STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1)

by Oakes, Tara

  The first exhibit we stop at is one about woodworking. Each delicate piece is handcrafted from different hard woods. Many of them are intricate, detailed, but each is beautiful.

  “This must be one of your favorites,” I voice my thoughts.

  He nods. “It is. But what makes you think so?”

  I touch one of the smooth contours of the circular piece of artwork before me. “Because of what you do. You work with wood all day but in a different way. A different capacity. It must be interesting to see it used like this.”

  Will purses his lips together. “I usually look at each piece. But tonight, I can’t seem to concentrate.”

  “Why?” I wonder aloud.

  He slips his arms around me, bringing us closer together. I exhale deep. I missed this. I don’t know how, since I’ve only felt it a few times… but I missed it.

  “Because I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

  I feel my cheeks warm, my pulse flutter at his confession.

  “Show me your favorite exhibit,” I ask him.

  He smiles, the twinkle in his eye is bewitching. I want nothing more than to kiss him right now, but I fear it may gloss over the importance of the information I’ve learned of him.

  “Come.” He takes my hand, leading the way.

  We come upon an old Chinese house, completely restored, with its outer rooms forming the perimeter of the inner courtyard. Natural light fills the space, but it’s taking on a cooler hue with the oncoming night. An older couple exits just as we enter the main entryway.

  “This is my favorite. Every plank, every nail, joist and shingle is original.”

  My eyes wander around as he tells me of this place.

  “It’s a piece of history. A home where people from the past were born, lived, and died. Something that transcends the limits of time. You see, we’re all limited by time. It’s something that can’t be escaped. But places like this…” his hand glides over the spackled surface of the nearest wall. “Things like this, if taken care of, can withstand time. They can be indefinite.”

  He studies the room around us anew, although I’m quite sure he’s seen it many times before.

  “How do you do it?” I ask him.

  He looks at me, confused. “Do what?”

  I lick my lips, breathing in deep. “Have such passion.”

  His dark eyes hood themselves. He moves effortlessly, stalking his way closer to me. His look is intense. I can see the small muscles of his jaw twitching as if they were clenching. I feel a wave come over me. My heartbeat grows loud, thudding between my ears. I can tell by his reaction to me that he senses it, knows the effect his moving body has on me.

  He mercilessly presses me against the ancient wall, his body looming over me.

  “I’m passionate about a lot of things. Ever since I laid eyes on you, though, you’re the only thing I--”

  My mouth is dry and I fear my lips will crack as I speak. “The only thing what?”

  His lips inch closer. I watch them until they disappear, too close to my own to be seen. His lips take my lower lip between theirs, sucking gently and pulling slightly to tease me.

  “The only thing I want. More than anything else. I feel more passion about you than anything else I ever had. It scares the crap out of me.”

  He takes my upper lip now, repeating the sensual torment.

  I open my mouth to speak, my warm breath casts onto him. His tongue slips in, darting to meet mine, inflicting a deep need over me. It lures a whimper from my core, speaking to him, begging him for more.

  I pull him in, my hands fisting his shirt, demanding he continue. A deep guttural growl rumbles through him. I don’t know what’s come over me, but there is no way to stop. It’s not even an option. No kiss is deep enough, no touch long enough, although we try like hell to find it.

  My hands roam, my fingers reading his body like braille, every bump and curve telling a story. I find my hands playing with the waist of his jeans, tracing the edge.

  Our panting is heavy, substantial, animalistic. His hands grip around and I know he fights not to lift me high. My fingers curl themselves, the tips bearing the nails that want nothing more than to cling to him, keep him close.

  His body buries me, covering me with his brooding shoulders. His hand settles on my backside, closing hard around my flesh. I whimper once more.

  “We need to get out of here,” he states quickly.

  I nod, finding it tough to swallow. “Now.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Conveniently, Will’s large black pickup truck is parked outside in the museum parking lot. We practically run from the building to get to it.

