“Yes!” she said. “Yes.”
“And you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t enjoy?” he pressed.
That seemed more problematic, as she was barely able to breathe at this point, but she managed another shaky “yes.”
“Good. Then otherwise, roll with it. I’ll stop when I’m ready to stop.”
Nicki’s half laugh ended on a choke as Stefan’s tongue snaked out to the key points on the map that he’d clearly already learned by heart. He stroked her long and deep and then flicked her tight nub, alternating between the sensations until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The second she got her bearings however, he moved one millimeter over, and a sudden rush of sensation crashed over her.
“Stefan!” she gasped, and something in her voice must have tipped him off that she wasn’t about to tell him to stop, and his entire body stilled except his head, his mouth, the effect of him focusing so intently on her pleasure starting the long, delirious, inevitable slide toward orgasm.
Her legs seized first, spasming quickly together but blocked by the obstruction of his body. Nevertheless, she locked down against him, his grunt of surprise lost as the maelstrom built within her. He didn’t move from his focused position, however, didn’t give her any relief, and instead redoubled his efforts, somehow missing the growing tide of urgency as she whimpered inarticulate words, unwilling to tell him to stop but unable to keep herself from catapulting into the churning roil of sensations.
And then she was over the edge and her body fairly jackknifed in the bed, the violence of her orgasm bouncing her up and back again as her hands sought Stefan’s shoulders and she tried to push him away and pull him close simultaneously, her fingers so weak that she could gain no purchase to do anything. She gasped his name again as her entire body went rigid, before one final, explosive convulsion made her sight go bright white for one heartbeat—then two.
The best climax of her life, bar none.
“My God,” she moaned as her legs fell open, leaving Stefan to trail a swirling line of kisses toward her knee.
He finally lifted his face to regard her, and she blinked at him, dazedly.
“That,” he said, “makes me feel so much better.”
Stefan reveled in Nicki’s contented sigh as he moved back up her body, retracing his path with his hands and his mouth until he was once more face to face with her. Her lips were full and open, her eyes nearly glazed. And when he pushed at her gently, urging her legs open once more, she complied with another deeply contented sigh.
He took that as a resounding yes to his next stage of the operation.
Leaning forward, his questing fingers found the other item he’d carried over on the tray. He slid the foil packet off the nightstand and sat back on his heels as Nicki watched, her eyes now wide and fascinated. He knew she’d watched a man sheathe himself before, so her interest wasn’t in the generic act—but the fact that it was his cock being readied to enter her, his shaft accepting the tight constriction of protection. She watched as he leaned back over her, caging her in, but her expression held a curious mix of delight and excitement—the best combination he’d ever seen on any woman, ever.
Mentally berating himself to maintain control, he nudged between Nicki’s legs with unerring precision. Her deep moan of approval did nothing to help his iron lock on his own reactions, and as he found her center and pushed in, he gritted his teeth against the sudden shock of wet heat surrounding him.
“Oh…my,” Nicki muttered, and he blinked his eyes open, unaware that he’d closed them. Nicki apparently had been suffering the same level of eyestrain, because her lids remained resolutely shut, her mouth opening a tiny “o” of pleasure as he pushed in another quarter inch, allowing her body to get used to his sensual intrusion. He could feel the moment she relaxed, welcoming him in deeper. He pressed into her in one long slide, watching as her eyelids fluttered open, her unfocused eyes a mixture of pleasure, satisfaction and new, deeper need.
His favorite combination.
“Ah,” she sighed as he slid home, her body moving with his as he rocked into her, finding the pace that fit her natural rhythm beat for beat. She shifted with him, angling her knees up so he could sink even more deeply inside her, reveling in the new sensations that shuddered through him at the intimate access to her body. She was unbelievably tight, surrounding him with wet heat, and every muscle on her upper body was pulled taut as she stretched up to meet his. Sex with Nicki Clark clearly wasn’t going to be a relaxing activity—ever. At least not until after they’d both reached orgasm more than once.
