CHAPTER 14 #3
And what a bodysuit it was. Although he’d only allowed himself furtive glances, he’d noticed every detail.
The royal-blue material that looked silky to the touch.
The three bow closures at the front, the beading on the black lace edge that traced the outline of her breasts.
The built-in mesh bra that concealed nothing, showcasing her pebbled pink nipples, making his hands restless and his mouth water.
Now she was sprawled across him, her arm around his waist, cheek on his chest, her breath warming his skin with every soft exhale. He’d slept three hours at the most, awakening to realize that middle-of-the-night wood was actually a thing.
Not since Tina had he done this. In two years, Tina had never evoked this level of feeling.
It was want but bordered on need, and it scared the hell out of him.
He had anticipated a vigorous session of something similar to what they’d had in Vegas and had ended up with …
what, exactly? Something he’d never had with anyone and that he preferred not to analyze.
Claire moaned in her sleep. Her hand moved over his chest, back and forth, then lower, to rest on his abs.
Ian grimaced. This was literally hard, goddamn it. He was almost tempted to visit the bathroom to finally release the ache, but no way would he disturb her deep slumber. She had admitted she hadn’t slept well since her mother’s diagnosis.
What had he gotten himself into, pursuing her this way?
The man he’d been before meeting Claire would have laughed his ass off at everything he was doing.
Strawberries and fresh Chantilly cream, his go-to for successful seduction, had led to dipping the berries in a bowl and watching old Looney Tunes cartoons instead of spraying the sweet froth out of the dispenser to eat it off a woman’s erogenous zones.
The inexplicable part was how much he’d enjoyed himself even though there’d been zero sex.
And now Claire’s hand was dangerously migrating south, gliding over his lower abs, making little circles, and he had to lie there and let it happen. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force a disconnect.
Yeah, right.
“Ian?”
Her soft, sleepy voice brought him to instant awareness. “Yeah?”
“You’re real,” she whispered.
Her hand drifted upward, over his chest, up his neck. He felt every muscle harden in his effort to stay still under her gentle exploration.
She traced his lips with her index finger.
He kissed it. “Yes, Penny. I’m real.”
Her palm moved to his cheek, and she sighed. “I dreamed of you again.”
“Again?” He smiled.
“Again.” Her lips grazed the corner of his mouth. She kissed him softly, sweetly, opening for him to delve inside for a leisurely exploration.
Maybe it was he who was dreaming because the next second, she took his hand and placed it on her breast, her kiss turning deliberate and demanding. His thumb found her nipple, circling, feeling it instantly harden under his touch.
She arched her back. “Yes.”
He wished it weren’t so dark. He could barely distinguish her features in the only light from one small lamp across the room. But he was not breaking this spell by turning on any more lights.
His other four fingers cupped the underside of her breast as his thumb continued lightly stroking. Her breath came quicker, and she threw a leg over both of his, tilting her pelvis in a thrust his body immediately understood and countered.
He gripped her backside, pulling her closer, marveling at how perfectly their bodies fit. If ever there was a woman physically made for him, she was the one.
Her hips began thrusting in a rhythm as old as time itself. “We were naked.”
“Mm. Sounds like a good dream.”
She hooked a finger in the elastic of his boxers and pulled down, tacitly asking him to take them off.
His heart pounded as he removed them. She started to untie the bow closures at the front of her bodysuit, but he caught her wrist.
“Let me do that,” he whispered.
He kissed her jaw, her chin, her neck, then lingered for a beat, nuzzling, before moving to the first of the three bows.
He gripped the end of one between his teeth and tugged.
The thin ribbon gave easily. One by one, he untied the other two, and the entire silk garment parted, baring her gorgeous breasts, which swayed gently apart.
He palmed them, pushing them together. His tongue slipped into the dip of her cleavage, fluttering.
She gasped and arched her back. He tugged the snaps, and in moments, Claire was naked in his bed again, save for a fine gold chain.
Finally.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he murmured against her silky skin.
She lay there, a feast for his hungry eyes in the low light, arching her back beautifully, her hair spread like copper silk over the pillow.
Her fingertips played over his shoulders. She sighed. “You feel so good. So good.”
He held his breath, waiting for what she would do next.
“Why is it like that?” Her voice was barely audible.
He understood her cryptic question about their unbelievable chemistry. “It’s us.”
“I’ve never had this with anyone else before. You’re like an addiction, and I can’t seem to get enough of …whatever this is that you have.”
“I’ll give it to you, Penny. However much you want to take.”
“Give it to me, then,” she said, sitting up and brushing her lips over his. “Give me everything.”
“Right now?”
“Right now. Maybe more later.”
Did that mean what he wanted it to mean? Before he could read more into her words, she pushed him.
“Lie back. I want to …”
He wasn’t used to giving up control in bed or anywhere. But he had handed some of it to her on the first night, and it had been a perfect give-and-take he’d never had with anyone but her.
He gave her one last nuzzle, then settled down, arms at his sides, palms up. “I’m all yours.”
She was up on her knees the second the words left his lips, her long hair gliding over his chest as she bent over him and sucked on his neck. He felt the familiar sting and winced, then closed his eyes as she licked her way to his collarbone.
His stomach tightened in anticipation as she kissed her way down his torso, her lips tracing the outline of each muscle.
Her fingertips lingered right above his belly button, back and forth, sending his heartbeat racing with the faster and faster rise and fall of his abs.
When she reached under his pillow, he almost laughed. She knew that was where he always stashed the condoms.
The laughter died on his lips when she extracted one from its packet and blew into it, then caught it between her lips and bent over him.
Jesus. This was new.
He fisted the sheets. Her hair was a silken curtain brushing his ribcage as she slipped the rubber on with her mouth and gripped him to slide it into place. She stroked him once, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Claire straddled him then, settling herself over his shaft, catching his hands to hold them on either side of his head, just as she had in the park. Only now, it was a million times more intense.
“What are you doing, Penny?”
“Making it up to you.” She leaned forward, positioning him at her entrance, then slowly, slowly sank down, sheathing him to the hilt. He shuddered, fingers intertwining with hers.
He let her set the pace. Her moves were languid. His chest squeezed at the sight of her rocking above him, her eyes closed, lips parted, her hair spilling over her swaying breasts, her nipples peeking between the strands.
She was a nymph, a mystical creature.
His kryptonite.
In no time, he was close. He heard his breath turn raspy as he squeezed her fingers, trying to signal her to quicken the pace.
Instead, she stopped. “Not yet.” Leaning down, she rolled her hips and kissed him, her tongue moving in the same slow, maddening circle.
She had every intention of prolonging this until he went insane, it seemed. Every time he got close, she stopped, over and over again.
It was exquisite torture. At long last, her barely audible moans started, and he hardened to steel at the familiar telltale sound.
She gripped his fingers even tighter as she convulsed around him. “Ian!” She gasped.
He’d never felt stronger pulses. With a grunt of both pleasure and relief, he followed her over the edge, going so long that he saw lights flash behind his eyelids toward the end.