by Marie Force
I cry out from the surprise and the desire that shoots through me like a rocket, landing in a ball of heat between my legs.
“Mmm, yes, let me hear you. No holding back.” He slides his hands up the backs of my legs and squeezes my cheeks.
He’s hardly done anything, and I’m already about to come. Rising to his feet, he hands me a piece of paper he pulls from his pocket.
“What’s this?”
“Recent test results that prove I’m clean.”
I take a quick look, see what I need to know and hand it back to him. “Thank you.”
“We need a word. One word that stops everything if it ever gets to be too much for you.”
“Destiny.” I’ve given this some thought since we first talked about safe words, and I keep coming back to that one.
“I like it.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and gaze into the cool blue eyes that look at me with such desire. “It’s a reminder that even if I can’t handle what’s currently happening, I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
He kisses me and makes quick work of getting rid of our clothes. Then we’re falling onto the bed, a tangle of arms, legs and lips that never stop moving as we sort ourselves. Knowing we’re completely alone and have hours to indulge in each other goes a long way toward easing some of the tension I felt earlier.
I’ve read enough about sex and love and lovemaking after breast cancer to expect my body might not fully cooperate. I hope that doesn’t happen now.
“What?” he asks, his lips busy on my neck.
I close my eyes against an emotional reaction to his concern. I’ve never been with a man who was so tuned in to me, and in light of what I know about Kristian’s past, it’s remarkable that he’s so sensitive when no one taught him how to be.
“I’m… I’m not the same person I was before I got sick. I’m not as confident that everything will work the way it’s supposed to.”
“That’s not for you to worry about. It’s my job to make sure you feel good. Let me take care of you.”
All righty, then.
“No thinking or worrying allowed.” His lips skim over my collarbones and down to the tops of my breasts. “Just breathe and feel.”
Breathe and feel. I can do that.
“I want you to know that since I met you, I’ve been unable to bring myself to touch another woman.”
His confession shocks me. “You met me five months ago.”
“Believe me. I know.”
I’m reeling until he draws my nipple into his mouth and sucks gently, forcing me to give my full attention to what’s happening right now. It’s not quite the same sensation as it was before my surgery, but it feels amazing nonetheless. I try to take his advice to breathe and feel what is, rather than what used to be. And it feels pretty damned good to have his lips and hands setting my body on fire for him.
“I want to kiss you and touch you everywhere, but more than that, I want to be inside you,” he says in that gruff voice that’s such a turn-on. He takes himself in hand, his cock so hard, it’s purple and leaking.
“Yes… I want that, too.”
With his free hand, he tests my readiness.
I’m relieved to have dodged one of the more prevalent side effects of treatment—vaginal dryness. In fact, I seem to have the opposite issue, which apparently pleases him if his deep groan is any indication.
He aligns his cock with my pussy and gives a gentle thrust. “Nice and slow.”
Oh. My. God. He’s so big, it hurts, and not in a good way.
“Easy, sweetheart.” Retreating, he gives me a second to breathe before he’s back again, deeper this time.
My fingers dig into his back, seeking something to hold on to. At least I’m not thinking about my post-cancer body or vaginal dryness anymore. I can’t think about anything but the insistent invasion that’s starting to feel good.
“That’s it,” he says, beginning to move a little faster. “Yes, God, Aileen… Even better than I thought it would be. You’re so hot and tight.”
I can’t think or breathe or do anything other than feel, which is just what he wanted. I’m consumed by him, surrounded by his appealing scent, the rub of his chest and leg hair against my sensitive skin, the movement of his lips on my face and the deep, tight strokes of his cock.
“Hands over your head.” He reaches for them to pin me to the bed. “Is this okay?”
I look up at him and nod, loving the way it feels to be even lightly dominated by him. I wonder what else might be possible when he really lets go.
“Talk to me. Tell me how it feels.”
“Incredible.”
“That’s a good word.”
“It’s a good feeling.”
“Mmm, it certainly is. The best feeling ever.”
After that, there’re no more words, only deep sighs and gasps and a sharp cry when I come harder than I ever have before.
“Ah, fuck,” he mutters as he drives into me, throwing his head back as he comes, his fingers digging into my shoulders.
Every part of me tingles and throbs in the aftermath of the most spectacular sex of my life. I had no idea it could be like that until he showed me what was possible. I can only imagine what he’s capable of when he takes it to the next level. Actually, I probably lack the imagination to know what he’s capable of, but I can’t wait to find out.
Jesus. That was… I have no words to describe it. My brain is blank, but my body hums with energy and bone-deep satisfaction. What the hell is she doing to me? Before this, before her, the word bewitched was the name of an old TV show. Now it has taken on all-new meaning. I’m under her spell, captivated and bewitched by a woman for the first time in my life.
And God, it feels so good. I could get lost forever in the sense of contentment and well-being I experience every time I’m with her. It’s like coming home and finding paradise at the same time. I’ve never been truly at home anywhere, except with my Quantum family. But this is different. She’s all mine, and no one has ever been all mine.
