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Beautiful Mine

Page 5

by Jordyn White


  I close my eyes, sit back slightly, and moan. God, it’s incredible. “Mmm,” I say, opening my eyes after a moment.

  “Good?” He’s watching me. His fork is suspended in midair, apparently forgotten.

  I smile and get a bite of my dish for him. He holds my eyes. As I feed him, watching his lips slowly slide over my fork, I decide it’s the most erotic thing I’ve seen him do yet.

  I hope it’s not the last.

  Chapter 5

  Whitney

  After dinner, Connor comes back to the Santiago de Compostela with me for the second Botafumeiro ceremony, even though it wasn’t originally in his plans since he’d been at the pilgrim’s mass this afternoon as well. We hustle inside, running a bit late since we lingered too long at dinner.

  Which was amazing.

  Being with Connor is giving me such a high, even approaching this incredible cathedral feels better than it did earlier, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. As a bonus, during dinner he told me he’s continuing his Camino tomorrow just like I am. His boat is docked in Muxia, which is just a bit farther up the coast from Finisterre, where I’m heading.

  We didn’t exactly make plans to walk together tomorrow, but when he found out I don’t fly home until Saturday, he gave me another slow, slow smile.

  When we go through the broad entry and into the nave, it’s standing room only. The afternoon mass had been full, but this is bursting at the seams. The pews are packed, and the outer perimeter, which is meant to be a walkway, isn’t much better. The opening music has started and we’re hovering in place, glancing around for a place to land.

  “Looks like we’ll have to stand,” I say quietly, leaning close to him so he can hear.

  Connor puts his hand on the small of my back and whispers in my ear. “The view will be better around that side.” He points down the outer aisle to the right. “Let’s try to squeeze through.”

  I nod in agreement, liking the feel of his touch and hoping he’ll stay close. He doesn’t have much choice. As we navigate behind the crowd of pilgrims standing along the outer aisle, he’s right behind me, though he did drop his hand. Dammit.

  We work our way closer to the transept, where the Botafumeiro will be performing its act. “Right here,” he says quietly, pointing to a small space next to a woman in a blonde ponytail. She gives a welcoming smile when she sees us eyeing the space next to her.

  As I settle next to the woman, I wish Connor and I were still touching. Soon enough, I get my wish. As the mass continues, more pilgrims enter late and a few end up squeezing in next to us. We shuffle a few inches to make room. Connor and I end up pressed close to each other, his hand on my back again. My left arm and hip are connected to his right shoulder, chest, and thigh. We settle in this way, and linger.

  Just so you know. I. Am going. To hell. Because I’m officially feeling zingy in places that prolly shouldn’t be zinging when you’re in church.

  Maybe if I were Catholic I would at least try to focus on the mass, but no. Apparently I am a weak and lustful woman. The longer the mass goes on and the longer I’m standing right up next to him, the weaker my resolve and the worse things get. My mind’s really running away from me now. I’m back to envisioning Connor naked, but there’s no tub in my imaginings this time. It’s just him and me and those hands of his all over my body. Did I mention that in this fantasy I’m naked too? Way naked, people.

  Even when the priests lower the massive silver incense burner, I’m completely distracted. The priests add the incense on top of the burning coals in the Botafumeiro, but I’m the one burning. I wonder if Connor can feel the heat coming off my body. Or am I feeling the heat coming from him? My entire left side is hot and humming where we touch.

  The priest gives the giant censer a push and steps out of the way as it starts to swing. The priests with the rope give it a tug so it bounces higher. Its swing widens on the rope. We do have a good view, Connor and I, and I have to turn my head to the right to follow its path as it swings past. When it comes back I turn my head to the left, toward Connor.

  My eyes leave the Botafumeiro and land on him. He’s not looking at it either. He’s looking directly at me. In my peripheral vision, the censer swings back down and out of sight behind me. His eyes are holding mine. He glances at my lips for a brief moment. There’s that subtle gasp from the congregation that means the Botafumeiro is reaching new heights. My heart is pounding.

