“Do I have to tie you?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Not this time, but I’d love to show you a few knots.”
He did as she instructed and watched her—completely intrigued and entranced—as she bent over him. The feel of her tongue tracing the crease between his balls made him jerk upright.
“Dawn?”
“Don’t interrupt,” she said. “It’s your turn to be driven mad by someone’s mouth.”
He groaned in bliss as she suckled his sac.
He watched her kiss and lick and use her lips to massage his most sensitive skin until he couldn’t handle the sight of her giving him so much pleasure. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to feel the heat and moisture of her mouth, the heaviness of his balls, the unbearable throb pulsing down the length of his cock. He shifted slightly so he could bury both hands in the thick lustrous mass of her hair. He coaxed her head toward his cock, slowly, as if she wouldn’t notice. She nibbled, kissed, and suckled the flesh all around the base of his shaft, but no amount of tugging on her hair convinced her to take his tip into her mouth.
“Dawn,” he pleaded when he couldn’t stand the ache in his groin another moment. She gave his balls a thorough licking and then blew cooling breaths over the damp surface. He was trembling so hard he feared he’d collapse.
She paused in her exquisite torture, and he pried his eyes open to look down at her. She smiled reassuringly and reached for one of the candles burning nearby. His eyes widened when she blew out the flame and tipped the candle over his body until wax dribbled onto his belly. His abs contracted involuntarily as she drew a trail in wax from his belly button down, down toward his cock.
“Wait!” he cried. While a little molten heat on his belly was exciting, there were areas that he’d rather she didn’t burn with wax.
“Shh,” she said. “I trusted you completely. You owe me the same courtesy.”
Yeah, but he’d known what he was doing. He’d never have hurt her in any way.
But she hadn’t known that. She had placed her complete trust in him. He cringed, prepared to breathe through the pain as the hot, slow trickle of wax got closer and closer to his cock. Less than an inch shy of his throbbing shaft, she righted the candle and blew a soothing breath over the hardening wax. She started at his belly again and trickled another line of wax parallel to the first, again slowly moving toward his cock. He held his breath as the hot trail burned closer and closer to her target. Surely this time she’d… But no, she started another new trail on his belly. When she ran out of wax, she reached for a second candle. When her lips pursed to blow out the flame, he groaned. Dear lord, she was sensual. She smiled when her fourth trail of wax caused a bead of pre-cum to seep from the opening at the tip of his cock.
“Is this turning you on?” she asked, her voice low.
His answer was a groan of torment. If she didn’t touch his dick soon, he was going to die. The fifth line of hot wax had him sucking air between his teeth and his cock jerking with over excitement. A bead of moisture dripped from the rim of his cock head, and she caught it with her tongue, looking at him with those incredible eyes as she rubbed the small drop of fluid against her upper lip.
“Do you want me?” she asked, reaching for one of two condom packages resting near his hip.
His stomach ached, he was so turned on, but he couldn’t find the mental capacity to even nod. She tore the package open and removed the circle of cream-colored latex. He shuddered as her hand wrapped around his thick, hard-as-granite shaft. She directed his head into her mouth and the pleasure caused his arms to give out. The back of his head thumped against the piano lid, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the bliss Dawn’s mouth gifted him.
“Oh God, baby,” he moaned.
He groaned in misery when he fell free of his mouth. She rolled the condom down his length and then stepped away. His eyes flipped open when the piano keys pinged discordantly. She climbed onto the lid of the piano with him and placed a hand on his hip to coax him toward the center of the piano. Lying on his back on her beloved instrument, he felt panic seize his heart. What was he doing?
She straddled his hips, staring into his eyes, her glorious red hair surrounding her shoulders like a shimmering cloak. She held his gaze as she reached between her legs, grasped his cock, and rubbed its tip against her opening.
He squeezed his eyes closed. His stomach was in knots. He could scarcely breathe.
“Look at me, Kellen,” she said gently. “It’ll be okay.”
He opened his eyes, focused on Dawn’s face, her eyes, and a bit of the panic receded. He slipped inside her, and she moved her hand so she could take him inch by glorious inch. When he was buried deep, her eyes drifted closed.
“I feel you, Kellen,” she whispered. “Inside my body. Inside my soul. I feel you.”
“Yes,” he said breathlessly, not sure why his heart was thudding so hard or why his eyes were stinging with threatening tears.
She began to rise and fall over him, churning her hips to increase her stimulation and drive him deeper. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she gave his body unparalleled pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was because she’d gotten him so excited beforehand, but sex had never felt so good. Maybe his memory was just iffy because it had been so long, but he didn’t think so. Dawn just felt good, felt right. Felt safe and warm, exciting and soothing, all at once.
He lifted his hands to massage her breasts as she made love to him. When she began to croon as her orgasm approached, he shifted the palm of his hand to her lower belly and massaged her soft mound with his thumb.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Almost, Kellen.”