  The sky has turned while we were indoors, with a heaviness settling over the evening. I can feel the rain swelling in the clouds above, waiting to be released. Will reaches the truck first, his long legs beating my stride. The passenger door is held open for me, and then swiftly closed.

  I find myself anxious, fidgeting around with a loosened thread on the inner seam of my jeans. The engine is brought to life, revved to prepare the truck for its race across town. When the gearshift is locked in place, Will’s hand is free to close around mine, calming my nerves.

  I remember from my last trip to his home that the ride is short. What do we do for the few minutes? Do we talk? Should I speak? Maybe I should turn the stereo on? I find my mind racing as we take a hard corner and the force throws me into Will’s side.

  “Sorry.”

  I smile nervously. “I’m alright.”

  The rumbling of the mighty engine under me is doing things to my already heightened senses. I shift to relieve some of the cruel taunting on my bottom.

  Will’s arm tightens around me. “Almost there, baby.”

  I don’t know if it’s the spike in humidity from the impending rainstorm or the heat we each give off in pants, but the windows begin to fog. Will wipes the glass with his sleeve to clear the view of his little neighborhood as it comes into focus.

  It was pitch black, after midnight, the last time I was brought here. I was also frightened out of my wits from the ordeal in the cemetery. I hadn’t had any time to take stock of the neat rows of houses we passed. I recognize the navy blue one with white plantation-style shutters, though, as we pull into the drive and the truck is thrown into park before the engine stills.

  Moose is propped up on some piece of furniture through the window, balancing himself on the ledge to watch his master return. Will kisses my lips impatiently, his hand moves to support my head. His thumb swipes over my plump lower lip when his mouth releases it.

  He’s speaking to me, but not using any words. I somehow hear the question his body language asks of me.

  I’m ready. I nod.

  His mouth shows its familiar smirk to me before he turns to leave the cab of the truck. I gather my handbag and slide back over to my side, grasp the door latch and push, only to be caught in Will’s arms as his strength pulled harder on the door, bringing me with it.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or to cower in embarrassment as he holds me, halting my nosedive to the driveway.

  “There,” he supports my body as I situate myself, my legs taking their rightful place below. His hands linger longer than my clumsiness calls for.

  “What?” I ask as his gaze seems to search for something in my eyes.

  He blinks. “You surprise me. I love that about you.”

  I bite the inside of my lower lip, holding back my ear-to-ear smile. “You’re not so boring yourself, you know that?”

  I can’t remember a single person who’s managed to throw me for a loop like this man. He has my insides flipping like a never-ending rollercoaster whenever he’s near.

  The rush of adrenaline that surges at his touch is like nothing I’ve ever felt. The lightheadedness that takes over when his lips claim mine is almost painful in its intensity, yet I crave it, silently beg for it with my eyes. He reads me, my voiceless request heard loud and clear.

  He kisses my foreh
ead, sheathing some sort of possessiveness over me. His lips smooth over my forehead, inching their way to my ear.

  “If we stay out here, my neighbors are gonna get one helluva show.”

  He doesn’t wait for a reply. I’m not even sure how to respond to something like that. He simply closes the car door behind me, takes my hand in his, and leads me into the sanctuary of his little house.

  A small desk lamp lights a far corner of the entryway, casting a muted green light onto the polished floor. He holds the door open for me and I enter cautiously. The last time I walked through this threshold, neither of us had any expectations. Tonight… I’m not exactly sure what I expect, I only know I need to feel every single one of those emotions he manages to bring out in me.

  The first one, a delicious sort of tension tightening my muscles. The second, a nervous excitement as the light turns out. The third, a restless curiosity as I wait in the dark. And finally, the thrill that surges through every fiber of my being as his body takes mine.

  He holds me close, his lips expertly finding mine as his tongue, my tongue join together, melting to form one. My senses are heightened.

  “I can’t see you,” I whisper.

  His tongue thrusts, his mouth contracts as I’m taken deeper and deeper, blindly being led backward.