  Again the giant censer comes into my peripheral vision, swinging up high behind Connor. I don’t look at it. I can’t take my eyes away from him. I really, really want him to kiss me, and he looks like he’s about to. Right here in church!

  The smoking censer swoops back down and out of my vision. His eyes drop to my shoulder and he leans close. For a split second, my heart leaps in anticipation of a kiss. As soon as I realize he’s not going for my lips, but rather getting next to my ear so he can whisper something, disappointment drops through me.

  “I shouldn’t be having thoughts like this in the middle of a mass,” he whispers. His breath tickles my ear and sends shivers over my skin.

  He pulls back only the tiniest bit, staying close, following the curve of my jaw. His mouth comes near and I turn my head just a bit, to bring my mouth closer to his. The massive censer speeds past. He presses his lips to mine. Everything else falls away. I hear nothing. My breath catches. My heart flutters against my chest.

  I kiss him back, exhaling slowly, pressing my lips against his. My left arm curls around him, my fingertips brushing his shoulder blades.

  It’s a brief kiss, a stolen moment, and it leaves me smoldering. He ends it gently, but stays close, holding my eyes. My awareness expands again. All these people around feel like an intrusion. I want to be alone with him.

  He gets next to my ear again, his soft scruff rubbing gently against my jaw. “Want to get out of here?”

  I nod. I’m going to hell anyway. Ditching out of church isn’t going to change anything.

  There are people everywhere. In the hall. In the courtyard. On the street. In the hotel lobby. We’re walking close, my hand in his. The memory of our kiss lingers on my lips like a physical presence. I just want to be alone with him. I want him to kiss me again, longer this time. Deeper.

  As we wait for the elevator in the hotel lobby, two other people are waiting as well. Connor and I look at one another. No longer a wondering look, this is a look of desire.

  The doors open and we all file in. Connor hits the number 7 as we enter, then pulls us into the back corner. We let go of hands and slide arms around waists instead. One of the men hits the number 3 and the other says, “Quatro, por favor.”

  It takes forever. Connor looks at me, his thumb subtly rubbing along my side, making my nerves dance. I’m taking in those blue eyes—god, they’re so intense—and running my hand slowly up his back... then slowly down to his waist.

  Second floor.

  He leans close to my ear, to whisper something I thought. Instead he plants a soft, hot kiss just under my earlobe. I want to close my eyes and lean my head back, but the people. I hold my breath, scoot closer, tighten my hold on his body.

  Third floor.

  The car stops. The bell dings. Connor and I watch the doors expectantly. It is an eternity before they finally bloody open and the first man steps out.

  We’re faced forward now as the car finally starts to move again. We keep a sharp eye on the digital number above the door, watching as the three changes to a four, eager for the last occupant to leave the car so we can finally, finally be alone.

  Fourth floor. Connor’s hand spreads on the side of my waist, pressing firmly, holding me to him. The bell dings and I’m hardly breathing. The doors slide open and there is a quiet moment of panic as we see there’s a woman and her child on the other side, waiting to get on.

  The man leaves, the two start to get in before realizing this car is going up when she wants to go down, and they mercifully step back to wait for another car.
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br />   As the doors begin to close, seconds away from giving us our privacy, our hold on one another tightens. As soon as the gap in the doors disappears, he angles me back against the wall, his body in front of me, pressing against me. He cups my jaw with one hand, my lips part slightly, and he pauses.

  Only for a moment.

  Just long enough to hold my eyes and make me see him before his lips are on me and my arms are around him and his body is against me hard. Good lord. Our kiss deepens and the warm taste of him heightens every nerve in my body. I put my hand to his cheek, caressing the soft whiskers.

  Mere seconds pass when already the bell is dinging and the doors are opening to the seventh floor.

  He backs away, eyes on me. I take a shaky breath. He takes my hand again and leads me out of the elevator on weak legs. We take quick steps down a long hall, my hand in his and my heart pounding the entire way. As before, when we were walking to the restaurant, our eyes are on each other more than on the floor in front of us.

  We stop in front of a door at last, but he brings me in for a kiss. Our lips are soft. They open slightly so our tongues can briefly brush against the other. And again.

