Читать книгу Desire Collection: November Books 1 - 4 - Charlene Sands - Страница 22

Twelve

“You’re not?” Anxiety began to twist in her stomach again. Please, please don’t let this be a mistake in the making.

But Eric cupped her cheeks in his palms, lifting her face to his. “I may never be ready for you, babe. You’re always going to take my breath away, aren’t you?”

And before she could reply to that sincere compliment—damn him and his sincere compliments—he lowered his mouth to hers again.

She lost herself in the give-and-take of their kiss. Somehow, they were moving, although she wasn’t aware of taking any steps. Eric kicked out of his shoes and then she was pushing his shirt off his shoulders. He lost his pants in the doorway to the bedroom and she pulled his undershirt off next to the bed. Now it was her turn to step back and admire him. It made her smile to see that he had on black boxer briefs. Black was de rigueur for the evening, apparently.

Hopping on one foot and then the other, he peeled off his socks. There was something familiar and comforting about it and yes, silly. She’d watched him peel off his socks and shoes countless times when they used to throw themselves into the pool as kids.

It was ridiculous that something as simple as taking off his socks could make her relax, but it did. This was okay. Better than okay. He was still Eric and somewhere, deep inside, she was still Sofia. No matter how much it changed, that would always be the same.

She started to take her strappy heeled sandals off, but Eric said, “No, wait.” Before she could figure out what he meant, he fell to his knees and set his hands against the buckle of the sandal.

This was the second time today he had been on his knees before her, undressing her slowly. And she knew in all truthfulness that she might not ever be ready for him, either. It didn’t make sense, why he was putting so much effort into this. He could’ve had his pick of any woman in the world. Why was he here with her?

He got her sandals off and then sat back on his heels, staring up at her. “You doing okay?” Before she could answer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her thigh.

She laced her fingers in his hair to balance herself. “I think so,” she answered honestly before she realized he might take it the wrong way.

He paused. “We can stop.”

She stared down at him. Even from this angle, she could see his erection straining against the waistband of his briefs. She’d felt it grinding against her earlier, his body hot and heavy for her.

“I don’t want to stop,” she told him, raking her fingers through his hair. “I want to feel good, Eric. I want to be selfish.” And, although she didn’t say it, she knew he understood—she didn’t want to regret this.

More than that, she didn’t want this to be somber and quiet. She was so tired of being serious, of feeling like the fate of the world rested on every single decision she made.

“And I want to have fun,” she said, unable to stop her voice from wavering. “I need to have fun. With you. Please.”

“I would do anything for you, Sofia,” he said and dammit all, his voice was serious. “Anything, that is, except eat one of those fire-hot Takis again.”

She surprised herself by laughing and he grinned. “Those things took a year off of my life,” he went on, somehow sounding serious and yet completely ridiculous at the same time. “And the fact that you could eat them without crying? I wonder about you sometimes.”

He pulled her underwear, working them down slowly over her hips. It might’ve made her self-conscious, but for every inch he crossed, he leaned up and pressed a kiss. And even as he did that slow and sensual seduction, he kept cracking jokes.

Had she seen when the lieutenant governor’s tie accidentally dipped into his soup? Had she heard the dirty jokes Steve had been telling to the owners of a local construction company? Had she caught it when Eric tripped over the threshold of the restaurant and nearly took out the hostess?

Of course she had. She hadn’t missed any of it. But she’d been afraid to laugh then, afraid to draw attention to herself.

But now? Her chest loosened as she was able to giggle at him, at the whole evening. People treated Eric like he was royalty, deigning to grace them with his presence, when he was just Eric. A man who occasionally threw boulders into a swimming pool and liked junk food and looked out for an old friend. He wasn’t some high-and-mighty soulless billionaire.

Oh, God, she was completely in love with him, wasn’t she?

No, this wasn’t about love. This was about satisfaction and friendship and...and...sex. That’s all. Nothing more. There couldn’t be anything more.

“There,” he said, coming to his feet and wrapping his arms around her, working the clasp of her bra. “There’s that smile I wanted to see.”

Then the bra gave and she was completely nude before him for the first time. Unlike this afternoon, she successfully fought the urge to cover herself with her hands. Instead of focusing on herself, she turned her attention to him. “Your turn.”

“You know what I regret?” he asked as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and began to pull down.

“No?” She really didn’t want to bring regrets into this.

He slid a finger under her chin so that even as she pushed his briefs down, she had no choice but to look in his eyes. “I regret that I missed the moment you transformed from a kid I used to know into the woman I want.”

She pushed the waistband over his lean hips and the shorts fell away. “You didn’t miss it,” she told him, her hands finding his erection. She didn’t need to see it to know that he was impressive and powerful. She could feel it for herself. He sucked in air as she encircled his girth with her hands.

“I didn’t?”

Somehow, it did her good to hear him on the edge like this, his voice unsteady, his eyes dark with desire.

