Chapter Seven #2
Dimly he was aware of her legs wrapped around him, her fingernails digging into him. Then she lifted her hips and he shuddered, bucking out of control.
He felt a sting near his collarbone that shot fire through his veins but he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes. He could only finish mating.
For that was what this was, he realised as their movements eventually slowed. He nestled his head in the scented crook of her shoulder, only just remembering to take most of his weight on one hip and elbow.
That hadn’t been making love. It had been too desperate, too profound. Too visceral.
His lungs laboured as shock gripped him. He’d taken her as if nothing else mattered, driven by forces older and more primitive than thought or even pleasure. Though there’d been pleasure, so profound it felt like he’d burnt off superficial layers and been reduced to the very essence of himself.
Nothing about Greer was what he’d expected in the beginning. Everything was more. She was more.
Groaning at the effort, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him, holding her close, rejoicing in the way she cuddled against him, their bodies fitting together as if made for each other.
Eventually he found his breath. ‘Was I too rough?’
Her palm pressed his chest as she tilted her head back, her eyes reflecting the same shattered wonder he felt.
‘Absolutely not. I loved it. Besides, I should be asking you that.’ She smoothed her fingers along his collarbone then pressed her lips to the spot. ‘I’m sorry. I seem to have drawn blood.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve never…’
‘Nor have I.’ He lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes. ‘But I don’t mind that you marked me.’ He revelled in it. Just as the knowledge she’d bear more than one reddened patch from his stubble made him feel satisfaction. ‘That was…’ Mind-boggling. He settled on ‘Stunning.’
Her slow-curling smile was like a caress he felt all the way to the soles of his feet.
How could a single smile rival for impact the most amazing sex he’d ever had? Conall told himself the unravelling feeling in his belly was the comedown after shattering bliss.
‘I’ll get rid of this condom.’
Nothing was guaranteed to break the mood more. Except then Greer said, ‘Kiss me first. Please.’ And how could he resist?
Before Greer, post-coital kisses hadn’t been a favourite of his.
But she’d changed that. The sharp tang of arousal might have eased but there was a different pleasure to be had in this languorous meeting of mouths, her hands cupping his face and the accommodating curves of her body melding against him.
When he finally broke away she rolled onto her back, glossy hair tousled around her shoulders and reddened lips parted, her breasts rising on a sigh.
‘Could you run a bath, please?’
‘You’re sore?’ He stiffened. He shouldn’t be surprised. Their lovemaking had been vigorous.
‘No.’ Something unexpected glinted in her half-closed eyes. ‘I’ve imagined showering with you so often, but I don’t think my legs will hold me up. But we could share a bath, don’t you think?’
She’d been imagining showering with him?
Despite his satiation and what should be bone-deep exhaustion, Conall felt a tickle stir in his loins. One look, one word from Greer and his hormones were shouting that two orgasms were nowhere near enough.
‘I absolutely know we can. Unless you want to wait until your legs have recovered.’
‘No. I’ve been waiting so long.’
He knew the feeling. He felt himself grin like a teenager with his first crush. ‘Give me a couple of minutes to run that bath.’
Greer stretched and smiled at the warm, pleasurable ache in well-used muscles. Conall had made love to her tenderly, then passionately, then again in so many ways and with such patience and thoroughness that she’d never dreamt such rapture existed.
It wasn’t even the climaxes he gave her, though they’d been spectacular. It had been his hunger for her and his determination to please, put her first and lavish such attention on her she felt like a queen.
If going to bed with her boss was a mistake, she couldn’t regret it. Conall was all she’d hoped for and more.
All night and much of the morning they’d been in bed, except when they took that luxurious bath together. She found herself grinning at the memory. When he’d suggested she rest while he got breakfast for them, she hadn’t even thought of protesting.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had waited on her like this.
Except Conall, coming to her apartment on a recent Saturday, bringing food, and if he but knew, the comfort of his presence. That was what she most treasured. She’d been feeling low since the accident, but when she was with him all that changed.
Now it must be late morning, judging by the sunlight and watercraft busy on the harbour.
What a place he had. He didn’t even have to lift his head off the pillow for a water view. Yet still it surprised her that he’d moved only months after taking the penthouse apartment.