Stefan could practically feel his eyes dilate at the thought of bringing Nicki to the brink again. And again.
He plunged deeper into her and something in her manner gave way, her body suddenly going nearly limp beneath him as she breathed out a long, gratified moan. Her surrender pushed him inexorably closer to that goal. She stretched out beneath him languorously, allowing him to sink further still, and her eyes fluttered open.
In that moment, he realized he had never known anyone like this woman. Her masks—and there were multiple ones he realized in a flash of clarity—had fallen away, and there was nothing left in her expression but an aching, raw need.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, and Nicki’s lips twitched into a smile, her neck arching to meet him as he bent toward her. She offered up her kiss as a benediction, and he drank in her absolution, unsure of why she was blessing him, but knowing that he craved it more than air. At the touch of her lips a renewed strength poured through him, lighting his blood on fire. Then one of her hands came up and slid behind his neck, another over her shoulders, and she broke his braced-arm position and dragged him down to her body, so they were fused together, inch by perfect inch.
Nicki ran her hands down his back, pressing the heels of her hands into his muscles until her fingers reached the curve of his ass. She panned her hands wide and pulled him in as she surged forward, actively stroking him with her body, her hand, her mouth all at once. The combination of pressures built within him an impossible force, and he grit his teeth to maintain his concentration. He was not going to give up this sensual assault anytime soon, not even for the unbearable pleasure he knew that release would afford him.
Then Nicki was pushing against him, her leg lifting to brace against the bed. “Roll over, you big ox,” she muttered and he did so willingly, their bodies separating for a head-clearing moment until she was on top of him again, her legs straddling his hips, her hands on his chest as her breasts swayed forward, tantalizingly out of reach. She didn’t give him much chance to recover as she positioned herself over him, her toned legs taut as she took him into her body again, only a bare inch, then slid free.
“Nicki,” Stefan growled.
“What, you don’t like to play?” she teased. “All that racing we’ve done, the swim competition, the climbing—you can’t tell me that’s true.”
As she spoke she dropped down further over him, her abs knotting to hold her position for a bare moment before she slid up to the tip of his shaft again.
Stefan glared at her as she continued the sensual assault, sliding up and down with a disruptive rhythm, clearly enjoying herself as she teased him. All the while her efforts had the exact opposite of what he was sure she intended. She wasn’t slowing him down, not at all. She was driving him to a fevered pitch.
“Nicki,” he managed and she finally sank home, clenching around him as she swayed forward.
“Better?” she asked, and he grimaced, but his gaze was filled with her. Her beautiful red gold hair cascaded around her shoulders. Her hands were positioned on his chest to frame her small, rounded breasts. Her face now angled down as well, her eyes lidded, her mouth slightly open as she rocked into him, focusing intently on his face.
Stefan pulsed up to meet her. Her breasts swayed into reach, and he leaned up, drifting his mouth across one soft globe as Nicki sighed. His hand came up and around her back, anchoring her to him, g
iving him greater access to one, then the other breast. He leaned back and drew her down closer, drawing her face to his as he settled back on the pillows.
“Kiss me,” he whispered again, and she smiled, the pressure of her driving down on his cock an intense counterpoint to her soft expression.
“Okay,” she said quietly. The touch of her on his lips sent him spiraling upward faster than he would have expected, and though Nicki pulled away, he found himself already at the brink. She seemed to realize it too, because her movements became steadier, more intense, and her eyes were bright as she focused on his face.
A tide surged within Stefan, and he fixed on her face as well, wanting to memorize every detail, every nuance, as if all of this might be a dream that he was on the verge of waking up from, and he couldn’t bear to let it end.
When he reached his climax he nearly shouted, an almost soundless battle cry, but it reverberated through Nicki and into the air around them, joining them together note for note, pulse for pulse. Nicki rode out his orgasm, her hands tight on his chest, her gaze intent, and there was no denying the smile that spread across her face as she watched him lose control. Then she was the one rolling off him, and grabbing the towel from the nightstand she tossed it his way before wheeling away.
