Fearless In Love
Page 46
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“This is why I suggested we skip dessert at the restaurant.” He dragged the smooth, chocolatey flesh of another strawberry through all the creaminess on her body and fed it to her. “I wanted to eat it off you instead.”
Everything was erogenous when he was doing this to her. She moaned and arched her body to meet his mouth. Without sight, she was reduced to sensation. A slave to his lips, his tongue, his hands, her body an instrument he was expert at playing. Until he picked up the can again and she almost bucked off the bed as the cold cream covered her sex.
The sweet treat melted beneath his tongue, and so did she, crying out. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it was almost painful. So good it was exactly the right kind of bad. So close and yet so far.
Because she needed more. She was about to beg, but he knew what she needed even before she opened her mouth. He entered her with two fingers, and she went mindless, out of control. She rode the edge of climax as if it were a tsunami on the horizon, ready to roll in, consume her, and drag her under until she was drowning in pleasure.
Then Matt put his hand under her hips, lifted her against his mouth, and the tsunami crashed over her, a huge wave of bliss—and of wonderful, amazing Matt—tumbling through her.
* * *
Ari was still tied down, her moans and cries of pleasure a symphony in his ears. Beyond control, beyond mere need and desire, Matt reared up, grabbed her hips, and slammed home deep inside her. He’d put protection on when he retrieved the whipped cream, knowing he’d need to be ready, anticipating the total collapse of his willpower.
She was covered in streaks of cream and chocolate, her skin deliciously sticky as they slipped and slid together, her body clenching him hard, amplifying the heat between them to dangerous levels.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She tasted sweet and was so damned hot as she came again like rockets going off, the explosion far greater than the excitement of having scarves around her wrists and a blindfold covering her eyes. More vast than the taste of her on his lips and tongue, even as delectable as she was.
It was how she felt around him—like he was meant to be here with her.
Only her. Only him.
He lost himself in the connection, loving how she kept pace with him, crying out as she rolled from one peak to another without stopping, both of them wild. Crazy with need. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
Long after they both finally drifted down, she was still blindfolded and tied, their bodies fused, his sprawled across hers. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I believe you said that last time.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, her lips, her neck. She tasted like whipped cream, chocolate strawberries, and all woman.
“But after what just happened in this bed,” she said, a smile in her voice, “it needs to be repeated.”
How could he have thought of her as too young, too innocent? She was so unabashed, unashamed. No restrictions, no mind games, just honesty.
“I love that you let me tie you up.”
“You’d never hurt me,” she said so simply that his heart turned in his chest, beating hard against his rib cage. “I trust you.”
He was floored all over again that she believed in him not only to find her brother, but to treat her right. Beneath the weight of her trust, he crumbled. Slipping off her mask, he said, “But you don’t know me very well.”
She tipped her head up and looked him in the eye, her gaze fierce. “Yes, I do. You’re a great father. A great friend. A great son.” She smiled a soft, sensual smile. “And a wicked lover.”
She might not understand just how deep his scars ran from his childhood, but she was right that he’d already let her in more deeply than he’d ever intended. How could he not when she was so kind, so sweet, so caring, so loyal? Her trust was monumental, and he wanted to earn every ounce of it. He just wasn’t sure he could in the long run—not when behind his mask of success and wealth, his darkness still lingered. The fact that he could even be this close to her now was such a gift. One he would appreciate forever, no matter what happened between them in the future. And since tonight was about taking her beyond her pain, he ruthlessly shoved away his fears as he slipped the scarves from her wrists and ankles.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down her body. “I’m a mess.”
He licked her breast, her abdomen, her thigh, then headed down to the ties at her ankles. “You’re gorgeous.” She blushed, as she always did at his compliments, her skin heating against his, her cheeks turning pink. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you how perfect you are?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bathroom for a shower. “My friends think I’m great.”
“I mean men, boyfriends, admirers.” In the bathroom, he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor and their bodies were flush.
She was quiet for a long moment before she finally said, “It was always better to downplay myself. So I wouldn’t be noticed.”
Knowing she had to be talking about some of the foster fathers she’d lived with—and the ways they must have tried to hurt her—he barely bit back a curse.
“You don’t have to worry about anything now, Ari.” He kissed her with everything in him, deeply, sweetly. For now he refused to think about tomorrow or the next day. Too soon, they’d have to return to life as it had been before this trip, when she would become his son’s nanny again and he would worry about the consequences of touching her, of wanting her, of hurting her.
But as long as they were on the road together, away from real life, she was his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt hit the End Call button on the steering wheel the following morning. “Mrs. Esterhausen still isn’t answering.”
“Maybe we should postpone,” Ari suggested.
“We’re almost there. If she’s not home, we’ll have lunch and try again. If she is, we’ll be polite and go away if she doesn’t want to talk.” Determination was clear on his face. “You need to know if she’s seen Gideon.”
Feeling as though he knew her inside and out, she said, “You’re right, I do need to know.” They’d brought joy to Mrs. Sanchez. She’d welcomed the chance to go through her daughter’s things, to remember her all over again. Ari prayed they could do the same for Mrs. Esterhausen.
