He stirred, his arm tightening around my back. "Eva...?"
This time I answered him the way I couldn't before. "Let's forget," I breathed into his mouth. "Make us forget."
"Eva."
He rolled into me, peeling my shirt off with cautious movements. I was similarly tentative in undressing him. We approached each other as if each of us was breakable. The bond between us was fragile just then, both of us apprehensive about the future and the wounds we could inflict with all of our jagged edges.
His lips wrapped around my nipple, his cheeks hollowing slowly, his seduction subdued. The tender suckling felt so good I gasped and arched into his hand. He caressed my side from breast to hip and back again, over and over, gentling me as my heart raced wildly.
He kissed across my chest to the other breast, murmuring words of apology and need in a voice broken by regret and misery. His tongue lapped at the hardened point, worrying it, before surrounding it with wet heat and suction.
"Gideon." The delicate pulls expertly coaxed desire through my skittish mind. My body was already lost in him, greedily seeking the pleasure and beauty of his.
"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered. "Don't pull away."
He kissed my navel, and then moved lower, his hair caressing my stomach as he settled between my legs. He held me open with shaking hands and nuzzled my clit. His light, teasing licks through my cleft and the fluttering dips into my trembling sex took me to the edge of insanity.
My back bowed. Hoarse pleas left my lips. Tension spread through my body, tightening everything until I felt like I might snap under the pressure. And then he pushed me into orgasm with the softest nudge of the tip of his tongue.
I cried out, heated relief pulsing through my writhing body.
"I can't let you go, Eva." Gideon levered over me as I vibrated with pleasure. "I can't."
Brushing away the tear tracks from his face, I stared into his reddened eyes. His torment was painful for me to witness, hurting my heart. "I wouldn't let you if you tried."
He took himself in hand and fed his c**k slowly, carefully into me. My head pressed hard into the floor as he sank deeper, possessing my body one thick inch at a time.
When I'd taken all of him, he began to move in measured, deliberate thrusts. I closed my eyes and focused on the connection between us. Then he settled onto me, his stomach pressed to mine, and my pulse leaped with panic. Abruptly frightened, I hesitated.
"Look at me, Eva." His voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable.
I did, and saw his anguish.
"Make love to me," he begged in a breathless whisper. "Make love with me. Touch me, angel. Put your hands on me."
"Yes." My palms pressed flat to his back; then stroked over the quivering muscles to his ass. Squeezing the hard flexing flesh, I urged him to move faster, plunge deeper.
The rhythmic strokes of his heavy c**k through the clenching depths of my sex pushed ecstasy through me in heated waves. He felt so good. My legs wrapped around his plunging hips, my breath quickening as the cold knot inside me began to melt. Our gazes held.
Tears coursed down my temples. "I love you, Gideon."
"Please..." His eyes squeezed shut.
"I love you."
He lured me to orgasm with the skilled rolling of his hips, stirring his c**k inside me. My sex clenched tightly, trying to hold him, trying to keep him deep in me.
"Come, Eva," he gasped against my throat.
I struggled for it, struggled to get past the lingering apprehension that came from having him on top of me. The anxiety mingled with the desire, keeping me on edge.
He made a hoarse sound filled with pain and regret. "Need you to come, Eva...need to feel you...Please..."
Cupping my bu**ocks, he angled my h*ps and stroked over and over that sensitive spot inside me. He was tireless, relentless, f**king me long and hard until my mind lost control of my body and I came violently. I bit his shoulder to stem my cries as I shook beneath him, the tiny muscles inside me trembling with ecstatic ripples. He groaned deep in his chest, a serrated sound of tormented pleasure.
"More," he ordered, deepening his drives to give me that delectable bite of soreness. That he once again trusted us both enough to introduce that little touch of pain chased away the last of my reservations. As much as we trusted each other, we were learning to trust our instincts, too.
I came again, ferociously, my toes curling until they cramped. I felt the familiar tension grip Gideon and tightened my grasp on his hips, spurring him on, desperate to feel him spurting inside me.
"No!" He wrenched away, falling to his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. Punishing himself by denying his body the comfort and pleasure of mine.
His chest heaved and glistened with sweat. His c**k lay heavily on his belly, brutal-looking with its broad purpled head and thick roping of veins.
I dove for it with hands and mouth, ignoring his vicious curse. Pinning his torso with my forearm, I pumped him hard with my other fist and sucked voraciously on the sensitive crown. His thighs quivered, his legs kicking restlessly.