  He breaks our kiss and gives me another intense look before turning his attention to the door and the keycard. When we go into the darkened room, he leads me to the nightstand next to the queen-sized bed. As the door closes behind us, the light from the hall steadily narrows, then disappears. When he leans toward the lamp, there is a moment when it is all shadowy silhouettes and a sliver of midnight blue through the tiny crack in the curtains. His body is close and I would contentedly keep us wrapped up in the dark like this if he wanted to.

  A metallic click precedes the soft bloom of light from the lamp. This is good too, because now I can see his handsome face and the shape of his broad chest underneath his tee.

  He pulls me in and kisses me, bringing his hand into my hair at the base of my neck. Now that there’s nothing to hold us back, I take him in deeply. Our tongues play together. Our grip on each other tightens. His hand slides down my back and to the curve of my ass.

  Every passing second, every movement, increases the heat in my core. My entire body is buzzing so hard, it’s all I can do not to attack him like a crazed lunatic. I don’t know if it’s him or the fact that it’s been so long since I’ve been with a man like this or both, but I’m already so wet and aching, I fear one touch in the right place will push me over.

  He brings his hands to my face, cupping it as he kisses me. “We stop when you say stop,” he says breathlessly. “We don’t have to do any more than you want to.” My face is in his hands as he continues kissing me fervently.

  I nod, barely hearing him. “Okay.” I’m kissing him back, arms around him, hands roaming.

  “I mean it.” He stops and pulls back enough to look me directly in the eyes. He’s smoldering, but he’s serious.

  I nod again. “I know. It’s okay. Don’t hold back.”

  At that, he doesn’t. He backs me against the wall until I’m pinned, my heart pounding in my throat and his hard rod pressing into my upper thigh.

  A few inches over and you’ve got me.

  Practically squirming, I kiss him hard, gathering up the material of his tee to lift the hem. He backs up and removes his shirt in one smooth movement, muscles flexing. Oh yeah, I’m definitely grateful for the light now. I put my hands on his pecs, exhaling in appreciation and taking him in.

  His movements halt for a moment. I glance up at him, blood coursing through me and hands still caressing his chest. Except for his slight panting, he’s perfectly still, watching me. I return to his chest, rubbing my hands over his firm shoulders.

  He exhales and cups my face again, kissing me intently. I bring my arms around his neck and press against him, feeling his torso against mine. There’s too much between us. I want my bare skin on his.

  Hurriedly, we both reach for my shirt at once. He gently pushes my hands away and lifts my shirt off himself. I start to go for my bra, but he pulls my hand down to my side, firmly holding it in place as he undoes the hook with his other hand. I let out a tight exhale.

  Releasing my hand, he slides the straps down my arms and his eyes fall to my breasts. My bra drops to the floor and he cups the underside of both breasts in his hands. I exhale shakily. I feel like a teen again, trembling at every touch.

  His thumbs rub gently over my nipples. Then he brings his eyes to mine and does it again. My mouth is slightly open and he puts his mouth over me, tongue tasting me. I grip his firm biceps and moan lightly.

  He breaks away, dipping down to me. I arch my back to meet him. When I feel his wet mouth on me, I close my eyes and throw my head back.

  Too long. God, it’s been too long. I forgot how good this feels.

  His arms tighten around me, hands spread wide on my back. I run one hand down his back and one into his hair. He teases my nipple, circling it with his tongue before taking it back into his mouth. I watch him move to the other side, squeezing me while his mouth sucks and pulls on my nipple.

  Suddenly, he pulls away. “Oh, shit.”

  “Whaa?” Which is all I can manage. What I’m thinking is, Why the fuck are you stopping?

  He straightens and looks at me, a mixture of heat and dismay on his face. “I didn’t... pack for this.”

  I blink at him. What?

  “I don’t have protection,” he clarifies.

  “Oh.” I’m not on anything either, thanks to my non-existent love life. “Oh, shit.”