Her motions became exaggerated as she sought orgasm. His thumb slipped into the cleft between her swollen lips and rubbed her clit. Her back arched and she cried out, her thighs trembling and her pussy clenching around him as she shattered.
He struggled into a seated position and ran both hands over her smooth back, bending to kiss her throat, her jaw, her lips. She rubbed her breasts against his chest as her arms went around him to hold him close. She dropped her head to his shoulder and took a deep breath.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” she said. “Inside me. Perfect.”
They clung to each other for a long moment. Kellen’s cock began to protest the stillness between them.
He rolled her onto her back, maintaining the connection between their bodies. Her grip loosened just enough for him to thrust.
Ah God, she felt good. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to plunge into her tight pussy for hours.
He could hear himself chanting her name, feel the tightening in his balls as orgasm approached, but it was almost as if it was happening to someone else. He pumped his hips harder and faster. Taking her. Taking her. Harder and harder. Scooting her along the piano lid until the back of her head dropped off the far edge. She’d been making love to him, he’d felt her in every particle of his being, but he was fucking her and it was hardly as satisfying. He paused to catch his breath and find his bearings. He looked down to find her watching him. The single candle still burning made her eyes sparkle.
“Are you okay?” she asked, touching his cheek with one hand. “Why did you stop?”
He didn’t think he could speak, so he kissed her gently. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be on edge. Still kissing her, he cradled the back of her head in one hand and by inching downward and drawing her down to meet him, eased her into a less perilous position on the piano. Once he’d regained a little sense, he said, “Sorry I lost control like that. I’ll take it slower.”
“I don’t mind it rough, if that’s what you like.”
But he didn’t like it fast and rough as much as he liked it slow and tender. He knew he hadn’t been fucking her as hard as possible because it felt good—he’d been hammering himself into Dawn because Sara never allowed him to fuck her hard like that and he was still struggling with the reality of what he was doing. Enjoying Dawn b
othered him. Not enough to make him stop, but enough to get in the way of what he truly desired. He was finally making progress, but he was a long way from being free enough to give Dawn the care and affection she deserved. If she hadn’t been so understanding and patient, he’d have probably already left out of guilt.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“Both. But right now I’d like it slow. It gives me more time to think about how good it feels,” she said.
And that, he decided, was what he would concentrate on until he couldn’t hold back for another instant. Making her feel good. For as long as possible.
With a new purpose, and strict concentration, he began to move his hips again, watching her face for signs that he was getting it right. He found a slow, deep, grinding rhythm that made her writhe beneath him and moan in bliss. It took him a few minutes to realize he was making love to her to the rhythm of the ocean waves, the rhythm of her song, and apparently the rhythm of their bodies.
He believed in fate and destiny, knew in his heart that people were drawn to each other for a reason. From the moment he’d heard Dawn struggling to compose that song, he’d felt her pull on him. He was supposed to be with her. Maybe not making love to her on a piano during a power outage, but he knew that there was something cosmic about their joining. A reason they’d met. A reason she was so wonderful and accepting and downright irresistible.
Dawn framed his face with both hands and stared deep into his eyes as his pleasure escalated, one thrust, one crest at a time, higher and higher until he felt as if he’d lost contact with the earth and spiraled into the heavens. His muscles tautened as spasms of intense release pulsated deep inside him. He gripped her shoulders to hold her still as he drove himself deep and let go. This was more than a physical release. Years of pain and turmoil seemed to pump out of him with an even greater intensity that his erupting fluids.
His lower lip began to tremble and he knew he was about to completely lose it, so he lowered his body on Dawn’s and buried his face in her neck. He hoped she thought all those ragged breaths bursting from his lungs were due to physical exertion. How terrible would she feel if he did something as mortifying as cry while he spent himself inside her?
He refused to find out. He reburied some of his anguish, shoving it back into a familiar place where he could save it to dwell upon another day. He just couldn’t let go of it all at once. He probably should have taken it a little slower with Dawn—not jumped in the fire with both feet. But it was too late for misgivings now. He was completely engulfed in her flames and had no desire to escape, even if the ties of his past were wrenching him in the opposite direction.
Chapter Eight
Dawn stroked Kellen’s back as he lay trembling on top of her. She knew he was having a difficult time with the emotional aspect of this. He seemed to be okay with the physical part. Her body thanked him for that. She’d never been with a man who could stare directly into her eyes while he made love to her. It was as if Kellen wasn’t only making love to her body, but also to her soul. He’d touched her everywhere—inside and out.
“I just need a minute,” he said, his voice shaking almost as much as his body was. It made her heart ache for him.
If he cried, she was going to bawl right along with him. A tight knot was already lodged firmly in her throat.
“Take as long as you need,” she whispered. “I like the weight of you against me.”
