by Arden, Susan
Cynthia kissed Isabella goodnight. “I love you, baby doll.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.”
She gazed back at her daughter, the spitting image of Rob, and her heart struck a beat against the lump wedged in her throat. Cynthia then blew kisses across the room in an effort to postpone her inevitable departure.
“Time to go,” her cousin said, tugging her hand.
Carolina and Olga enfolded her in their arms, then scooted her out the door. She barely had time to kiss Isabella again before she was escorted to her car.
The drive over to the beach gave her time to think. She didn’t cherish the busy South Beach crowd but after a while she realized he lived on the part of the beach that was a mix of homes and condos. Up ahead, she spotted his home.
She pulled into his driveway, taken aback at the sight of a modern home with a stone wall around it. His yard was landscaped with palms and several tropical plants. A paved walkway and garden lights made her feel both welcomed and little remiss in what she’d believed he called home. Getting out of her car, she gasped at the sight of him.
“Sam…Cynthia?” His eyes widened as she stood in a dress that was no longer than a large T-shirt, if that. His gaze drifted downward all the way to her shoes, then bounced back toward her face.
Olga had told her that if she wanted to make him fold, she’d have to make him sweat. Cynthia remembered that sage advice and took this as her moment. She stretched out one leg, then the other, and walked slowly toward him, swinging her hair over her shoulder and swaying her hips from side to side.
“Hello,” she said, forcing herself to continue as though he were her prey, and not the other way around.
Contrary to what her cousins had said, Rob didn’t exactly fall at her feet. He gave her a cold, arched stare, as though he could see right through her tight-fitting masquerade, and the thought made her skin heat up. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he’d only let her come over just so he could tell her off. From his expression, she expected he’d let her have it at any moment. They were there alone, after all, with no Isabella to keep them civil.
“Better be careful on the walkway. Those shoes you insist on wearing are going to be the death of one of us someday.”
It was a strange remark, and she cocked her head, unable to understand if he meant she’d fall and knock him over on the way into his house. He held out his arm, a peace offering, and she grabbed hold. Hard muscles, the ones she’d admired the other night and years ago, rippled under her fingertips.
His hair was damp and combed back, and he’d dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Flip-flops had never looked so good; she’d forgotten that even his feet were beautiful. The image of them in bed flared up, and she wobbled on her ridiculously high, spiky heels. His arms encircled her, warmer than an electric blanket.
He released her as fast as he could, setting her aright, and grimaced. “Can you manage?”
His arm brushed her breast, and she exhaled at the sudden wave of pleasure that flitted across her skin. Opening the door, he stood back as far as he could on the porch, allowing her ample room to enter.
“Sorry. Guess you’re right about the shoes.”
He walked in back of her. “Oh, so you’re willing to admit I’m right about something.”
She turned and gasped from the unveiled fury in his expression. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head, and then the dam broke.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, if we’re talking feet. Way off thanks to you and damn your plans. I’m stunned by your actions so far. First, you make unilateral decisions about Isabella. Decisions that might negatively impact her way of thinking about herself—forever. Jesus Christ! I’m more…than upset. My attorney gave me the number of a child psychologist. A Dr. Milford. You and all your sermonizing about childcare books. I had a long talk with Dr. Milford. Do you realize how little thinking went into your deciding to raise my daughter alone? You and your family are selfish. You let your wounded pride stand in the way of what was best for Isabella, so don’t…”
He pointed a finger in her face, pausing as if to collect himself. “Don’t you dare try to lecture me on the welfare of my daughter. If you want a fight, if you think that just because your father has more money than God, that you can keep me from being a father to my child, then you’d better think again. I don’t know if I can ever get past what you’ve done or what you seem capable of doing anytime anyone thwarts your authority. I suspect you’ve inherited this need for malicious control from your father. That apple doesn’t fall far.”