  “I don’t want you to just see me. I want you to feel me. I want you to feel every single touch, every caress as I worship you. I want you to hear me as I breathe over you. That’s how you’re going to see me. Your fingertips, your lips, your skin… that’s what you’ll see me with tonight.”

  His words, his deep, bold words, bind me like chains, tie me close to him. I hear the rumpled swishing of cotton as his shirt is pulled overhead. The gasp I hear is my own as his naked, bare chest exposes itself. Magma-like heat radiates around him, spreads to me as I explore each contour.

  The smooth skin is velvety, the texture like a well-sculpted mosaic. I tear my lips from his and they join my fingers in burrowing in the swaths of muscles covering his upper body. The salty sting his taste gives me is carnal in how it feeds the growing appetite down low.

  He hisses as my lips take hold of the delicate hardened peak centered over the large bulge on his chest. It’s a whirlwind as I hear him panting as I take his nipple, feel his body harden and taste the musk that rivals his scent.

  “I see you,” my words echo in the hollow of his chest.

  He growls, taking hold of my neck and claiming my mouth yet again. His free hand reaches low under my thigh and pulls hard and quick, scooping me up to hold him with my legs.

  I’m higher now, propped up, as he walks for the both of us, carrying me to where he wants. I feel the heat of his skin between my clothed thighs, the fever of his lips on the soft skin under my neck.

  My hands roam through his short hair, holding him to my chest. Our bodies swing together with the force of his gait as his strong form holds me high. How he makes this seem so easy, I have no idea.

  We turn, changing direction and I feel the closeness of the doorframe as we walk under it. His hand splays out across my back, supporting me as we tumble into the plushness of what must be his bed.

  I feel the tickle as my wavy hair explodes into a maze of locks framing my face. He lifts himself, resting on his forearms so as not to crush me. I feel a rogue wisp of hair guided away from my cheek, his long fingers moving it about.

  “You are so beautiful,” his raspy voice declares.

  I nuzzle my chin into his palm and kiss into the creases. “You can’t even see me, Will. How can you say that?”

  He kisses the point of my chin. “I….”

  He kisses my throat. “See….”

  He kisses the top of my right breast. “You.”

  My eyes roll back, my core arches upward, elongating my body as I struggle to stay together, to not burst at the seams. His hands bunch the bottom of my shirt in his fists, gathering the material to whip over my head as I snake my body to offer assistance. The shirt pauses as it reaches my wrists, held high overhead, stretching out across the mattress.

  I feel the fabric tighten as he twists it, binding my two hands together, commanding my attention.

  “I’ve waited so long for you… for this.” His mouth instantly warms the gooseflesh that spreads over my bare skin, the area once hidden from him, hidden from every man.

  My breath hitches, my body quivers, the influx of new sensations is too much for my mind to process. He holds my hands taut, the makeshift cuffs of the shirt proving effective in keeping them immobile. His free hand shoves under my back, fingers releasing the hooked closure of my bra with a burst of flesh as the mounds inside are freed.

  His mouth goes to work, charged with a renewed strength as it devours the peaked breasts that have never felt the touch of another. He seems to know this, christening my flesh with deep kisses that burn deliciously, feeding the flames lapping below the surface.

  I wiggle, my body riddled with untapped fervor begging to be released. I bite my lower lip, and scream under my breath. My fingers clench and stretch.

  “I want to touch you,” I voice my frustration.

  His teeth gently nip at the bundled nerves of my nub as my chest lusciously chafes against the growing stubble of his jaw. With a jerk of his hand, my wrists are released, able to reach out for him and grab tightly.

  My fingers clamor to his back, kneading, urging him on. They work their way to his belt and I trace the leather band around to the front buckle. I pull and grab at it ferociously, knowing that at any moment I could lose the courage that’s emboldening me.

  The well-worn leather slips easily back through the metal fastener. Will pushes, giving us the momentum to roll, readjusting so that he’s lying flat on his back, my hair showering him and falling around us as if shielding our kiss.