"Damn it, Eva. Fuck." He stiffened and gasped, his hands shoving into my hair, his h*ps bucking. "Oh, f**k. Suck it hard...Ah, Christ..."
He exploded in a powerful rush that almost choked me, coming hard, flooding my mouth. I took it all, my fist milking pulse after pulse up the throbbing length of his cock, swallowing repeatedly until he shuddered with the surfeit of sensation and begged me to stop.
I straightened and Gideon sat up and wrapped himself around me. He took me back down to the floor where he buried his face in my throat and cried until dawn.
I wore a black long-sleeved silk blouse and slacks to work on Tuesday, feeling the need to have a barrier between myself and the world. In the kitchen, Gideon cupped my face in his hands and brushed his mouth across mine with heartrending tenderness. His gaze remained haunted.
"Lunch?" I asked, feeling like we needed to cling to the connection between us.
"I have a business lunch." He ran his fingers through my loose hair. "Would you come? I'll make sure Angus gets you back to work on time."
"I'd love to come along." I thought of the schedule of evening events, meetings, and appointments he'd sent to my smartphone. "And tomorrow night we have a benefit dinner at the Waldorf=Astoria?"
His gaze softened. Dressed for work, he looked somber yet collected. I knew he was anything but.
"You really won't give up on me, will you?" he asked quietly.
I held up my right hand and showed him my ring. "You're stuck with me, Cross. Get used to it."
On the drive to work, he cuddled me in his lap, and again on the ride to lunch at Jean Georges. I didn't speak more than a dozen words during the meal, which Gideon ordered for me and I enjoyed immensely.
I sat quietly at his side, my left hand resting on his hard thigh beneath the tablecloth, a wordless affirmation of my commitment to him. To us. One of his hands rested over mine, warm and strong, as he discussed a new property in development on St. Croix. We kept that connection throughout the entire meal, each of us choosing to eat one-handed rather than separate.
With each hour that passed, I felt the horror of the night before drain away from both of us. It would be another scar to add to his collection, another bitter memory he'd always have, a memory I would share and fear along with him, but it wouldn't rule us. We wouldn't let it.
This time I answered him the way I couldn't before. "Let's forget," I breathed into his mouth. "Make us forget."
"Eva."
He rolled into me, peeling my shirt off with cautious movements. I was similarly tentative in undressing him. We approached each other as if each of us was breakable. The bond between us was fragile just then, both of us apprehensive about the future and the wounds we could inflict with all of our jagged edges.
His lips wrapped around my nipple, his cheeks hollowing slowly, his seduction subdued. The tender suckling felt so good I gasped and arched into his hand. He caressed my side from breast to hip and back again, over and over, gentling me as my heart raced wildly.
He kissed across my chest to the other breast, murmuring words of apology and need in a voice broken by regret and misery. His tongue lapped at the hardened point, worrying it, before surrounding it with wet heat and suction.
"Gideon." The delicate pulls expertly coaxed desire through my skittish mind. My body was already lost in him, greedily seeking the pleasure and beauty of his.
"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered. "Don't pull away."
He kissed my navel, and then moved lower, his hair caressing my stomach as he settled between my legs. He held me open with shaking hands and nuzzled my clit. His light, teasing licks through my cleft and the fluttering dips into my trembling sex took me to the edge of insanity.
My back bowed. Hoarse pleas left my lips. Tension spread through my body, tightening everything until I felt like I might snap under the pressure. And then he pushed me into orgasm with the softest nudge of the tip of his tongue.
I cried out, heated relief pulsing through my writhing body.
"I can't let you go, Eva." Gideon levered over me as I vibrated with pleasure. "I can't."
Brushing away the tear tracks from his face, I stared into his reddened eyes. His torment was painful for me to witness, hurting my heart. "I wouldn't let you if you tried."
He took himself in hand and fed his c**k slowly, carefully into me. My head pressed hard into the floor as he sank deeper, possessing my body one thick inch at a time.
When I'd taken all of him, he began to move in measured, deliberate thrusts. I closed my eyes and focused on the connection between us. Then he settled onto me, his stomach pressed to mine, and my pulse leaped with panic. Abruptly frightened, I hesitated.
"Look at me, Eva." His voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable.
I did, and saw his anguish.