His chest heaved, and he stared at her with a look of frustration that bordered on dislike. She halted just inside the doorway. Rob stood in front of her, blocking the exit She’d come here wary that he might want to do just this. Apparently, his vein of anger had yet to run dry. She didn’t know how to respond or where to start. The first thing—the only thing—she was certain of, he didn’t want her here. Once more, she was the unwanted person.
She attempted to squeeze by him, but he moved directly in front of her. The agitation in his gaze pinned her to the spot.
The space of the room condensed and words spilled from her mouth. “Do you mean there’s no way to mend our fences? That you’d prefer we didn’t see or speak to one another? Is that your best plan?” She faltered and did exactly what her cousins had made her promise she’d not do. Hot tears filled her eyes.
These last few days, her fears, his anger, everything she’d bottled up began to churn, and then there was no way she could get hold of herself. She pushed at him, which was ridiculous; she might as well try to move a brick wall with her bare hands.
“Let me out. Please, just let me go.” Her body trembled. She bit back sobbing. No, he’d not see her like that. Blindly, she turned, moving away from him, unaware of where she was going. But she moved forward. Away from him. Anywhere to get away from him.
His hands were on her, pulling her back against him. “No, Cynthia.”
Strong arms encircled her, moving around her, until she was face to face with him. Rob kissed her hair, kissed her temple, and continued sweeping his mouth across her skin, raining a thousand kisses over her face that he tilted up to him. He cupped her chin, softly pressing his mouth to her blubbering one. “Don’t cry. Please, Cynthia. I can take anything but your tears. I understand. We may need to work on getting to know each other, but I know what I feel.”
His hands were on her, squeezing and grasping while he lowered his head down to her, bringing his mouth over her lips in a violent, crushing kiss. His mouth claimed hers in a long, hard collision, reminiscent of the one they’d shared the first time.
She clung to him, entranced by his lips and the way his tongue thrust into her mouth. His body was fire, his mouth an inferno, and his tongue a flame that ignited her desire. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. His hands roamed up her arms and down her back. His caress was a command, and she moved against him recklessly. He had her pressed against a wall, his body covering hers, and still it was not enough. He peered down into her face, tenderly tracing a tear that dripped down her cheek.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice was hoarse and low. “Tell me, Cynthia. What do you want, showing up at my place, dressed like this?”
Her hand came up to his face. She ran her fingertips along his jaw, and she was tempted to kiss him again. “This is what I want.”
She stood up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his mouth. Leaping. She dove into him like a woman on fire and in need of a dousing. She drank his tongue and moaned against his lips. “Rob, please forgive me.”
“Cynthia, I’ve missed you. I was upset. We both lost it.”
They kissed each other again, and she lightly sucked his tongue; the vibration of yearning increased within her body. She ground her hips against him, riding up and over his erection. So turned on, she whimpered at the feel of his fingers lifting her dress, cupping her bottom, and squeezing her flesh.
“You’re absol
utely pushing me over a cliff,” he panted. His erection prodded between her legs, making her arch and dig her nails into his arms.
He tugged her hand down across his zipper and she rubbed, at first hesitantly, and then added more pressure with each of his groans. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock. She stared down at his erection, the glistening tip, and she sucked in her bottom lip, biting the center.
She sank down before him, needing him just as much as he needed her. He’d dominated her the last time, but now, she’d prove to him he wasn’t the only one who brandished pleasure. She held him, bringing his crown before her mouth. Slowly, she licked around his head, rubbing him against her tongue.
Rob positioned his hands on either side of her head, guiding her to him. “That’s it, baby.”
Taking him across her lips, she opened her mouth, tasting salt on her tongue, tasting him. So hard, and at the same time so smooth, so firm. “Mmm,” she moaned.
He shuddered, rocking his hips back and forth, bringing his cock deeper and farther back into her mouth. This act made her want to feel him buried inside her. The ache increased, and she squirmed as she sat on her heels. Increasing the pressure, she rimmed his crown, alternating from potent sucks to soft, teasing licks. Her nipples swelled into hardened peaks. She was about to come undone.
