I couldn’t imagine why she’d want that after the way I’d treated her, but hell, I wasn’t going to argue. I didn’t understand why she’d think it wouldn’t be good for me, either. Then again, if she’d never done this before, then maybe it wasn’t such a surprise. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d had lots of people in her life telling her she was doing a good job.
‘Relax,’ I said softly. ‘Basically you can’t do this wrong, okay? Anything you do is going to be good for me.’
Something in her gaze shifted, the anxiety bleeding away. ‘Okay.’
‘Good. Now get to it. I’m having bad thoughts about that mouth of yours, but I want you to have a chance to play first.’
She flushed, then dropped her gaze to my dick. Then she began to explore.
I usually didn’t allow a woman to touch me this way. Sometimes I got them to suck me off, but it was only that—a blow job, nothing fancy. I didn’t let them run soft fingers up my shaft and then over the sensitive head. I didn’t allow them to stroke me, to tease me, to close their hand around me and squeeze.
Her touch was gentle and light, and it was maddening. I watched her face as she did so, her eyes wide. Every so often she’d glance up at me, and I let her see what she was doing to me. She blushed every time, that flush going down her neck and across her chest, yet she didn’t look away. She kept staring at me the way she used to. As if I was someone she liked very much and liked being with. Someone who gave her joy. She obviously got a lot of pleasure out of what she was doing to me, and she didn’t hide it.
I got off on that as much as the feel of her fingers on my skin. In fact, it was surprising how much her pleasure got me off too, and how my pleasure fed into hers. A connection of sorts that I didn’t get with a woman in a blindfold. That I hadn’t got with the women from my football days, either, if I was honest.
Because for her to find pleasure in getting me off, it had to matter. She had to matter. And Vesta did. She always had.
I murmured things to her, softly at first, and then my voice got deeper, rougher, as she drove me insane with those light, exploratory touches. Pleasure curved like lightning down my spine as she leaned in and began to use her mouth, her tongue hesitant at first, then gaining in confidence as she touched it to the head of my cock.
‘Yes,’ I growled emphatically. ‘Fuck yes.’
Obviously taking on board the encouragement, she gripped me tighter as she began to explore down my shaft, licking and squeezing, making me grit my teeth as the pleasure sunk deeper. My hands were in fists and I wanted to let her explore a bit more, get comfortable with me, but she tested my control.
I reached for her, sliding my fingers into her short, silky hair, gripping tight. She made a little sound, but it wasn’t one of protest, more of relief. As if she wanted me to take control. Good, because I did.
‘Open up,’ I ordered and she did. And then I was guiding my cock into her mouth and she was closing her lips around me.
Hot and wet. Slick. Fucking heaven.
She relaxed against me, one hand gripping the base of my dick, her hair brushing my abdomen. I couldn’t feel it, but I could see it, just as I could see her pretty mouth around my cock. So fucking erotic.
‘Look at me,’ I commanded.
Her lashes lifted, her gaze meeting mine, wide and dark, glazed with desire. Pretty Vee, all flushed and hot, with her mouth full of my cock.
I guided her head on me, showed her what I wanted her to do, and she did it, sucking me deep. The pressure was fucking amazing. The pleasure was indescribable. I thrust deeper into her mouth, going faster, and she moaned, her grip on me tightening. Then she put her other hand on my thigh, gripping me there to keep her balance.
It was a beautiful sight to watch her suck me, to watch my cock move in and out of her mouth, to see her beautiful naked body, her round breasts bouncing with every thrust of my hips.
Vee on her knees, worshipping me...
It was getting too much but I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t.
‘I’m going to come in your mouth,’ I said, and it wasn’t a request.
She only gripped me tighter, so I let myself go, thrusting into her mouth until the pleasure pulled tight then crested, a current electrifying me. I groaned, my fingers twisted in her hair as the climax hit, and I felt her lips tighten around my cock, her throat moving as she swallowed me down.
So fucking hot.