  His large palms smooth down my sides, tickling my nakedness before settling on my denim covered thighs. I feel his firmness pushing into my leg, drawing my attention back to the area. With one last purse of my lips around his, I release and sit tall straddling him.

  His brown eyes are nearly black now, watching me in this new powerful position over him. My nails aren’t long by any means, but I tilt my finger to use the corner as I trace a line down his center, following the natural indentation marking his midline. His flesh is smooth under my touch, but scorching hot. I continue through the short trimmed hairs near his lower middle.

  I feel the many muscles of his stomach contract as the waistband of his jeans pulls tight with me working the button. It pops free, the little handle to the zipper calling to me next. I swallow hard as a lump forms in my throat.

  This is it. This is the moment. There’s no going back after this. No quick exit or random excuse to hightail it out of here and away from him. That may have worked in the past, on others, but it’s not even an option tonight. I find myself drawn to him like nothing I’ve ever known. I couldn’t leave him, leave this, even if I tried.

  His arm lazily raises itself, caressing my cheek as I pause in hesitation. The softness in his touch sings to my heart, his concern evident in the tenderness of his fingers as they smooth over my skin.

  I arch my neck sideways lining my lips up to his thumb. Natural instinct somehow kicks in, guiding me, and I take his thumb in my mouth. I hold it hostage, gently biting the tip right above his nail bed as I swiftly pull my arms back, lowering his jeans.

  His hips buck, cooperating in the lowering of his pants. Tight black boxer briefs hug his body, his strong muscular thighs, and the largest muscle of all bulging through the cotton.

  With his legs freed, he sits up, bringing his chest, his lips, closer, where they connect with mine. I sit in his lap, straddling him, his hands kneading my back cheeks firmly, the rhythm matching the strokes of his tongue, both pulling and pushing me closer into him.

  “Your turn.”

  His own hands now task themselves with unbuttoning jeans. My jeans. I freeze and sweat at the same time, my body disoriented and confuse
d at the rush of adrenaline. His teeth scrape against my tongue, offering variation and torment to the rapture his body is eliciting from mine.

  I sit forward, propping myself up on my knees, adding height to my position so his mouth conveniently slips down into my cleavage. It’s also the perfect angle for him to lower my tight jeans as much as he can, hitching them down to my thighs, exposing the lace panties that his fingers now play with as his voice groans with approval at my choice in undergarment.

  His muscles tense, preparing his body before he twists and throws us down into the bed, dominating the moment. No words. No kissing. Just a raw animal magnetism taking hold as he nearly rips my favorite jeans from my body.

  My legs stretch, my toes pointing and curling. I feel a coolness pool around the apex between my thighs and I instinctively clench them together. Will’s beautiful form silhouettes itself in the moonlight, the perfect specimen of masculinity. His knee nudges between my own, gaining space inch by inch and I fear the dampness he’s creating will be discovered.

  He lowers his head to my belly as his knee simultaneously wiggles higher and higher. His tongue slips out, licking the tightness of my skin, swirling around the delicateness of my belly button. I giggle as the tickling shoots through me, my core shaking from the vibrations of my little laughs. His teasing switches to delicious torment as he nips at my skin.

  I gasp as I realize his gentle biting was a distraction as he lowers my tiny panties. I close my eyes and arch my neck backward, my back bending unnaturally, bridging my body. I bite my lip in fantastic agony.

  “Tell me no man has touched you here, seen you like this,” he asks, his voice echoes between the flesh of my thighs.

  “No one,” I answer truthfully, no concern to how my confession of virginity sounds.

  There’s no description for the noise he makes. It’s grips me.

  “Good.”

  His mouth smashes into me, into the most delicate of spots. The intensity of the pleasure deserves a scream but I can’t muster the breath for it. My mouth gapes open, nothing but air escaping. He licks and suckles every inch of every fold, feeding like a starving man.