Chapter 19
I frown in my darkness. What is that? Whale music? Opening my eyes, staying still on my back, I scan my surroundings. Before I can even begin to piece together where I am, the soreness between my thighs tells me. I drop my head to the side, smelling he’s close, and the moment I set eyes on him, I’m fully awake. Fully alert.
My heart thrums its presence. “Oh shit,” I whisper. He’s on his front, his mouth open, his breathing quiet. Stunning, beautiful man. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” A replay of yesterday and last night parades through my mind. Amazing.
Worrying.
“Oh shit.” I grab a pillow and pull it over my face, grimacing. Aching. In the best possible way.
“What are you hiding from?”
I lift the pillow and peek out. Jude’s not moved but his eyes are open.
“Morning,” I say with a touch of awkwardness, which is crazy after yesterday. There can’t be an inch of my body he doesn’t know, hasn’t kissed or felt. And I’m confident I know every inch of the masterpiece that is Jude Harrison. At least, every inch of his body. What about his mind?
“Morning.” He props himself up on his forearms, his dazzling, sleepy eyes scanning my face. They’re lighter this morning. A greeny grey. Calm.
How can he look so fucking perfect with bedhead? Morning. That’s all he’s groggily said. And I’m giddy. Ridiculous.
He continues to study me, thoughtful.
“What?” I ask. “What are you looking at?”
“You.” Slipping a hand over my stomach, he drags me closer by my hip, getting on top of me. I’m cocooned, his arms framing my head. “Is that a problem?” He drops his mouth close to mine, subtly flexing his hips into me, and my rousing brain and body answer to his call. It’s true. Never enough. It’s like someone’s swept in and swept away my senses.
“No problem.” I lift and catch his mouth, and he hums happily as we kiss, my arms circling his shoulders, my legs his waist. No problem at all. He throbs against me. Something needy and greedy inside me begs for him all over again. Never, ever enough. I groan into his mouth, flexing my hips up, and he slips into me quietly and slowly, breaking our kiss to retreat into my neck.
“God.” He stills, buried deep, absorbing my throbbing walls, and I wait patiently for him to move, stroking softly across his warm skin, feeling so calm. And when he does move, the world lights up in tiny but powerful explosions of light.
It’s serene, the pace easy, the build gradual. The need inside hasn’t dulled after a marathon of Jude Harrison yesterday. Scarily, I’m only left more insatiable.
I float away, absorbing his every drive, arching and relaxing, feeling and stroking his back. “This is the best wake up,” I murmur, nudging his face from my neck, needing his lips on mine, kissing me to release.
“Agree,” he says on a whisper, turning his head one way, swirling his tongue, biting my lip, before tilting, taking another angle, moaning. I move my hands to his bare arse and apply pressure, stroking over the solid rocks of flesh, sinking my nails in. He grunts, I swallow it, he moans, I reply with my own.
Bliss.
Breaking away, Jude gazes down at me, still rocking into me, a sheen of sweat peppering his brow, strands of his hair falling onto it and sticking. My hands stroke up to his shoulders, into his hair, and push it back, giving me all of his divine face.
His jaw tightens. “Amelia,” he whispers, my name sounding strained and urgent. “Fuck, Amelia.” He lowers his face back into my neck, his pace rising to another level. My blood pumps harder, faster, and hotter, and I know when he’s on the cusp because he sinks his teeth into my flesh, biting down lightly.
“Are you coming?” I ask, and he nods, grinding, pushing deep. It’s easy to go with him. Natural.
Sucking in air and holding it, I lock down every muscle around his shaft and roll over the edge, pulsating around him as he curses, his body rigid but shaking all over me. And peace floats down over us, the tingles strong but bearable.
Perfect.
Jude gasps lightly, licking the spot where his teeth held on, dotting kisses across my throat. And we rest, holding each other. Recovering. I might need a week to get over this.
Or a lifetime.
My lids become heavy, the weight of Jude unfamiliar but natural as he hums across my neck, and I lie beneath him, relaxed, content, his softening dick still submerged.