I couldn’t move after that, my eyes closed as my heartbeat slowly normalised, short, sharp electric shocks still moving through me. Her hands slid down my thighs and then around me, and I could feel the warmth of her body against my legs. I had some sensation on my lower abdomen, and could feel the silkiness of her hair and the soft brush of her lips as she kissed me. She leaned against me, holding me as if it was me holding her upright and not the other way round.
The simple affection implicit in her hold made my chest tighten. It had been a long time since I’d had any physical comfort, because I didn’t allow it. And I’d told myself that I didn’t need it, that I was fine with my weekly Friday night sessions with the women I hired.
But Vee’s arms around me, holding me, the warmth of her against me... It seemed I was wrong. Maybe I did need it after all.
The thought was uncomfortable for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate so I moved, gently untangling my fingers from her hair and pulling away from her.
She looked up at me, a crease between her brows. ‘Was that okay?’
I held her gaze. ‘It was more than okay. You wanted to blow my goddamned mind? Well, you blew that as thoroughly as my cock.’
Pink tinged her cheeks and she gave me the most self-satisfied smile. ‘Well, excellent.’
I reached down and picked her up, loving how she instantly put her arms around my neck, as if we’d been doing this together for years and not just one night.
‘So, what now?’ she asked, looking up at me.
‘Now?’ I flashed her the ghost of my old smile. ‘Now it’s your turn.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vesta
HE CARRIED ME into the bedroom of the suite and set me down on the bed before going out to the lounge and coming back seconds later with a fistful of silver packets. More condoms.
I watched him stride to the bed, still powerful and sleek despite the scars. And if there was a slight stiffness to his movements then it was only that, slight. He didn’t quite move with the grace of old, but he wasn’t far off.
The intentness in his gaze was back as he put the packets on the nightstand and then joined me on the bed. Gold glittered in his eyes and his cock was hard again.
I could still taste him in my mouth, salty and musky, and the ache between my legs was acute. It had been quite the experience, sucking him off, to kneel at his feet with him looking down at me, tall, powerful and so very beautiful.
And he was beautiful. He wasn’t the golden man he’d been years ago, but then I wasn’t the kid I’d once been, either. He’d been a golden man, and his attention had rocked that kid’s world, but then he’d left the kid behind. And I’d stopped being a kid. I’d stopped looking to other people for my validation and I’d gone and found it myself.
I didn’t need a golden man any more. I needed someone else.
Do you really need him, though? That’s the question.
I’d never questioned my adolescent crush. Never questioned the love that had grown out of it, either. Never asked myself why I kept holding on to a man who’d spent the last nearly ten years ignoring me. I wasn’t lonely. I had friends. But...they didn’t know about me and my struggles. They didn’t know about my family. They only saw tattoos and piercings and a spiky and prickly woman. A woman who didn’t care what others thought of her. Then again, that was only what I let them see...
Eli got onto the mattress and with an easy movement flipped me over onto m
y stomach. I lay there face-down on the sheets, my heartbeat thumping, not knowing what to expect, but clearly there was more and, God, I so wanted more.
His hand settled on the back of my neck, warm and heavy, a reassurance.
I relaxed, every muscle going lax as he ran his hand down my spine in a long, slow, stroking motion. I sighed. ‘That feels so good.’
He made a soft, rasping sound, his hand moving down over my butt and squeezing gently. ‘I know I don’t have a right to ask this, but...what have you been doing for the past few years?’
My heart gave a leap, stupid thing that it was. I was pleased that he’d wanted to know about me—even though a little voice in the back of my head kept telling me that, if he’d truly wanted to know, he would have read those emails I’d sent him, or called me at least. And that I should be angry with him for how he’d dismissed me. That I should demand answers for his behaviour, even though the answers might hurt.
But I didn’t want to destroy the mood, so I decided to ignore the little voice.
‘Dad wanted me to go to college but, as you can imagine, I decided not to,’ I said. ‘I went to a community art college instead.’