I hold her closer, desperately afraid of losing her now that I’ve found her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. You?”
“Oh yeah,” she says with a dirty laugh that makes me smile. “Glad I didn’t forget how to do that.”
“You definitely didn’t forget.”
“What’re you thinking about?”
I withdraw from her and move to my side, keeping her tucked up against me. “How good it feels to be with you, no matter what we’re doing. But this…”
“This is the best.” She slides her leg between mine, and that’s all it takes to make me hard again. Laughing, she says, “That was quick.”
“It’s you.” I cup her ass and squeeze, making her gasp. I’m already addicted to how responsive and eager she is.
“No, it’s you.” Her voice is husky and sexy. I could listen to her recite a grocery list, and her voice would turn me on.
“It’s us. We’re good together.”
“So good.”
I’m suddenly paralyzed with fear. Nothing this good can possibly last. It never has before. The last time I allowed myself to get comfortable somewhere, I received a hard lesson on why it’s not prudent to trust other people with my emotions. I’d been in that foster home a year and had started to let down my guard around the family when they told me their son was graduating from college, and they needed the space I was taking up for him. I’ve never let that happen again, until now. My guard is so far down, it may as well not exist at all.
I should stop this while I still can, but damn if I can find the wherewithal to get out of bed while she is warm and soft and naked in my arms. I’ve learned not to risk more than I can afford to lose, and with her, I’m risking everything—my heart, my soul, my sanity—and I’m doing it with my eyes wide open.
Arranging her facedown on the bed, I leave a trail of kisses from her shoulders to her wais
t, noting the bones that protrude a little too prominently for my liking. I want to take care of her and make sure she’s eating and healing and thriving, but still I worry I’ll end up hurting her and her kids or being hurt by them when she moves on to someone who can give her softness and sweetness.
That’s not me. That’s never been me. No one ever showed me how to be those things. I’m all about harsh and aggressive and pleasing myself first and foremost. I haven’t been that guy with her, but maybe it’s time to give her a little taste of what she’d be getting if she hitches her wagon to me. Raising her to her knees, I roughly push her legs apart with my knees and take a bite out of her ass that will leave a bruise.
She lets out a mewling sound and arches her back, as if asking for more. I do the same to the other side and then hold her cheeks apart and give her my tongue—everywhere. Her sharp cries of pleasure feed the fire burning in me. I slide two fingers into her, curling them for maximum effect as I suck on her clit, and she explodes, screaming as she comes hard. I don’t let up, continuing to give her my tongue and my fingers, sliding one of them into her ass and making her come again, even harder this time. I keep my finger in her ass when I press my cock into her pussy, which is still twitching with aftershocks.
I focus on the pleasure, and only the pleasure. I can’t think about the white-picket-fence fantasy I’ve allowed to take me over since she arrived. That shit happens to other people. Not me. This is what I’m all about—raw, hard, dirty fucking. This I understand. This is what makes sense to me.
As I go at her hard and deep, I experience a twinge of guilt at knowing she’ll be sore tomorrow, but that doesn’t stop me. I wrap an arm around her midsection and hold her still for my fierce possession.
Fisting the quilt on my bed, she gives as good as she gets, her ass pressing back against me, taking everything I give her and crying out as she comes, squeezing my dick and my finger so hard that I lose the control I’ve been clinging to like a life raft in a storm.
I come down from the most incredible high to realize she’s crying. Her tears shatter me. Withdrawing, I turn her so I can see her face, which is wet with tears. “I’m sorry, Aileen. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She places her finger over my lips, quieting me. “You didn’t hurt me. Well, you did, but it was the best kind of hurt.”
I can’t bear the tears that continue to leak from the corners of her eyes. Everything hard in me goes soft again at the sight of those fucking tears. I love her desperately, endlessly. I kiss away her tears. “Why’re you crying?” The words come out harsher than intended, but her expression never changes as she gazes at me the way Natalie looks at Flynn and Addie looks at Hayden. Is it possible…
No. Just no. Don’t go there. I don’t dare to hope. Fucking hope has bitch-slapped me too many times to be tempted by it again.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived this long without knowing that was possible. What if I’d died when I was sick without knowing—”
I kiss her again because I can’t bear to hear her talk about how she could’ve died—or that she still could. I ache at the thought of this world without her in it, and I realize in one crystal-clear moment that I’ll never be able to stay away from her, even if that might be what’s best for both of us. I’m not strong enough to resist her.
I’m utterly terrified by the things she makes me feel, but I’m not going anywhere.
Chapter 17
Kristian is quiet as he drives me home at eleven. He’s been quiet since the second time we made love. He hardly said a word as he led me to the shower and washed every inch of me, sliding his hands over my body with the reverence of a man in love. He was quiet as he made us delicious veggie omelets that we ate at the bar in his kitchen.
