Full Contact
Page 84

“You want to come inside?”
Tag is gone when we reach my apartment. Ray walks in and pulls up short when he sees the bare walls. “Where’s your artwork?”
“I put it all away.”
His jaw tightens. “Because of me.”
“No, because I thought opening the door to the past wasn’t the right thing for me.”
Ray strokes my cheek. “How can you move forward if you don’t deal with the past?”
“I don’t need to move forward. I’m happy where I am.”
“Where are you, beautiful girl?” he whispers. “Not here with me.”
Not anymore. And yet somehow my arms have found their way around him and I’m holding him tight. Ray draws in a shuddering breath and strokes my hair. He’s silent. But I can feel the emotion rippling through his body. I squeeze him hard, breathing in his familiar scent, committing everything to memory: the feel of his body hard and unyielding against mine, the steady thud of his heart in his chest, the rasp of this breath, and the certainty I trust him as I trust myself.
And then I let him go.
Ray exhales a gasp, as if I’ve punched him. But before he can speak, I hold out my hand. “Come.”
He follows me to the bedroom and I turn to face him. Myriad emotions play across his face but settle on confusion when I clasp his hands and put them on my hips.
“Undress me.”
Ray’s gaze burns into me, but when I raise my arms, he lifts my tank top over my head, his broad, warm palms sweeping up my body in a caress that takes my breath away. Swallowing hard, I drop my arms. “Keep going.”
He reaches around me and flicks the catch on my bra with strong, steady hands, sliding it down over my arms and tossing it on the bed with my tank top. When I nod, he unfastens my skirt and then kneels, reverent, as he slides it down over my hips.
For the first time since Luke, I feel no fear.
I touch him then, my hand on his head, steadying myself as I step out of my skirt. Ray lifts my right foot after the skirt is gone and brushes a kiss, whisper soft, over each of my toes.
Biting my lip to hold back my smile, I push his head back enough for him to meet my gaze. “Panties.”
Still kneeling, he slides his index fingers beneath the elastic waistband and eases them gently over my hips. But with each tug, he kisses me. First my stomach. Then my mound. A feathered kiss over my clit. And then the tiniest lick along my folds. By the time he has my panties off, I’m wet, and from the gleam in his eyes, he knows it.
He kneels and looks up at me, curious, expectant, wanting. But beneath his calm demeanor, I can sense the predator in him pacing, need rippling beneath his skin. I know this predator. And I know I can hold him back just a little bit longer.
“Everything.” I touch the piercing in my nipple, giving it a final good-bye tweak, and Ray sucks in a sharp breath. But he doesn’t speak. He understands this game that isn’t a game. He gave me a gift, and in return I am giving him everything.
He stands and cradles my breast in his palm, caressing my tender flesh with the pad of his thumb. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of his cologne and leather, the essence of him. Ever so gently, he peppers kisses across the crescent of my breast, and then he draws my nipple into his mouth. Warm and wet, his lips tease, every suck making my sex throb. When my nipple is a taut, hard peak, he carefully unfastens the little silver ring and slides it out.
“Oh.” Whether my gasp is from pain or pleasure or a lightness I’ve never felt before, I don’t know, but the sudden rush of heat between my thighs makes me stagger. Ray is there to catch me. His hands grip my hips and he holds me firm. Then he walks me a step back and seats me at the edge of the bed. The intensity of his gaze melts me inside. In this moment, he is utterly and completely mine.
And I am his.
Lying back on the cool silk comforter, I raise my arms and cross my wrists over my head. “Hands.”
Ray is quick to comply. He ties my wrists with a scarf from my dresser. Then he returns to the foot of the bed and drops to his knees between my thighs.
There is no rush of blood in my ears, no prickles on my skin. I feel nothing but the slow, steady beat of my heart and a warmth that suffuses my soul. “One more,” I whisper, bending my head to watch him. Ray looks up and smiles.
He licks his lips before he starts, and then he trails kisses down my stomach and over my mound. His lips are soft, like butterfly wings, but his body is tense, muscles bunching beneath his shirt, and if I imagine hard enough, I can see the Predator’s tail flick. I have pushed my predator far. Soon I will set him free.
Skirting over my piercing, he glides his tongue along my slit, then flicks inside. My body tightens and my breath comes in pants. But he doesn’t stop. Over and over again, he teases me, his tongue circling my clit and then sliding through my folds until my wetness trickles from me, and I am moaning his name. Only then does he attend to my throbbing clit, licking and sucking until I am writhing on the soft covers. His fingers find the piercing and he gently works it free, then he nips my clit ever so lightly and I climax, screaming his name as he draws away the little barbell.
I am free.
Ray strips off his clothes as I sink into the bed, and then he lies down beside me and brushes his lips over mine. His kiss comes from the heart, deep and steady, grounding me from the maelstrom of emotion swirling through my body.
“I’m yours,” I whisper. “Keep me safe.”
“I love you, Sia. You will always be safe with me. I promise.”