‘Good plan.’ His hand began another long stroke. ‘You were always fantastic with that kind of stuff. What happened after that?’
I noted that he didn’t ask what Dad thought of it. But he probably didn’t need to ask. Dad had given up on me by then. He’d barely even looked up from his newspaper when I told him that was what I wanted to do.
‘I got into tattoo design.’ I arched under his hand, loving the warmth of it. ‘And I opened my own tattoo parlour. I’m hoping to open a second one in LA, probably in the next six months if I can get the capital together.’
‘That sounds amazing.’ There was a pause and then he said, ‘Did you do these?’ His fingers touched my hip where a petal curled around it.
I didn’t hide my shiver. ‘Yeah. I designed it.’
‘It’s beautiful, Vee. Really beautiful.’ He traced the outline of the petal with his finger. ‘If you need finance, though, you don’t need to do shit like this. You know that, right? Traj can help out or I can—’
‘No,’ I interrupted, a whisper of annoyance interrupting the warmth and pleasure I was getting from his touch. ‘I want to do this myself. I don’t want to be beholden to my damn family.’
Eli’s hand on me paused. ‘Yeah, I can understand that.’ It resumed stroking me. ‘Things didn’t get any better?’
I knew what he was talking about. My family and what happened after he’d vanished from my life.
He abandoned you, that’s what happened.
My throat closed. ‘They were fine,’ I forced out. ‘Same old same old.’
Again his hand paused, big and warm in the small of my back. His thumb caressed me in a slow back-and-forth. ‘What did they do?’
I shut my eyes, my face pressed into the pillow. ‘They didn’t do anything. They’d have to care in order to do something and they didn’t care. Dad basically ignored me and so did Mom. They came to my college graduation, I’ll give them that, but that was it. I left as soon as I could.’
Eli said nothing, that thumb still stroking me, and there was a long silence.
‘When I was about fourteen, I twisted my knee during a game,’ he said at last. ‘Dad kept pushing me to keep playing. He said I couldn’t afford to take time out, and that if I wanted to have a career I needed to suck it up and get on with it. That was the mantra he kept feeding me, the same thing every time I mentioned having a break or taking some time off—that everything was riding on me. That he and Mom had worked so hard for me and now it was my turn to work for them, get them their chance of a better life, be their ticket out of the project. So I ignored the injury, ignored the pressure, sucked it up and kept playing. But it never really came right.
‘That last year at college it flared up again, but I kept on ignoring it because I had to impress the scouts. And then that last game...it gave out and I was benched for the season.’ His voice got very rough. ‘Dad was...so fucking angry with me. After all those arguments about me taking some time off, he’d thought I’d done it on purpose. I’d killed their dreams, he told me. I’d ruined their chance for something better. They’d worked so hard and I’d screwed up and so it was all for nothing. It was my fault.’
I said nothing, listening to him.
‘I was angry too, feeling guilty as shit for fucking up their chances, so I went to their place to apologise. But then Dad started ranting, so I went to a bar to get drunk instead. Then I realised I’d left my wallet back at his and Mom’s house, and when I went back to get it I found the house was alight. Dad had fallen asleep drunk on the couch and his cigarette had ignited a newspaper beside it.’
My throat closed up. I knew what was coming next.
‘I found Mom in the bedroom and managed to pull her out. And then I went back in to get Dad. The house was shitty, and it burned so fast, and while I was trying to get Dad out part of the ceiling collapsed on top of me. I don’t have any memory of what happened after that, but somehow I managed to get us both out. The docs said it was a miracle I survived, but that I had youth and fitness on my side.’
There was a pause, his hand on my skin so warm. ‘There were so many surgeries. So many skin grafts. I had a couple of infections. I was in hospital a long time. Mom visited me, but Dad didn’t. He wouldn’t come. The house wasn’t insured and they lost everything.’
