain?"
"Samuel, oh please, I can't- yes!"
"All the way in?"
She was losing control, slowly losing her mind. And if he didn't-
"I can see how aroused you are. Why don't I put you out of your misery?
" Before she could respond, he was slowly, inexorably drawing the tight bud in, his tongue swirling around the flesh.
He took his time, savoring and tasting as if it was some delectable meal he had to digest. It shattered her control and had her heaving against him.
When he finally drew the nipple and started suckling hungrily, she lost her mind.
Arching her head, fingers digging in his hair, she came, violently.
His hand slid down between them to cup her, and she came again, her flesh jumping.
Lifting his head, he stared at her with slitted eyes, loving the way her lips were parted and her eyes grew luminous.
And he knew he was going to have to take her now.
"Tell me what you want," he urged. Lowering himself just enough to barely touch her, he braced his arms on both sides of hers. His face was taut and hard with passion, his body throbbing like an open wound. He was aching, but still he hesitated.
"I want you inside me." Tears were springing from her eyes and trickling down her cheeks. "Deep inside me."
"Put me in," he ordered thickly. "You know what to do."
Her hands were trembling, but she managed to reach between them and guide his throbbing shaft into her welcoming warmth. The feel of her tightness against him was his undoing.
Gritting his teeth, he fought to hold back the release.
Gripping her hips, he held her steady so that he could thrust into her, to the hilt.
He filled her and then some, his body shuddering as she clasped him tightly.
Her arms came around him, and it was only then that he took her lips.
The kiss was potent. His tongue mated with hers, a savage dance that left them both gasping and out of breath.
He moved inside her and felt the familiar, intensely powerful passion sweeping them along in its wake.
Nothing else mattered. The room faded away, along with their past and the problems that had crippled them for a year.
This was familiar ground; they had always been able to bond whenever their flesh collided.
His restless fingers combed through her hair, holding her head steady as he ravished her mouth.
He felt her bracing for another climax and knew that this time he would be joining her.
And he did. As soon as her slender body surged upwards to meet his, he came.
His body shuddered, and he had to release her mouth as her name was torn from the depths of his chest. With one last thrust, he emptied himself into her, his breath strangling inside his chest.
For several minutes he could not say anything, could not move.
He should move and give her a chance to breathe, but he was too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to do so.
And she had her arms wrapped tight around his neck.
His face was buried against her throat, the feel of her satiny skin a source of comfort.
Finally lifting his head, he managed to untangle her arms from around his neck so that he could move. Unwilling to break the intimate contact, he brought her with him, tucking her securely in the curve of his shoulder and chest.
His hands roamed up and down her back slowly, his gaze fixed on the rain pattering on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The rain had started after all, and he was going to have to get up sometime and engage the fireplace. Soon it would start to get cold.
Tipping his head down, he caught her staring at him.
"It's raining," he said unnecessarily, making her smile.
"I heard."
"Of course." He lapsed into silence, feeling like an awkward schoolboy. "I should light the fire."
"In a minute." She snuggled closer, throwing one shapely leg over his thighs and effectively trapping him.
"Making sure I don't leave?" he queried, one thick dark brow raised.
"Something like that."
"We need to talk."
"Not yet." She shook her head, a faint frown touching her otherwise smooth brow. She did not want anything to spoil this moment.
Her hands started their own explorations, moving from his chest to the taut ridges of his flat stomach. He could feel the heat starting all over again. Laughing ruefully, he clamped a hand over hers, just as she decided to move lower.
"You're starting something I'm bound to finish," he warned.
Lifting her head, she gave him an arched look beneath long lashes that had his blood pressure soaring. "What if I want to start?"
Silver eyes took in the lush, parted lips. With a groan of surrender, he flipped her onto her back and covered her body with his.
They did not, in fact, have that talk. When he made love to her the final time, rosy pink was streaking the leaden sky, indicating that it was the dawning of a new morning.
She fell asleep, curled up against him, his arms wrapped around her securely.
He could hear her even breathing, but even though he was pleasantly exhausted, he could not shut his brain down.
Her scent was still assailing his nostrils, and with her pressed so closely against him, he could think of nothing but her.
Coming directly home last night had cemented his decision.
He wanted to stay married to her. He had foolishly thought he wanted out, but he was wrong.
They had problems, the usual with a high-profile marriage like theirs.
Most of his counterparts in the industry were going through their third or fourth divorce.
They were crazy busy. They lived their lives in the public's eye.
Their every move was monitored, and they could not talk to someone of the opposite sex without it being blown out of proportion.
He had seen the magazines. The tabloids were hinting at a separation, running lines like "trouble in paradise" and "the golden couple, not so golden after all.
" Things like that. And to make it even worse, they had inadvertently confirmed the paparazzi's suspicions by turning up at functions solo.
He had himself to blame as well. He had been drifting away from her.
He had allowed his parents' influence, and the fact that they had been denied the one thing they wanted desperately, to color his judgment: a child.
A son to carry on his name, and a daughter with her courage, looks, and amazing strength.
The first year when she wasn't pregnant, he had shrugged it off; after all, he wanted time with her.
They had traveled for a month, going to exotic places, making use of the resources at their disposal.
He had bought her a boat when she said she loved the water and named it "Eliza's Dream. "
She wasn't one who kept up with the latest trends.
She had a publicist and an assistant, but she rarely listened to anyone, insisting on doing her own thing instead.
One thing she did not believe in was wearing an outfit just once and discarding it.
She gave away a hell of a lot and was determined to right the wrongs done to children.
That was her weakness: abandoned kids. She had taken on enough projects concerning them for ten people.
He had no idea how she factored it all in while juggling her very demanding career and being his wife.
But she had an energy that was astounding.
She also took the time to purchase appreciation gifts for the people who worked for her, and she remembered everyone's birthday. People adored her, and she inspired absolute loyalty.
She was the most beautiful person he had ever met, and it was not just physical.
For someone who had grown up in such adverse conditions, she had come out like pure gold.
Her past had not defined her. She was not hard and cynical because of it, and fame and fortune had not made her callous and immune to the needs and feelings of others.