Everything was erogenous when he was doing this to her. She moaned and arched her body to meet his mouth. Without sight, she was reduced to sensation. A slave to his lips, his tongue, his hands, her body an instrument he was expert at playing. Until he picked up the can again and she almost bucked off the bed as the cold cream covered her sex.
The sweet treat melted beneath his tongue, and so did she, crying out. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it was almost painful. So good it was exactly the right kind of bad. So close and yet so far.
Because she needed more. She was about to beg, but he knew what she needed even before she opened her mouth. He entered her with two fingers, and she went mindless, out of control. She rode the edge of climax as if it were a tsunami on the horizon, ready to roll in, consume her, and drag her under until she was drowning in pleasure.
Then Matt put his hand under her hips, lifted her against his mouth, and the tsunami crashed over her, a huge wave of bliss—and of wonderful, amazing Matt—tumbling through her.
* * *
Ari was still tied down, her moans and cries of pleasure a symphony in his ears. Beyond control, beyond mere need and desire, Matt reared up, grabbed her hips, and slammed home deep inside her. He’d put protection on when he retrieved the whipped cream, knowing he’d need to be ready, anticipating the total collapse of his willpower.
She was covered in streaks of cream and chocolate, her skin deliciously sticky as they slipped and slid together, her body clenching him hard, amplifying the heat between them to dangerous levels.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She tasted sweet and was so damned hot as she came again like rockets going off, the explosion far greater than the excitement of having scarves around her wrists and a blindfold covering her eyes. More vast than the taste of her on his lips and tongue, even as delectable as she was.
It was how she felt around him—like he was meant to be here with her.
Only her. Only him.
He lost himself in the connection, loving how she kept pace with him, crying out as she rolled from one peak to another without stopping, both of them wild. Crazy with need. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
Long after they both finally drifted down, she was still blindfolded and tied, their bodies fused, his sprawled across hers. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I believe you said that last time.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, her lips, her neck. She tasted like whipped cream, chocolate strawberries, and all woman.
“But after what just happened in this bed,” she said, a smile in her voice, “it needs to be repeated.”
How could he have thought of her as too young, too innocent? She was so unabashed, unashamed. No restrictions, no mind games, just honesty.
“I love that you let me tie you up.”
“You’d never hurt me,” she said so simply that his heart turned in his chest, beating hard against his rib cage. “I trust you.”
He was floored all over again that she believed in him not only to find her brother, but to treat her right. Beneath the weight of her trust, he crumbled. Slipping off her mask, he said, “But you don’t know me very well.”
She tipped her head up and looked him in the eye, her gaze fierce. “Yes, I do. You’re a great father. A great friend. A great son.” She smiled a soft, sensual smile. “And a wicked lover.”
She might not understand just how deep his scars ran from his childhood, but she was right that he’d already let her in more deeply than he’d ever intended. How could he not when she was so kind, so sweet, so caring, so loyal? Her trust was monumental, and he wanted to earn every ounce of it. He just wasn’t sure he could in the long run—not when behind his mask of success and wealth, his darkness still lingered. The fact that he could even be this close to her now was such a gift. One he would appreciate forever, no matter what happened between them in the future. And since tonight was about taking her beyond her pain, he ruthlessly shoved away his fears as he slipped the scarves from her wrists and ankles.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down her body. “I’m a mess.”
He licked her breast, her abdomen, her thigh, then headed down to the ties at her ankles. “You’re gorgeous.” She blushed, as she always did at his compliments, her skin heating against his, her cheeks turning pink. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you how perfect you are?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bathroom for a shower. “My friends think I’m great.”
“I mean men, boyfriends, admirers.” In the bathroom, he let her slide down until her feet touched the floor and their bodies were flush.
She was quiet for a long moment before she finally said, “It was always better to downplay myself. So I wouldn’t be noticed.”
Knowing she had to be talking about some of the foster fathers she’d lived with—and the ways they must have tried to hurt her—he barely bit back a curse.
“You don’t have to worry about anything now, Ari.” He kissed her with everything in him, deeply, sweetly. For now he refused to think about tomorrow or the next day. Too soon, they’d have to return to life as it had been before this trip, when she would become his son’s nanny again and he would worry about the consequences of touching her, of wanting her, of hurting her.
But as long as they were on the road together, away from real life, she was his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt hit the End Call button on the steering wheel the following morning. “Mrs. Esterhausen still isn’t answering.”
“Maybe we should postpone,” Ari suggested.
“We’re almost there. If she’s not home, we’ll have lunch and try again. If she is, we’ll be polite and go away if she doesn’t want to talk.” Determination was clear on his face. “You need to know if she’s seen Gideon.”
Feeling as though he knew her inside and out, she said, “You’re right, I do need to know.” They’d brought joy to Mrs. Sanchez. She’d welcomed the chance to go through her daughter’s things, to remember her all over again. Ari prayed they could do the same for Mrs. Esterhausen.