“You smell yummy.” He moves slowly and with effort, and kisses the end of my nose. I hum sleepily. He chuckles. That sound alone gives me the energy to open my eyes. I’m immediately hypnotised at the sight of him, and my resting heart picks up its pace again. He must surely feel it against him. Fuck. A lock of hair falls onto his forehead, and I instinctively push it back over his ear. I feel nothing but wonder as he looks down at me, unabashed. “What’s happening?” he whispers, revisiting last night.
I shake my head mildly, unsure if I have the energy or headspace to go there right now. I’ve loved every moment I’ve spent with him. The small blip in the steam room aside. Jude Harrison seems too good to be true. He frightened me the second I saw him and my body reacted in a way I’ve never experienced. Uninhibited attraction. But with each encounter, that fear grew. Now?
I hardly want to admit how I’m feeling. Overwhelmed. Blindsided. And so much more.
Jude sighs and kisses me chastely, rolling off and reaching for the machine on the bedside. The sound of whale calls stops. “I should be in the gym,” he says, falling to his back.
“Me too.”
Cocking me a sideways smirk, he stretches out, every limb lengthening, every muscle enhanced. Christ alive. “Do you want to work out together?”
Interested, I prop myself up on my elbow, unable to resist tracing over the ripples on his stomach. “And what would you have me do?”
He pouts and matches my position, facing me. “I’d get you sweaty and wet.” He reaches forward and tweaks my nipple. I yelp. “Among other things.”
“I’d like a full, comprehensive training plan before I commit.”
“You want details?”
I nod, biting at my lip. Listen to me. I may as well be on my knees for him. “How will you make me sweaty and wet ?”
He shoots up and pins me to the bed, biting at my cheek, and I laugh, squirming, getting rubbed in all the right places. “With little effort, it seems.” Pulling back, he cups my face and scrunches his nose to match mine. “You’re insatiable.” Shifting, he sits on the edge of the bed and picks up his phone, raking a hand through his hair to pull it off his face.
I’m giddy as I sit up, ready to go in search of my own phone to check my emails, but I catch sight of the time on the nature machine, and it stops me in my tracks. “Oh no.”
Jude looks over his shoulder at me. “What?”
I groan and fall to my back again. How the hell did I sleep in until ten thirty? Dumb question. “I’ve got to be at my parents’ for lunch at noon.” And I’m in Oxfordshire. Fuck it. “Are any of your chauffeurs available to take me back to London?”
“I’ll check.” Jude rises and wanders off, and I’m momentarily distracted from my lateness. I would so rather stay. Can’t.
Grabbing the sheets, I groan and haul them over my head, wincing when the soreness between my legs screams. I’m aching, I’m tired.
And I’ve never felt so good.
What’s happening?
“They’re all out driving guests.”
I push the sheets back and find Jude pulling on some boxers. “Shit.”
“I’ll take you.”
I wince some more. “All the way back into London?”
“Sure.”
“You could just drop me off at the nearest train station.”
“Amelia, it’s not a problem.”
“It’ll be a big chunk of your day gone going there and back.”
Jude comes to the bed and hauls me out of it, standing me up and clenching my cheeks. “It’s not a problem,” he repeats. “Okay?”
“But—”
“Are you arguing with me?” His face is suddenly stern, his head tilted.
I scowl. “And if I am?”
A wicked glint in his eyes blinds me as he reaches around to my bare arse and digs his fingertips in. I yelp, grabbing his arms, shooting up to my tippy-toes. My lips press together.
“Are you arguing with me, Amelia?”
I shake my head, leaning back when his face comes closer. “Never,” I whisper.
“Good.” He swoops in and sends me dizzy with a deep, hot kiss, and I’m putty in his hands again. I’m not going to think too deeply about this. He’s my only chance of making it to my parents’ on time. I’m never late, and I really don’t want to explain to my parents why I am.
“I need to get my stuff from the fancy suite you booked out for me not to sleep in,” I say around his mouth.
“I’ll go get your stuff, you take a shower.” He swats my arse and leaves to fetch my things, and I watch him go, something new and alive inside screaming for more. Not sex, although I’ll happily take it. But this feeling of utter contentment.