She was actually finding it difficult to draw air, and the top of this piano was almost as comfortable as a cement floor, but her minor discomfort couldn’t possibly match what he was going through emotionally. She almost wished they’d waited before taking this step. What if he hadn’t been ready? What if by diving headlong into the physical side of their attraction, she’d completely ruined those deeper connections that she wanted to explore with him? The sex had been phenomenal and she had no doubt that it would get better between them as he shed the restraints of his past, but she would be devastated if her successful seduction hurt him. He was hurting enough already. And she didn’t have a clue what she should say to him. So she just lay there, holding him, until his trembling abated and he slowly withdrew from her body. She immediately missed the fullness of him inside her. She hadn’t realized the physical connection was so important to her until it went missing.
Kellen rose up on his elbows and stared directly at her forehead. “I… uh… thanks?”
Thanks? And not a statement, but a question. Wow, when had Mr. Deep and Sensitive vanished? Shit, was he one of those guys who pretended to be wounded to get in a woman’s pants? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been duped into having sex.
And, okay, she supposed that thanks were appropriate, but for some reason she got tickled by the earnest look on his face and started to laugh.
“Uh… you’re welcome?” she said in the same uncertain tone he’d used.
He grinned and then snorted as he tried to hold in a laugh. “That was pretty uninspired,” he said. “Let me try again. Your body is like a river of warm pleasure washing over me like… uh…” His eyes darted to the side as inspirational words apparently escaped him.
“A river of warm pleasure?” She was really laughing now. “You should have stuck with thanks.”
“Sorry for being lame. I have a hard time stringing coherent thoughts together after a really intense orgasm.” He grinned. “So yeah. Thanks!”
She wrapped him in an affectionate embrace, a little surprised that he wasn’t making excuses to leave.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” she asked, crossing her fingers behind his back.
Yes, sex had definitely happened too soon with this deep and tortured man. She wanted him to stick around, but maybe it would be better to convince him to stay with something other than another really intense orgasm. Not that she’d mind another one herself.
“What’s upstairs?”
She couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Uh, something more comfortable to cuddle on than this hard piano.”
He winced as he shifted slightly. “Such as a porcupine?”
“Even more comfortable than that.”
“I don’t think I can spend the night in your bed, Dawn,” he said. “Not because you aren’t the most wonderful thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time, but because…”
He didn’t have to say the words; she could read them on his face. He felt guilty for having sex with her. He probably even felt guilty for being attracted to her and talking to her and eating her fucking French toast, not to mention her pussy. Even in the low light given off by the single candle, the guilt in his eyes brought his reality crashing down around her. She knew letting go of Sara was difficult for him, and she wasn’t making it easy on him by jumping into this relationship at rocket speed, but someone had to shake him up. It might as well be her.
He glanced around the mostly dark room. “Would you settle for a sofa?”
“Anything’s better than this piano,” she said. “For resting on. Making love on it fulfilled a long-standing fantasy of mine, and the experience greatly exceeded my expectations. So… uh… thanks?”
He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose before scooting off the edge of the piano. Once standing, he stared down at her. “I never made love on a piano or even fantasized about it, but I will be from now on. You look absolutely stunning lying there.”
She basked in his attention as his gaze touched upon every inch of her naked body. She liked looking at him too. Especially when he was dripping wet as he had been the first time she’d seen him. “Have you ever made love on the beach?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking suddenly detached and forlorn.
Must have screwed Sara there, Dawn figured. She was starting to recognize that lost look as an indicator of that woman commandeering his thoughts. “And?”
“Sand everywhere,” he said. “In places you don’t want it. Making sandpaper out of body parts that have no business being abrasive.”
“Ouch,” she
said breathlessly, a little curious to know what that would feel like, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. Mostly because it would make him think of her.
Would Dawn have to spend every moment with him watching what she said so she didn’t set off Sara triggers? Was he even worth that much effort?
Hell yeah, he was.
Kellen removed the condom and disposed of it among her waded-up attempts at musical scores in the wastepaper can. She pretended not to be affected by watching him do something so intimate. Every little thing he did fascinated her for some stupid reason. She’d probably weep at his masculine beauty if she watched him shave. Sheesh, she was glad the man could not read her thoughts. It was bad enough that he knew how quickly she’d become physically attached to him—if he had any idea that she was already making an emotional attachment, she wouldn’t be able to gaze at him for long, because he’d be gone.
“Making love on the beach seems as if it would be romantic,” she said.
“Romantic, yes, but also uncomfortable.”
She chuckled as he approached the piano again. “Apparently, making love in uncomfortable locations turns me on.”
He laughed and lifted her from the piano, cradling her head against his shoulder. Her arms automatically circled his neck. She expected him to set her on her feet, but he carried her to the sofa and sat with her on his lap.
“Tell me about your parents,” she said.
“While I’m naked and holding you in my arms?”
“Yep.”
“My mom had a drinking problem and I never met my dad. Tell me
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