“Hey—”
“You about broke me. Quiet,” she snapped, the laughter in her voice lightening his mood further as she retreated to the bathroom. He sank back into the bed, his hand lifting to massage his jaw. He’d never smiled more in his life than in the days since he’d met Nicki Clark.
She was back moments later, piling into bed with him, her gaze searching his face as she forgot her hesitation for a moment. He didn’t let her recover it, instead reaching out and pulling her against him.
“That was amazing—and you are amazing,” he said, his chest quaking as she laughed against his body.
“I think you’ve shunted off a ton of adrenaline. A good thing for the mission.”
“And for that I’m intensely grateful. I’ll note it in the report.”
She burrowed a little more closely in his arms, as if she was born for his embrace. “Appreciated, sir,” she said.
He leaned close to brush his lips against her hair, and held her tight.
Chapter Nine
Nicki woke with a start, her body dwarfed by the enormous bed. She blinked, but she knew where she was. It wasn’t a dream, despite the fact that she hadn’t woken up in a room as tidy as this since she’d shared college dorm rooms with Emmaline.
In fact—the room looked too clean. Almost swept.
She moved up against the pillows. The bed was cool beside her. Stefan had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around her, but he clearly hadn’t been there for the whole night. The dinner dishes on the table outside were gone, the wine taken away and glasses removed. The glasses on the nightstand had vanished as well. There was no evidence that Stefan had remained there, she realized. No visible clothing, no drawers left askew, nothing out of place on the tables. Even the remote for the TV was in its holder.
Had he abandoned the room in the middle of the night, a wolf gnawing off its own leg to get out of a trap?
“You slept well?”
“Oh!” Nicki’s pulse jacked as she turned to see Stefan leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. He was freshly showered, his hair slicked back carefully over his brow, his body draped in a low slung towel. Nicki’s gaze dropped to his damp chest with its scatter of fine hair—and then it dropped further, following the trail as it pointed down his abs to his groin.
As she watched, the towel dropped to the floor.
Stefan didn’t give her a chance to react as he strode quickly across the room, climbing up on the bed until his shower-damp body flattened her to the sheets. His head dipped toward her and she squirmed to the side. “No!” she laughed. “Stop it, I need to fix my—”
“You don’t,” Stefan murmured, following the angle of her head until she surrendered and allowed him to kiss her. He kissed her mouth, her brow, and followed the line of her head and neck until he reached her outer shoulder. “You are as perfect this morning as you were last night.”
She turned beneath him, staring up at his impossibly chiseled face. “You can cut that out, you know. We’ve had sex.”
It was his turn to frown. “Cut what out?”
“The chivalry thing. I mean—it’s nice, don’t get me wrong. But it’s totally unnecessary. And it has to be exhausting.” Despite her best intention to stay focused, she was distracted by the curve of Stefan’s hard pecs and the tension in his biceps as he held himself above her, giving her space. Whatever, it allowed her to focus on his chest, not his face.
“I’ve broken my right leg and my left arm—here—” she pointed out the scars, clearly visible in the morning light, no matter how filtered it was through the French doors. “I cracked myself in the head when I was twenty falling off a monument and they glued my eyebrow back together—here.” She traced the line along her right eyebrow. I have a high hamstring tear that kicks up when I sprint if I don’t stretch out, and when I don’t have my nails manicured, I have a tendency to rip them down to the quick.”
She stared back at Stefan’s face, resolution firming her words as a smile played about his lips. “All I’m saying is, I’m not perfect. I know I’m not perfect. You don’t have to use that word.”
“Noted.” Slowly, tenderly, he dipped his head—not to her mouth, but to the hairline scar she’d pointed out on her brow. “But this—this scar you received while being careless on a monument… you were careless, I suspect?”
