Chapter Twenty-Four
Steele
I carried her back to my room, wanting her on every inch of my king-sized bed. The significance was huge, even if she didn’t know it. I’d never had anyone in this bed before. My place in London was smaller and right in the city so I often took women in my bed there, but in Paris I usually brought them to one of the hotels I owned.
“Lie back and close your eyes,” I told her.
She wrinkled her brow, not moving.
“Do you trust me?”
“No,” she whispered, but she obeyed anyway. Her head hit the satin pillow, and she straightened her legs, her toes slightly pointed. She looked beautiful, her body spread out before me. Her thighs were pressed together, and her breathing had changed. I could tell she was nervous about what I was going to do. I wanted to tie her up and take her roughly, but she had been through so much that I didn’t feel right about it. Instead, inspiration struck and I grabbed the rose from my nightstand and crawled next to her on the bed. It has been placed in a vase, no doubt by Quincy.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
She let out a shaky sigh, and I brought the rose to the top of her forehead. She took another breath in, and I traced her nose and her cheeks with the soft petals.
“Steele,” she moaned, wiggling a bit against the light teasing.
“Shhhhhhh, love. Hold still.” I was pulling these moves from out of nowhere. I’d never seduced a woman in bed before, never took the time to enjoy the foreplay. It was straight to business, bodies joined and then rocking together until the explosion. But now…I felt myself thicken so much it was almost painful. I’d never been this aroused before.
I drew the rose lower, across her plump lips and down her slender neck. I circled her breasts and each nipple, and then withdrew the rose and placed a wet kiss on each hardened tip. She squirmed, her breathing increasing rapidly.
“I’ve got you,” I reminded her, tracing patterns on her abdomen with the silken petals. I moved farther down, and she spread her legs for me, and I almost came right then and there. The sight of her opening for me, trusting me and wanting me, was better than the stiffest drink.
Instead of placing the rose where she wanted, I moved it down to her toes, and tickled the sole of each foot. I flinched when I saw her ankles, scabbed but healing. The guilt pooled in my stomach, but I pushed it away. Tonight was just about pleasure. I finally traced the inside of her thighs, and she bucked her hips, needing every part of me. I hoped and prayed that these types of encounters would leave her needing me in other ways too. As long as I kept her close, she would get there. She would want me—all of me. I knew it.
I threw the rose aside and kissed her center, and her eyes flew open.
“Please,” she begged, and I separated her folds and circled her clit with my tongue. She writhed on the bed, and I stopped, not wanting her to finish this way. She was soaked, and I knew that, unlike that first time, I’d have no trouble sinking deep inside her.
My hips moved between her legs, and I pushed her knees wider apart and back towards her chest, opening her wide. She tensed, and I knew she felt uncomfortable, being so bared to me. In that one moment, she decided to trust me, as I had her in the most intimate position a person could be in.
I kissed her mouth, hoping to take away some of her tension. She was responsive, so I pressed down on the head of my cock and slipped inside.
I normally went hard and fast, setting up a punishing rhythm that brought me and my partner to ecstasy as quickly as possible, but being inside Ashlynn was so exquisite that I didn’t want to rush it. Our two times together I’d moved quickly, and she did as well, eager to reach our climax and be finished with each other. We took what we wanted and chalked our desire for each other up to pure physicality. But as I moved within her tonight, and watched her eyes widen and her chest move with each breath, I felt the most intense pleasure I’d ever known.
“Ashlynn,” I moaned, withdrawing completely so I could re-enter her and feel her inner muscles squeeze every bit of my nine inches.
“Steele,” she murmured, running her hands over my shoulders. “Steele!”
“No. Not Steele. Daniel.” I whispered my name in her ear, the name my mother gave me right before she died in that jail cell. My speech was a bit shaky from the raw pleasure I was experiencing.
Our eyes met, and I acknowledged the connection between us. I’d tried to shove it away, tried to deny its existence, but it was there. She knew it. I knew it.
“D.S.,” she mused, biting her lip as I thrusted again.
I nodded, and then she cried my real name, and I came, putting my seed exactly where it wanted to be. I came for almost a full minute, my entire body seizing up as my cock bathed her insides with my essence. I really hadn’t thought much about getting a woman pregnant, and when I did think about it, it was usually in a panicked state. But now I imagined my sperm moving up inside of her, and I got hard all over again. Even though the doctor had assured me there was no chance she was currently fertile, I wanted to pump her so full that she felt it drip out of her for the next twenty-four hours. I wanted her to remember who was between her thighs.