Chapter 15 #2
His tongue worked fervently and as soon as he shifted one hand, thrusting several fingers deep inside, I allowed a single strangled cry.
Light flashed across my field of vision in vivid colors all while jolts of electricity sparked every inch of skin.
“Come for me. Be a good girl and come on my tongue.”
Hearing his voice drop to that rough, desperate timbre did something to my mind. Suddenly, the entire room faded into nothing but the heat of his skin and the beautiful, broken sounds he was making just for me.
The control was shattered, my body responding to the amazing intensity and masterful skills of his tongue. An orgasm swept up from my toes, slashing into every muscle. He didn’t stop, using both his tongue and his fingers to keep me on a high, utter ecstasy that I hadn’t known existed.
This was a moment of absolute surrender, letting go of fears and worries, every abstract thought and concern shoved aside.
He slowed the rhythm, allowing me to catch my breath, but only for so long. With another sweet wave eager to rip at my defenses, I hung my head, staring while he brought me to another climax.
I was weak all over, incapable of feeling anything but the pulsing sensations thrumming through my core.
I wasn’t certain what to expect next, but suddenly, I was in his arms and he was standing, taking a few steps to place me safely on the couch. When he backed away, I reached for him, but he cocked his head. He was telling me to be patient.
To wait until he was ready for more.
In some ways, the request without words was cruel. But then again, as he began to unbutton his shirt, I realized I was about to be given a show.
I rose onto my knees, filled with eager anticipation.
The silence in the room was equally oppressive, but in the moment when he finally yanked his shirt off from the back collar, the only sound needed was the rapid beating of my heart.
His upper torso was a creation of beauty. Broad shoulders filling a doorway. A sculpted chest leading to carved six-pack abs. And the deep V cut leading under the waistband of his trousers. I was blown away by how perfect every inch was.
He never blinked as he kicked off his shoes, but a slow smile curled across his face. One of knowing. One of planning. As he shoved his trousers and silky black boxers down his thighs, my eyes were along for the ride.
While I sensed this was just another reminder he was in control, he didn’t waste time. Within seconds, he was standing fully naked, peering at me with hooded eyes while rubbing the flats of his hands down his chest.
First, I bit my lower lip to keep from offering a single sound, but when he rolled his hand down his abdomen to his cock, I shoved a single finger into my mouth.
The sound of me sucking brought a deep chuckle.
Every time he laughed, every low and husky growl kept my mind spinning and my body trembling.
I’d never been in awe of a man before. Yes, some were incredibly handsome, others considered rugged.
There were some who would make the perfect GQ models while others embraced their imperfections likes badges of honor.
And another group could walk into any room and within seconds, be in full control.
Not only because of their presence or their voice, but simply by a look given.
With Christian, he was all of the above and more.
He was also arrogant, accepting nothing less than perfection.
I could only imagine what working for him would be like.
His powerful, demanding demeanor was easy to see by the way he wore his tailored suits and the fact he changed watches like I did my underwear.
All to be expected from someone with extreme wealth.
All attractive even if daunting for any woman. That wasn’t what made him so different. It was the darkness residing in his soul, not merely dangerous to anyone daring to betray him. There was more and that’s what I couldn’t put my finger on.
It both excited and terrified me.
I knew if I was sucked into his world, there would be no escape. And that world had its own set of rules. His rules. The ones he required to be obeyed without question.
And if and when someone failed to do so? Honestly, my instinct told me they wouldn’t ultimately survive.
That should terrify me. Right? Not excite me.
But here I was breathless, eager and willing to surrender. What in the hell did that say about me?
As he’d done before, he took a deep breath, but there was more weight to his simple action. He wasn’t just sizing me up. He was providing the final opportunity to break free of his spell.
Or perhaps I should call it his curse.
I had no intention of going anywhere.
He closed the distance and when he was standing right in front of me, he cupped the side of my face.
The hold was gentle where it had been so possessive before, caressing my skin as he peered down at me.