Conall was a highflying businessman who travelled a lot, worked hard and seemed purpose-built for apartment living in the city.
She’d never imagined him in a sprawling house.
But she approved his choice. The little she’d seen of this home, with its generous proportions, gracious style and enormous garden, made her wonder how long before she could afford a house, not an apartment but somewhere with a garden.
She’d never manage anywhere like this, but she had her dreams.
‘I hope you’re hungry.’
Conall appeared in the doorway with a tray.
His jaw was etched with dark shadows that made her skin tingle.
His hair was rumpled and ridiculously appealing.
And he was naked but for the pair of grey tracksuit pants that rode so low on his hips her attention settled on his impressive musculature and stayed there.
One good tug and the fabric would be around his ankles. How could she be exhausted and voracious at the same time?
‘Clear the bedside table, would you?’
Greer shuffled up in the bed and saw the surface littered with condom wrappers. With one slide of the arm, she pushed them onto the floor.
Conall’s huff of laughter lodged somewhere behind her ribs. ‘I’ve always found your efficiency sexy.’
‘You have?’ She turned to find his attention not on the gleaming wood surface but on her naked breasts.
She hitched in a sharp breath as her body responded and saw his grip on the tray turn white-knuckled. Finally he looked up to meet her eyes, his expression rueful. ‘Always,’ he said as he set the tray down.
Greer moved back across the bed, scrabbling for the sheet to cover herself.
‘Don’t. It’s a spectacular view.’
‘I could say the same.’
Her gaze flickered to his chest. They’d managed a little sleep last night.
She’d spent that time sprawled against him, her head cushioned on his chest, the reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.
Abruptly she looked up and something seemed to click into place as their eyes met.
The nebulous feeling became a certainty.
‘We’ve done this before, haven’t we?’
For a second she thought she saw shock drag at his features. But the impression was gone so quickly she must have imagined it.
‘You remember?’ His palm covered hers as he leaned close.
‘Not remember. But when we…’
How did she put into words the feeling she’d had again and again as they made love?
Not familiarity. More a feeling of utter rightness.
No, it was more than that. She’d soaked him up with all her senses, shared herself so thoroughly it seemed like even now they were connected, not just by the touch of his hand on hers, but by something deeper she already knew at the most fundamental part of her being.
Surely first-time lovers couldn’t reach such transcendent pinnacles?
‘When we have sex…’ She felt his fingers thread through hers. ‘It feels like it’s new, but not new. Does that make sense?’
The teasing smile he’d worn as he carried breakfast was gone, replaced by a gravity that caught her breath.
‘It does.’ Conall paused, frowning, as if looking for the right words. He shrugged those wide shoulders and lifted her hand to his lips, whispering a kiss across her knuckles. ‘Your instincts are spot-on, as ever. We’ve been lovers for a while.’
Greer folded her hand around his. She blinked, hit by an emotion that was part relief that she’d been right and part regret that she couldn’t recall something so precious.
‘Greer, are you okay?’ He wrapped his other arm around her back, pulling her to him.
She was grateful for his embrace, sinking her head against his shoulder, inhaling that wonderful scent of cedar, heat and male flesh.
‘Yes, fine. Really, I am. It’s nice to know my instincts were right. It’s just…’ She shook her head, feeling foolish. ‘I wish I could remember.’
The amnesia had stolen so much, including, she suspected, some of her most precious memories.
He tilted her chin up and she lost herself in his warm midnight gaze. ‘Don’t fret over it. You’ll remember in time.’
Greer stifled a protest that there was no guarantee she would. What was the point? It was something she had no control over.
‘But however long it takes and whatever happens, I’m here, Greer. You’re not alone. You can rely on me. Remember that.’
Her pulse quickened at the intensity of his stare and his words. Wherever this relationship went, she knew Conall well enough to understand he’d stand by her if she needed him.
Strange how good that felt. Better than good.
All her life it had been her and her mum together, regularly moving, with her mother concerned Greer’s father might locate them.
After her mother died, Greer had been totally self-sufficient.
She had friends but those friendships had never been really tested.
Instinctively she knew she could rely on Conall’s promise.