‘Oh.’ The word was more breath than sound, an exhalation of shock and grief and sympathy. He’d never talked about his parents much, and I only knew that his mom cleaned our house and was quiet, and his dad coached him a lot with his games. I thought there may have been some pressure from them, but I’d had no idea of the extent of it.
‘Your dad paid the hospital bills for me otherwise I’d have been screwed, because it was obvious I’d never play again.’
I swallowed, trying to think of what to say, because words didn’t seem enough to cover the extent of his loss. I could only think of questions.
‘Why didn’t you tell anyone about it?’ I asked eventually.
‘You mean, why didn’t I tell you?’
‘Me. Anyone. Everyone thought you’d gone off—’
‘I know what everyone thought. And I didn’t say because I didn’t want anyone to know. The medical staff all thought I was a fucking hero, that I saved my dad’s life, but they didn’t know I was the reason he’d nearly died in the first place. Besides, no one wants that kind of end to a great story. Local boy almost makes good, only to fail in the end and nearly die in hospital.’
‘But—’
‘I failed them, Vee. And I know I failed them, because Dad didn’t even come to visit me. Even though I’m successful in business—even though I got him and Mom out of their shitty neighbourhood, bought them a house and a car, made sure they were comfortable—he still won’t talk to me about it. Doesn’t matter that I nearly died saving both of them. As far as he’s concerned, I got myself benched on purpose. I ruined their lives because I didn’t want to play any more.’ He paused. ‘He said he thinks I’m selfish. And he’s right. That’s exactly what I am.’
My heart squeezed so tight. I wanted to turn over, see his face, touch him and tell him that I’d never see him as selfish. That he’d been nothing but generous to me, giving me his time and attention, his patience and reassurance, even when he hadn’t had to.
But his hand pressed down on me, keeping me where I was and pinning me to the bed.
‘So I decided to embrace it. I decided that I was done with living my life for other people. I had to live it for me.’ His voice had dropped even deeper, a subsonic rumble I felt in my chest. ‘So I put that life behind me. Everyone. Everything. The only person I kept was Traj, because he was facing the same sort of physical shit that I was. And we decided together that we wouldn’
t let our limitations stop us. That we’d have everything we were supposed to have before it had all turned to crap. We’d make it happen.’
‘So you did,’ I said thickly into the pillow.
‘Yeah, we did. And I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. But, when I said I was done with that life, I meant it. I was done. I didn’t want to explain and I didn’t want to justify it. I didn’t want anyone else’s expectations to get in the way of what I wanted. It was easier to cut that part of my life out completely. And, yes, it was selfish. But that’s what I am, Vee. I’m a selfish asshole.’
I could feel the prickle of tears behind my lids, the stupid sorry-for-myself part of me aching at the thought of how easy that had been for him. To just...cut me out. Like I hadn’t mattered. Like I’d never mattered. And how he’d lumped me in with everyone else who’d demanded things of him...
Except I’d never demanded things of him. I hadn’t been just another in a long line of people who’d expected him to change their lives... Or had I?
Of course you did. You’re just like all the rest.
My poor, wrung-out heart squeezed again as a flood of old memories filled my head.
Because of course I’d been just like the rest. The day of my sixteenth birthday, with all the people Mom had invited. People I didn’t want. But she’d insisted—because how else would I be accepted and cool? And she’d roped in Eli, and they’d all come because of him.
Then, when he’d arrived, everyone had been watching as he’d come to me first, smiling at me. Giving me a hug. Tall and handsome and golden, his smile lighting up the room. Everyone had been so jealous. All eyes had been on me and, as Eli had taken me in his arms, I’d been given a taste of what it felt to be him. To be the centre of attention. To have everyone wishing they were me.
I was only human. Deep in my heart, despite the armour I’d started to develop even back then, I’d wanted that acceptance. That buzz of popularity. I’d wanted to be the one everyone looked at, that everyone wanted. And that day, for the first time, I’d wanted Eli to stay—and not for the warm glow of his presence, but because for a couple of hours he’d made me the most popular girl in school.
In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 13