I had no clue what he was thinking, but in the reflected light, his eyes no longer held the amazing shimmer of silver as usual.
They were several shades darker. As if the man had shifted into an alternate personality.
“So beautiful,” he said. They were dark and almost angry words.
I found myself quivering more than before. Was I suddenly worried about proving myself? That was silly. We wouldn’t be here if that was necessary.
“What do you want, Penelope?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“The first word that comes to mind.”
“That’s easy. Everything. I want everything.”
And I did. Every emotion. Every fear. Every indulgence. All the hard work and all the pain. All the tears. All the joys. I wanted it all.
He lowered his head until our lips were almost touching, still stroking my skin with the gentleness of a giant. “Then that’s what you will have. Everything.”
I expected he’d join me on the couch, but he had something else in mind.
Suddenly, the world tilted all around me.
His arms locked securely beneath my knees and back, he lifted me effortlessly.
As he moved away from the piece of furniture, it felt as if I’d fallen directly into a scene from one of the many romance books I’d read.
However, there was a distinct difference other than with him being gorgeous flesh and blood.
It felt as if this was just the beginning, yet of nothing one would consider traditional.
It was that strange sense of knowing, of accepting whatever we were sharing had no true boundaries that both excited and kept me on edge.
I instinctively looped my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder.
The steady, rhythmic thud of his heart against my cheek instantly quieted my racing thoughts.
As he carried me through the doorway, the musky, warm scent of him enveloped me.
The electric sensations weren’t just about being carried.
It was about the quiet certainty in his stride that made me feel completely safe letting go of control.
A tiny part of me wanted to confess he didn’t need to be so romantic, but why would I do that? Why would I ever toss aside what came naturally to him and what I so richly deserved?
Evidently a certain level of prima donna existed within me.
The views were just as spectacular in the bedroom of the suite, perhaps even more so given the corner location. With the blinds and drapes wide open, both the shimmering of the moon and the waterfront accent lights provided enough light that no other was needed.
His eyes never left mine as he approached the bed, yanking down the covers while keeping me nestled against the electric heat of his body.
When he eased me onto the center of the sheets, he did so with such precision and such distinct timing I wasn’t certain what to think. Very few men would ever consider going to all this trouble, which added to my theory there was more to this.
As if an experiment of some kind or perhaps testing my resolve.
The craziness of my thoughts wasn’t easy to shove aside, especially as he fanned my hair on the pillow, creating a halo. There was nothing ominous about his actions, but butterflies had already formed in my stomach.
Maybe I was fearful I was enjoying a luscious dream, soon to wake up.
He took his time to remove his watch while still standing over me, placing it just so on the nightstand. When he climbed onto the bed, his actions reminded me of a predator stalking his prey. I lifted my arms, bending them at the elbow while he used his knee to push my legs further apart.
With both hands beside me near mine, he leaned over inch by inch, leaving me holding my breath. When he brushed his lips across mine, I arched my back, my involuntary eagerness rewarded with a dark chuckle.
Christian took his time kissing my lips only without using his tongue. The act left me aching all over. For him. For all of him. I was shocked that he was already hard again, but there was no denying him.
Unable to resist, I placed the tips of my fingers against his chest, marveling at how the heat shared between us seared my skin.
While he didn’t stop me, his breathing instantly increased and his gaze hardened. Why did I suddenly have the feeling he wasn’t used to being touched with passion or care? The thought saddened me.
I didn’t stop, caressing his chest while allowing my gaze to follow. Instead of touching his cock as before, I brushed my fingers from one hipbone to the other before rolling them up his right arm.
When I dared look into his eyes again, I was pulled into yet another layer of darkness. He held the gaze as did I, and for me, being uncertain of the change kept me trembling.
“Are you frightened of me?” The question seemed so out of the blue I didn’t answer right away.
“Should I be?”
“Most people are.”
“I’m not most people,” I admitted.
He narrowed his eyes. “No, Penelope. You are not.”