"Make love to me," he begged in a breathless whisper. "Make love with me. Touch me, angel. Put your hands on me."
"Yes." My palms pressed flat to his back; then stroked over the quivering muscles to his ass. Squeezing the hard flexing flesh, I urged him to move faster, plunge deeper.
The rhythmic strokes of his heavy c**k through the clenching depths of my sex pushed ecstasy through me in heated waves. He felt so good. My legs wrapped around his plunging hips, my breath quickening as the cold knot inside me began to melt. Our gazes held.
Tears coursed down my temples. "I love you, Gideon."
"Please..." His eyes squeezed shut.
"I love you."
He lured me to orgasm with the skilled rolling of his hips, stirring his c**k inside me. My sex clenched tightly, trying to hold him, trying to keep him deep in me.
"Come, Eva," he gasped against my throat.
I struggled for it, struggled to get past the lingering apprehension that came from having him on top of me. The anxiety mingled with the desire, keeping me on edge.
He made a hoarse sound filled with pain and regret. "Need you to come, Eva...need to feel you...Please..."
Cupping my bu**ocks, he angled my h*ps and stroked over and over that sensitive spot inside me. He was tireless, relentless, f**king me long and hard until my mind lost control of my body and I came violently. I bit his shoulder to stem my cries as I shook beneath him, the tiny muscles inside me trembling with ecstatic ripples. He groaned deep in his chest, a serrated sound of tormented pleasure.
"More," he ordered, deepening his drives to give me that delectable bite of soreness. That he once again trusted us both enough to introduce that little touch of pain chased away the last of my reservations. As much as we trusted each other, we were learning to trust our instincts, too.
I came again, ferociously, my toes curling until they cramped. I felt the familiar tension grip Gideon and tightened my grasp on his hips, spurring him on, desperate to feel him spurting inside me.
"No!" He wrenched away, falling to his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. Punishing himself by denying his body the comfort and pleasure of mine.
His chest heaved and glistened with sweat. His c**k lay heavily on his belly, brutal-looking with its broad purpled head and thick roping of veins.
I dove for it with hands and mouth, ignoring his vicious curse. Pinning his torso with my forearm, I pumped him hard with my other fist and sucked voraciously on the sensitive crown. His thighs quivered, his legs kicking restlessly.
"Damn it, Eva. Fuck." He stiffened and gasped, his hands shoving into my hair, his h*ps bucking. "Oh, f**k. Suck it hard...Ah, Christ..."
He exploded in a powerful rush that almost choked me, coming hard, flooding my mouth. I took it all, my fist milking pulse after pulse up the throbbing length of his cock, swallowing repeatedly until he shuddered with the surfeit of sensation and begged me to stop.
I straightened and Gideon sat up and wrapped himself around me. He took me back down to the floor where he buried his face in my throat and cried until dawn.
I wore a black long-sleeved silk blouse and slacks to work on Tuesday, feeling the need to have a barrier between myself and the world. In the kitchen, Gideon cupped my face in his hands and brushed his mouth across mine with heartrending tenderness. His gaze remained haunted.
"Lunch?" I asked, feeling like we needed to cling to the connection between us.
"I have a business lunch." He ran his fingers through my loose hair. "Would you come? I'll make sure Angus gets you back to work on time."
"I'd love to come along." I thought of the schedule of evening events, meetings, and appointments he'd sent to my smartphone. "And tomorrow night we have a benefit dinner at the Waldorf=Astoria?"
His gaze softened. Dressed for work, he looked somber yet collected. I knew he was anything but.
"You really won't give up on me, will you?" he asked quietly.
I held up my right hand and showed him my ring. "You're stuck with me, Cross. Get used to it."
On the drive to work, he cuddled me in his lap, and again on the ride to lunch at Jean Georges. I didn't speak more than a dozen words during the meal, which Gideon ordered for me and I enjoyed immensely.
I sat quietly at his side, my left hand resting on his hard thigh beneath the tablecloth, a wordless affirmation of my commitment to him. To us. One of his hands rested over mine, warm and strong, as he discussed a new property in development on St. Croix. We kept that connection throughout the entire meal, each of us choosing to eat one-handed rather than separate.
With each hour that passed, I felt the horror of the night before drain away from both of us. It would be another scar to add to his collection, another bitter memory he'd always have, a memory I would share and fear along with him, but it wouldn't rule us. We wouldn't let it.