“I was the worst. I didn’t know my limits.”
“Ah.” He drifted his mouth along her brow, the movement sending a thrill down her spine. “This scar is perfect, because it’s yours. Because you received it doing something that only you would have done.”
“Mm.” Nicki fought to follow his words as his mouth drifted down to her shoulder, her arm. “I wasn’t the only idiot up there that day.”
“And this—your arm was reset after—what?”
“Snowboarding accident, spring break in the Rockies,” she said automatically, sucking in a breath as he traced the old scar with his tongue. “I was totally not being an idiot then. The course was well marked, but there was a snow ghost—tree buried under a drift—they hadn’t gotten to. I veered too high in a turn, got incredible air—but when I came down I was right on top of the thing.” Her eyes drifted shut. “I didn’t stop though. No one knew how bad I was injured until we got to the bottom of the mountain. Not even me.”
“I’m not surprised.” Stefan transferred his attention to her thigh, where the angry whorls of her pin scars stood white against the dark tan of her skin. “The leg, was it also snowboarding?”
“Bike—hit by a car on campus, old lady visiting her…ohh…” Stefan put his hands on either side of her thigh, the pressure of his palms steady as he massaged the muscles around the long ago injury with a sure, strong touch. His fingers dug into the knots of her thighs, knots she didn’t know she had, and Nicki flopped back, suddenly feeling oxygen-deprived.
“My God. You should take that act on tour,” she groaned.
“I suspect this is the same leg with the hamstring tear?”
She could barely make out his words as pleasure crested within her. She’d known she’d needed a massage, but she’d never imagined it could be so electrifying. She didn’t complain as his hands firmed on her body, easing her first to her side, then her stomach, his large hands transferring their pressure to her back. He stroked long and firm, and when he got to the curve of her ass, she belatedly realized she was still naked, and he was—
“Hey—” she spluttered, half rising from the bed.
“Humor me,” he said, pushing her back down with the flat of his hand. Then both hands returned to her glutes. “Your left leg, right?”
“Yes but—ow!” she went rigid again as he pressed two fingers in a sharp, deep line down the curve of
her upper thigh, the muscle spasming beneath his touch for a harrowing moment, driving all thoughts of pleasure from her mind. “That hurts!”
“It won’t in a moment. Endure it,” he said, his voice low but absolute. He stroked again, more deeply, and Nicki ground her hands into the sheets, tightening them into fists around the luxurious fabric. She tried to scoot away and he restrained her, talking low as she gasped and panted.
“Relax,” Stefan growled. “You’re doing yourself no favors fighting me.”
She snorted. “Spoken as someone who always wins—ouch! Enough!”
“For the moment,” he said, the pressure of his hand changing to the broad flat of his palm as he pressed up with more general force into the intersection of her hamstring and glute. The warmed muscle tightened then gave way, and a spiral of pleasure radiated outward as Stefan continued the deep massage. He chuckled as Nicki groaned into the sheets once more.
“That’s so much better,” she managed on a sigh.
“It would not be so, without the pain. As you more than most should know.”
She was too aroused to be wary, but fear pricked in the back of her mind. What did he mean by that? What did he know?
“You think so?” she managed.
“Don’t tense up.” He brought his hands down both legs, and shifted them slightly wider. When his long, brushing strokes moved back up, they fluttered between her legs.
Despite his admonition, tensing is exactly what Nicki did.
“Hey—” she managed, but the combination of the deep tissue massage and this new, arousing pressure was too much for her brain to process. She let her legs fall naturally wider, accepting more of his touch as his laughter rumbled low in his throat.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, dipping his fingers into her to verify. The touch of him woke up nerve endings that had barely recovered from the night before, but the endorphins from the massage overrode any complaint, and need erupted within her with each of his lazy strokes. He dipped into her again, pressing up against the slick skin, and she moaned into the sheets.
Claimed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 3 Page 8