“It was the moment I walked into your building. It never would’ve happened before that exact moment in time.” She worked her hands up and down his erection, feeling him come alive under her touch.

“I’m so glad I didn’t miss it,” he said and then his mouth was on her, his hands pulling her hair loose from the updo she’d managed all by herself.

“Me, too,” she said and then they were falling into bed together, his body covering hers. She touched him everywhere. He was so hot and smooth and hard against her, flexing his hips and dragging his erection over her very center. He was driving her wild and God, it felt so good.

This wasn’t a dream, not like this afternoon. But the rest of the world fell away, anyway. She didn’t think of funerals or hospital bills or babies or jobs. As Eric skimmed his teeth over the base of her neck, all she could think about was how he wanted to devour her. When he teased her nipples to tight, hard points, all she could think about was that she wanted to share them with him. And when he stroked his fingers between her legs, finding the center of her pleasure and working it until her hips bucked against his and she cried out with need, all she could think was that she’d found herself. She’d found herself again with him.

“One moment,” he said, peeling himself off her. She shivered as the cold air touched her heated skin.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He went back to the doorway, where his pants were still crumpled on the floor. He pulled a condom out of his pocket and then prowled back toward her.

She got her first good look at Eric’s body. Oh, he had grown up well. She had felt all of those muscles and skin against her, cupped him with her hands—but seeing was believing and she wasn’t sure she believed that he was all hers.

“Did I ever tell you I like your tan lines?” she asked as he kneeled back on the bed and climbed between her legs.

“No, you didn’t.” He rolled the condom on and then came against her.

“You should wear sunscreen,” she told him, running her hands up and down his biceps. “But you’re a redhead with a tan, Eric. Someone rare and special. There’s no one else like you in the world and I can’t believe I have you all to myself right now.”

She could feel him at the entrance of her body. She desperately wanted to flex her hips up and take him inside of her. But he was staring down at her with such tenderness that it was almost alarming.

“Sofia...” he said, and something in his tone made her breath catch in her throat.

Then he began to thrust into her and she knew that no matter how much he made her laugh or how good he made her feel, this was about so much more than just a little bit of fun.

He went slow, filling her inch by inch. Her body spasmed around his. Oh, it had been so long. And he felt so good that she wanted to cry with the relief.

He was breathing hard, his face buried against her neck and she thought he was shaking. For a long moment, they lay like that, joined but quiet in the intimacy of it all.

He said her name again softly. “Sofia.”

“Yes,” she whispered. It didn’t really matter what the question was, after all. He was here with her and they were together and the answer was yes. Maybe it always would be.

He flexed his hips and she rose to meet him and together, they found a rhythm. Sofia wondered dimly if she should be doing more, trying harder. But there was something so freeing about laying back and letting him take care of everything. She didn’t have to give and give and give, dammit, until there was nothing left for her. She could be selfish and greedy and take everything he had because right now, he was all hers.

“Tell me what you need, babe,” Eric grunted, his breathing harsh. “Let me give it to you.”

She needed so much—more than a night or even a weekend. She needed to make up for all the time she’d lost just getting by. She was tired of survival. She wanted to live.

She was finally going to. “Let’s... Here. Lean back.”

Eric did as she asked, sitting on his heels without pulling free of her body. “You feel so good,” she told him, shifting her legs so that they were tucked up against him instead of locked behind his back.

Eric didn’t immediately fall into a rhythm again. Instead, he sat back and looked at how she had arranged herself. “How about this?” Then, instead of tucking her knee under his arm—a position that worked well for her before—he instead tucked his arm behind her knee, lifting her leg over his shoulder. But just the one.

She felt her body tighten around him with this new angle and sucked in a quick breath. “Yeah,” she said, adjusting to the different sensations. He felt larger, harder—and she felt closer to someone else than she’d been in so long. “Yeah, let’s try that.”

This time, his pace wasn’t slow or measured. He wasn’t taking his time, not anymore. This time, he buried himself inside of her over and over again and it couldn’t have been more than a minute before her body tightened and the orgasm blazed through her. She cried out, “Eric!” And then she lost the ability to speak at all.

He didn’t give her the chance to catch her breath. He didn’t give her the time to come back down to earth from that beautiful orgasm. Instead, he drove her relentlessly, pushing her from that high peak to one even higher. This time, when she came, she thrashed against the bed, grabbed onto his shoulders and held tight. The cords of his neck stood out as he roared and then collapsed on her.

They were breathing heavily. She could still feel him inside of her, although he was already retreating. She shifted, trying to hold on to him even though she knew he couldn’t stay.

She didn’t want to let him go. Not now. Maybe not ever.

But she did, of course. She had to. There were practical considerations and cold hard facts that could not be ignored. So when Eric rolled off her, withdrawing completely, she had no choice but to let him go.

Not that he went far. He pulled her into his arms, shaping himself around her and whispering “My beautiful, beautiful Sofia” into her hair, and that was it.

She loved him.

What a shame she could never have him.