He’s told me he finds my honesty refreshing, but maybe I went too far before with the tears and what I said to him after the most intense sex I’ve ever had. I hadn’t realized I was crying until he asked why. I’d been almost outside myself, if that makes sense, and when I came out of it, there were tears.
We’re driving along the boardwalk in Venice Beach when I give voice to my fears. “Did I do something wrong?” I immediately hate myself for assuming I’m the problem. But what else can I do when I have no idea what he’s thinking?
“Of course not.” He reaches across the gearshift to put his hand on my thigh, the heat of his palm branding me the way it always does when he touches me this way.
“You’ve gone quiet on me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I’ll assume I did something wrong or that you’re disappointed after having sex with me.”
“You did nothing wrong, and I am not disappointed after having sex with you. I’m the opposite of disappointed.”
“What’s the opposite of disappointed?”
“Euphoric? Stupidly hopeful? Enchanted? Bewitched? In so far over my head, I don’t know which way is up? To start with.”
“You feel all that?” I ask in a squeaky voice. “For me?”
“God, yes, Aileen. You’ve made a fucking mess of me.”
“You’re not… You’re not happy about it?”
“I’m… confused.”
My stomach starts to hurt. Confused is a long way from happy.
He brings the car to a stop outside my house, where only the living room is lit up, kills the engine and turns to face me. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncertain.” Running a finger over my cheek, he says, “That wasn’t my intention. Tonight was incredible.”
The light touch of his finger on my skin makes me shiver. “For me, too.”
“I’m flying without a net here. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Had sex?” I ask with a coy grin, hoping to cajole him out of the serious mood he’s in.
“Had sex that matters.”
“Are you freaking out?”
“Little bit.”
“We don’t have to… If you don’t want to… I mean, nothing says…”
Smiling, he wraps his hand around my neck and draws me into a soft, devastatingly sweet kiss. “We do have to, and I do want to, but you’ve got to be patient with me as I figure out how to do this. I’m the ultimate fixer-upper.”
“Why’re you so hard on yourself? If only you could see the Kristian that I see.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s kind and generous and smart and sexy and so amazing with my kids, who’re falling for him as fast and as hard as I am. He’s successful and sweet and has incredible friends who’d do anything for him, which tells me he’s the kind of man I want in my life, even if he doesn’t think he’s good enough for me and my kids. In his professional life, he’s confident and self-assured, but in his personal life, he’s filled with self-doubt. I’m trying to reconcile those two guys.”
He stares at me for a second, his mouth opening and then closing.
“How’d I do?”
“You summed me up rather well,” he says gruffly.
“What’re we going to do about this self-doubt in your personal life, which, from my vantage point, seems to be going rather well at the moment. Unless I’m mistaken…”
“You’re not mistaken.”
“Come in for a while.” I need to sleep, and so does he, but I need more time with him more than I need sleep or anything else.
He releases his seat belt, and we walk in together.
Cece is on the sofa, curled up with a book. She smiles when we come in.
“Hi there. How were they?”
“They were great. We had a nice time. Logan is so smart, and Maddie is just the sweetest little girl.” She puts the book into her bag and slides her feet into flip-flops. “Did you guys have a good dinner?”
I wonder if she knows exactly where we’ve been and what we’ve been doing. “We did,” I say, trying to keep my expression neutral. I’ve never had anything to hide from a sitter before, and I feel the need to giggle all of
a sudden.
“What time do you need me on Saturday?”
“Can you do five?” Kristian asks.
“Sure, no problem. What time do you expect to be back on Sunday?”
“By noon?” he says.
“That works for me.”
I withdraw my wallet from my purse to pay her.
“All set,” Kristian says, handing her some rolled-up cash.
I want to protest, but I won’t argue with him in front of her. I show her out and thank her again.
“It was a pleasure. Your kids are adorable.”
“That’s so nice of you to say.”
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. See you on Saturday.”
I watch her get into her car and wave as she drives off. “How much did you pay her?” I ask him.
“I don’t recall.”
“Kristian! Come on. You can’t pay for my babysitters!”
He puts his arms around me. “Why not?”
I flatten my hands on his chest to keep him from distracting me. “Because they’re my kids, and I pay for them.”
“It makes me happy to do things for you—and for them. You want me to be happy, don’t you?”
“Don’t be manipulative.”
His face lights up with a sexy grin and those dimples… Dear God, the dimples… It’s not fair. How am I supposed to fight with those damned dimples?
“I know you’ve raised your kids all by yourself, and I so admire what a great job you’ve done with them, but you’re not alone anymore.” As he says those words, something that resembles fear skirts across his expression before he schools his features. He swallows hard. “You have to let me help out once in a while, because I want to, not because I feel I have to.”
“Does saying that to me scare you?”
He nods.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Because as much as I want you, I’m still terrified I’ll disappoint you. And the kids.”
“Of course you will. No one’s perfect, and I don’t expect you to be. I’ll probably disappoint you, too.”
He leads me to the sofa and sits next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders to draw me in close to him. “Not possible.”
