Chapter Eighteen

Amina. 

I reached up and tangled my fingers into his hair, holding his head as I kissed him back and met demand with demand. My hips rose up to thrust against him, and his taste and smell invaded me like a drug. My skin burned as all the pent up desire and anger I had buried deep burst out of my body in a flood of heat. I was ravenous for his taste, for his hands to strip off my clothes and take me right there against the wall, and I reveled in his wild response that was so opposite his rigid control.

An alarm bell rang in my head and cut through the mist of sexual fog. He had been drinking. If we were interrupted, he might calmly step away with a reasonable explanation to why sex would not be a good idea. The knowledge he’d done it twice before skated along the edges of my mind, until I dragged my mouth from his and yanked the hair at the nape of his neck.

His head shot up. He blinked as if coming to from a long sleep, and I caught the question held in his eyes. I made myself say the one thing I didn’t want to say.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

I held my breath and waited for him to step back, waited for the fog to clear from his mind, waited for him to agree. I got my second shock of the night when he smiled down at me a dangerous, masculine smile that promised unspoken pleasures and raw, hungry sex.

“I don’t care.”

He easily tossed me over his shoulder as if I were a china doll instead of an A****n. With an easy grace, he climbed the stairs and headed straight for my room. My breasts bounced against his back and my belly was crushed against the hard bone of his shoulder, but I couldn’t dredge up any words to inform him this was ancient caveman behavior and no longer acceptable.

Because I loved every moment.

He tossed me on the bed and finished his strip tease. Unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor. Slid the belt buckle from the loops and lowered the zipper. Kicked off his pants in one swift motion. All of this was done as I sprawled in the center of the bed and stared at him as if he were my own private Chippendale dancer.

Nope, he was even better.

All lean sinewy muscle and gilded blond hair. Trim hips and hard thighs and an erection that stood proudly between his legs, hidden from view by a pair of black briefs. My fingers curled into my palms as my fantasy joined me on the bed and settled against me.

“Your turn.” His voice scraped like sandpaper over my ears, one side rough, the other smooth. He reached behind me and slid the zipper down.

My muscles trembled as his hands settled over the spaghetti straps of my dress and stopped. My breath hitched as seconds beat past, and the heavy weight of his palm pressed against the top of my breasts. My heart pounded so loud I knew he heard it. Anticipation cranked hard between us until I battled a scream, and then he hooked his index finger underneath the strap and pulled it down.

Oh, God.

Cool air rushed over my skin, but his gaze scorched as he drank in the flesh revealed. My nipples hardened into points as the silk caught briefly, then continued on its path. He gently maneuvered my arms out of the holes, then moved the fabric even lower, exposing my belly and hips. He stopped and studied every inch of my nakedness with a silent intensity that unnerved me, until I longed to say something but the words died in my throat.

His hands settled on my hips. He grasped the delicate fabric at both sides and began to work it down over my thighs, calves, then tore it away from my sandals and tossed the dress to the floor.

Our breath rose and fell together in an uneven, choppy rhythm. Liquid heat pulsed and pounded between my thighs, masked by the scrap of red panties I had pulled on with no one in mind but myself. But now Jake focused his attention in that direction, still saying nothing, studying the apex of my thighs, his thumb lightly brushing the line of my panties as I sucked in my breath and waited. As if he had all the time in the world, he began to play with the elastic band as if testing its strength. My entire focus shrank to those five fingers and the slow torture they bestowed. He explored the crease at my thighs, then traced an invisible line down the center of my body. He watched every reaction in silence, as if I were his love slave and he was a king used to obedience.

I exploded with sheer frustration.

“Damn it, are you going to sit there and look at me all night or are you going to do something?”

He gave a low chuckle. That full lower lip twitched. He hooked one leg around mine and moved over me in one quick motion. Hip to hip, thigh to thigh. Every muscle pressed against mine. Each delicious inch of his arousal cradled between my legs. He worked the pins from my hair and combed through the strands so the waves tumbled over my shoulders. Then he dipped his mouth and nipped at my earlobe, teased the tip of his tongue against the delicate shell of my ear, then blew out a warm stream of breath. I jumped.

He laughed and whispered against my temple. “I intend on doing something. I have thought about looking at you for so long, I figured I would indulge. But it looks like you also have a temper in bed, so I’ll move it along.”

“Jake”

“Not now, Amina. I’m busy.”

He covered my mouth with his and plunged his tongue deep into my mouth. I arched like a bow as the lightning crack of energy ripped through me. My fingers clung to him as I held on and kissed him back, drowning in the taste of Scotch and male heat. He parted my legs and tortured me with promises of his hands and his penis, until I became crazed with need, until there was no more pride or logic, just this ache to have him inside me.

His mouth moved on my breasts, sucked my nipples, and nipped with his teeth. His fingers stroked my belly and hips, and hooked under the lace to play, one long index finger moving underneath to test my heat, drenched with moisture as I cried out for more, always more.

He slid off my panties and plunged a finger deep inside, then added another, rubbing delicately over the hard nub hidden between curls, just giving me a taste of it until I cried out and my hips bucked as the climax took me hard. My body shook with pleasure as he shed his briefs and covered himself with a condom. He slid back up my silken length, interlaced all ten fingers with mine, and pressed our joined hands deep into the pillows.

I blinked up, dazed by the endless depths of his eyes, a deep, dark brown that held an array of secrets and a gleam of tenderness I had never seen before.

He pressed against me, seeking entry. Liquid warmth rushed out to ease his welcome and I lifted my hips to take him. He pressed an inch, then another. My body tightened around him and I panicked, knowing I’d finally belong to him, knowing he’d never want me in the way I needed.

He paused, almost as if he sensed my emotions. “Too fast? Talk to me.”

I shuddered with pure need as I felt him retreat one precious inch. “No, I just, I need”

“Tell me.”

A fine sheen of tears filmed over, my emotions raw and easy for him to read. “I need you to want me. Only me. Not.. ”

“Oh, Jesus.” He closed his eyes. I watched sheer agony ripple over his face. He stopped at my entrance and bent to kiss me.

He tenderly mated his tongue with mine, stroking, tracing the swollen flesh of my lips in an action that bespoke pure humbleness. And when he opened his eyes and looked into mine, I sucked in my breath as he finally let me in, let me see it all, and gave me what I needed.

The truth.

“It’s always been you. I don’t want anybody else, I don’t dream about anybody else. It’s only you.”

I cried out as he buried himself to the hilt inside of me. My body opened and accepted his swollen length, hugged him deep and demanded more. His fingers gripped mine and pressed harder into the pillow as he began to move, slowly at first, joining me to the rhythm. I climbed again with him, and the twisting spiral path tensed my muscles, stopped my breath, and teased me with each inch as I moved closer to release.

It was a raw combining of needs, rough and primitive, and I reveled in the honesty of our lovemaking as sweat slid down his forehead and my nails dug deep into his back until I exploded. Pleasure broke over in waves, and I heard him cry out as he joined me, and in that moment we were one.

He slumped and rolled so I sprawled on top of him, my cheek against his slick muscled chest, my hair spilling over my face, my arms wrapped around his waist. No thoughts claimed me in this moment, and I treasured the deep peace as I let myself go, safe in his embrace. I slid toward sleep as he held me tightly.