  “Exactly.” He pauses for a second then holds up a finger, looking determined now. “I’ll take care of it.” He gives me a quick kiss then grabs his shirt from the floor. “I’ll be back in five minutes.” He kisses me again, then wrestles his shirt on. “Two.” He kisses me again. This time he cups my face in his hands and lingers, kissing me deeply and eagerly.

  Pulling back but staying close, he looks into my eyes. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say heatedly. “I won’t.”

  He kisses me once more, then hustles out the door, leaving me alone in his room, shirtless and breathless. “Ahhhh....” I breathe out, half swooning, half collapsing on the bed. “Oh my god.” I sit up, putting my hands in my hair. I’m so tingly and flushed I can hardly think.

  One glance at my hiking boots changes all that. I hop up and hurriedly unlace them, tucking them in the corner away from the bed, along with my socks. I take my shorts off, too, but leave on my underwear, even though they’re not exactly the sexiest thing I could be wearing. Plain cotton, but at least they have soft lace trim and a cute pattern.

  I took a bath just a few hours ago, thank god, but I still want to freshen up my feet. I’m probably being paranoid, but taking off hiking boots just is not as sexy a feeling as kicking off heels. I dash into the bathroom and flip on the light. It’s too bright after the soft light in the main room. I grab a washcloth and quickly wash my feet in the tub and pat them dry.

  I check my appearance in the mirror, hastily fussing with my hair. Even though I wasn’t really able to style it earlier, its natural wave works to my advantage and it actually looks pretty good. My face has a vibrant flush, too, thanks to Connor’s magic touch. God. And, since I’ve always detested shaving and got the full-body laser treatment a few years ago, my legs are smooth and I’m fully groomed.

  I quickly grab the little container of lotion, wondering how long it’ll take him to track down condoms in a foreign country, but I already hear the keycard in the lock. Heart leaping into my throat I throw down the lotion, flip off the too-bright lights, and hustle to lean casually against the door frame of the bathroom. I manage to put a relaxed, sexy expression on my face before he enters the room.

  He comes in, takes one look at me and freezes, the door halfway open but shielding any view of me from the hall. The heated expression on his face warms me right up again. As he releases the door and it slowly swings closed, I can’t help but notice he’s empty handed.

&nb
sp; “Did you strike out?” I’m trying not to sound like I’m pouting. Which I may or may not be doing. It’s not an important point, really.

  “No,” he says distractedly, eyes still taking me in. “I got a couple.”

  Thank god. “Just a couple?”

  His eyes swing hard up to mine then and I give him a wicked grin. He takes three decisive steps forward, removing his shirt and tossing it aside, then scoops me into his arms. I hang onto his neck and he kisses me—the tip of his tongue brushing the tip of mine—as he carries me to the bed.

  He lowers me and releases me just above the mattress. I land with a soft bounce. He doesn’t join me though. He kneels at the foot of the bed, hooks his hands around my upper thighs, and yanks me down until my ass is right on the edge. Right under him.

  Now it’s his turn for a wicked grin. Good thing, because I can barely breathe. Arms still hugging my upper thighs, he brings one hand down the front, scoots the damp crotch of my panties out of the way, and exhales like I’m the most desirable thing he’s ever seen.

  Then slowly, so slowly, he dips down to me. His soft, wet tongue brushes the base of my folds. It slides up slowly, covering me with heat and moisture. My eyes slide shut and my hips relax open. I let out a slow exhale, matching the slow advance of his tongue up my seam. My core trembles in anticipation before he gets there. When he touches my aching clit I exhale sharp and loud, arching my back.

  Oh god.

  He tightens his embrace around my thighs, and circles the wet tip of his tongue around my clit before flicking it directly.

  Oh god.

  He sucks on it gently before rubbing the flat of his tongue side to side over the tip.

  Oh god. This, this, this.

  My breaths come short and hard. My channel is hot and aching, my legs are spread wide, my head is back, my mouth open. It’s been so, so long and it all feels so good I almost can’t handle it. I’m almost embarrassed to come so soon but with his tongue on me like that, it’s a force I can’t stop. It grips me hard and I’m trembling and moaning in a mind-tilting climax.

 

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