Chapter 4
Nate
New Orleans, evening…
I threw the napkin on the table and reached for her hand. Her expression was one of complete surprise as I said, “Dance with me.”
Like a command.
Her lips quirked up and she seemed to understand what I’d done.
Given her an order. She nodded demurely and I led her to a small sliver of a dance floor, near where the woman with the microphone was singing a Billie Holiday number.
I pulled Casey in close. She tensed briefly, as if unsure where to rest her hands, whether on my shoulders or waist. I planted them firmly on my shoulders, and wrapped my arms around her sexy, slim waist that fit perfectly in my hands.
“Just relax and let me lead,” I said, whispering in her ear, a waft of her tropical scent drifting by my nostrils.
She shivered briefly against me, and that nearly did me in.
I stayed strong, swaying gently, guiding her in slow, sensuous moves.
“I’ll show you how to let go, but you have to trust me.
And that’s where it starts. With trust. I’m not a Dom, you’re not my sub—we’re not going to sign a contract.
But I will show you how good it will feel when you give up control. ”
She breathed in sharply, as if acclimating to new air on a distant planet. “Why do men like a woman to give up control? What is it about our lack of control that men like so much?”
“It’s not that we like your lack of control.
But a man wants a woman who gives herself to him.
He wants a woman to melt into his arms, to get aroused from a kiss on the back of her neck,” I said, and traced a fingertip gently under her hair, watching her reaction as she drew in a breath.
“It’s the hand on her arm.” I trailed my fingers down her bare skin to her elbow as I leaned in to whisper, “Or warm breath near her ear.” She gasped, and I kept going.
“He wants a woman who’s so turned on, she’ll nearly beg for it.
He wants her abandon. He wants to be the only one to make her feel that way. ”
She parted her lips to speak, but I shushed her with my fingertip against them. God, I was so tempted to let her suck on my finger right now, to watch her simulate a blow job, to let her show me what she could do. But that would come later. I needed to kiss her first.
That is, after I teased her some more.
“At some point soon, some point very, very soon, I’m going to kiss you,” I said, watching the expression in her eyes shift to a heady kind of desire.
Her fingers curved into my shoulders, holding on tightly to me.
“You’re going to close your eyes,” I said, and then her lids fluttered closed.
“And you’re not going to know when it’s coming.
You’re going to want it. Your body is going to be crying out for a kiss,” I said, my voice husky and raw as her chest rose and fell, and she moved closer to me as we swayed.
I cupped the back of her neck, watching her response to every touch, from the way her lips parted as I threaded my hands through her hair, to how she leaned back into me, almost relishing the way my fingers ran slowly through those soft, wavy strands.
A sigh came next, a desperate needy sigh, and a barely-there arch of her back, her body seeking out more contact.
“But I might not kiss you yet. I might run my hands down your arms,” I said, then did just that.
“Or maybe I’ll stop telling you what I’m going to do. ”
I swore she murmured a no, but then her sounds were swallowed by a sexy gasp as I dipped my mouth to her chest, kissing her above her breasts. Immediately, she reached for me, her hands shooting around my neck.
I tsk-ed her, moving her hands, gently but firmly, back to my shoulders.
Then I yanked her closer, so our bodies were snug and neatly aligned.
I pressed my groin against her hip, letting her know how immensely turned on I was.
A small moan escaped her lips, and her reaction thrilled me.
Gently pushing her hair off her shoulder, I pressed my lips in a soft, sweet kiss on her collarbone.
She wriggled closer as I mapped a path up her neck, the tip of my tongue tasting her as I found her ear, then nipped on her earlobe.
“And only then, after I’ve teased you, after I’ve made you think the kiss might come at any second, will I actually kiss you. But you’ll need to say please.”
“Please,” she whispered and her voice was so barren, so strung out with need that I knew I’d succeeded at my first mission. Not a lesson, but rather my driving goal to turn her arousal meter way past high.
“I need you to keep your hands on my shoulders, Casey. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“No place else. Got it?” I asked, and it pained me to ask her to hold back. But this was what she wanted. To learn how.
“I promise to be good,” she said, offering a sexy smile as she dug her fingers into my shoulders to emphasize that she was listening.
“You’re such a good student,” I whispered.
She licked her lips once, and I took my time, wanting to memorize every second of my first kiss with the woman I’d lusted after for years.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were open, and her expression was so damn inviting.
I ran a finger against her lips, eliciting another small gasp from her.
I couldn’t wait anymore. Our lips met, and for the first few seconds it was soft and sweet, a gentle taste and tease.
It was an exploration—her lips, her mouth, her breath that ghosted over me.
She tasted like chocolate, and I relished every millimeter of her lips, tugging on her bottom one, then nipping the top with my teeth, making her want me.
Making her want so much more. My hands trailed down the bare flesh of her arms, and I felt the goosebumps rise on her skin, all from the teasing, taunting kisses.
The swell of her lips, the curve of her mouth, the sweetness of her breath—all of it collided in my senses, along with my heightened awareness of this intensely sexually aware woman who was now asking me to take her to new places and explore uncharted territory.
It had never occurred to me that we wouldn’t kiss well. I had always been certain that if we ever crossed that line, we would kiss perfectly. Passionately. The kind of kisses that demolished your grip on the here and now, that sent you spinning into blissful oblivion.
And I was right.
“Do you want me to kiss you more?” I whispered hotly.
“Yes,” she said with a hypnotic nod.
“What do you say?”
“Please,” she murmured, as she pushed against me and I felt the heat between her legs.
My mind took off, imagining how silky hot she’d feel when I touched her. “I only have one goal now. To give you the kind of kiss that makes you hot and wet and desperate for more.”
“Oh god,” she said, then my tongue found hers, waiting, ready, so fucking eager.
There was no pause. No transition. The speed simply shot to the stratosphere.
Our mouths united in a hot and hungry fusion.
Part of me wasn’t thinking at all; I was only feeling all this desire that swamped my body.
Then another part of me was thinking intensely about how I was finally kissing her, and it was better than I’d imagined as our mouths crashed and our lips came together in that greedy union that overpowered my brain and took hold of my mind.
I didn’t care that we were in a bistro, and others might be watching.
I couldn’t care because she kissed me back hard and passionately in a sweet devouring of the senses.
I stopped controlling her and let her go wild as she laced her hands into my hair, grasping, pulling, tugging.
She was so fiery, so intoxicating, and it was like being buzzed on the kind of kisses that only spelled one thing, flashing like a neon sign advertising Hot Sex, Coming Soon.
She ran her fingers through my hair, her hands curling around my skull. She rocked her hips against me, and soon this was about to become a very indecent public display of affection on the tiny dance floor. I barely cared though, not as she moaned into my mouth.
It wasn’t going to be easy to teach her to let me lead all the time when I wanted this kind of wildness from her, too, this kind of abandon as she grabbed at my hair, her fingers greedily diving in and holding on.
But I was determined to give her what she’d asked for, so I reached for her hands, gripped them tightly and brought them down to her waist.
I stepped away. The look in her eyes was hazy. She was panting.
The loss of contact with her lithe, eager body was a cold glass of ice water thrown in my face. But I had a better plan.
“You stopped,” she said, on a pout.
“You’re not learning if your hands are all over me. So you’ll need to get down on your knees,” I said, and her eyes flared with a wild awareness of what I was asking. “Hotel. Now.”