He lifted her up and crushed her mouth under his. His hands found her breasts, squeezing and pulling down the collar of her dress.
“Mine,” he whispered fiercely before taking the tip into his mouth. He thumbed one breast and scraped his teeth over the other.
Rob took her nipple into his mouth doing as she’d done. Alternating with rhythmic sucks and licks, he gently bit her nipple, and she gasped, a rush of pain and pleasure roiling from her breasts all the way down between her legs.
His hands lifted her dress, and he pressed his palm flat against her stomach, pushing his hand down without out stopping. Inside her panties, his fingers delved down between her legs, touching her. He moaned her name as he rubbed her folds. He circled a finger around her clit, a tight sensuous circle until she whimpered. “Rob, I’m so near.”
His eyes glittered in the semi-darkness of his living room. “Come to my bedroom.”
She all but nodded, and he tugged her down a hallway and through a doorway. The room was modern, done in whites and midnight gray. His bed was low to the floor on a platform. When she turned toward him, he was shirtless and about to remove his pants. She began to pull on the shoulder of her dress.
“Don’t you dare. I’m going to undress you.”
Naked, he crossed back to her. His muscles flexed and bunched in a sensuous rippling effect. His whole body amazed her. She spread her hands over his skin, enjoying his low groans. She bent down, grasping his erection in one hand while she licked his nipple. She licked over the puckering tight disc she teased with her tongue.
He wound his hands into her hair. “God, I want you.”
“How much?” she asked wantonly.
His cock twitched in her hand, and she stroked him, staring at the changes in his expression. He took hold of her wrists and brought her arms above her head. “So much I’d keep you captive here. I’d make you scream my name like the first time. Do you know how I’ve thought about that night? Jesus, you drove me insane for months. You’ll not disappear this time. I’ve dreamt of licking your pussy, sucking on you, and yes, hearing my name on your lips. I want to fuck you, to have you so tightly wrapped around me, squeezing the cum out of me. I’m insane with how hard you can make me come.” His power aroused her, and with his admission of her ability to bring him pleasure, she shuddered, on the brink of wild arousal.
She moved against him as he angled her face, his mouth hot on her lips, and demanding. He released her wrists and moved his hands over her body. There was an urgency in the kiss, in how he separated her lips and pulled her against him, clamping his hands on her hips. His cock pushed against her, a steel pipe nudging her belly. Each time he brushed his erection over her mound, she shuddered in pleasure and ache. He lifted her dress in one swift movement and brought it over her head. She stood before him in only heels, her bra, and panties.
“Turn around for me.” He twirled his finger, demonstrating what he wanted her to do.
Cynthia stepped back from him, keeping her gaze even with his, and she slowly began to turn, first one shoulder, and then she gave him her back. She turned her head, glancing over at him. “I’ve thought about you. Wished you were with me,” she whispered.
He was up against her, his erection slipping between her legs, and she rode him with just a flimsy piece of material separating them. The friction made the contact beyond erotic in how close they were, but not all the way there.
His fingers brushed across her back, unhooking her bra. He pushed the straps off her shoulders, kissing her neck, and suckling a point that made her back bow. She ground her bottom against him.
“Sweet Jesus, I want every part of you,” he said.
She felt his inhale of her hair, his hands spreading over her breasts. Plucking her nipples, she cried out, “Please.”
He spun her around to face him. His pupils were dilated and he picked her up as though she were nothing but a beach towel. Setting her down in the middle of the bed, he separated her legs. Desire spread over her skin like a wildfire ready to consume her.
He hesitated before moving in between them. “You won’t be needing these,” he murmured, pulling off her panties. One by one he removed her shoes, kissing her ankles, sucking and licking the skin of her calves. His warm breath caressed her as he kissed up between her thighs. He lowered his head, above her mound, his fingers tracing the seam of her slit, and she bucked against him.
“I’ve waited four years for this.” He scissored his fingers, rubbing her, forcing her stomach muscles to contract. She writhed as he blew lightly across her clit. He dragged his warm tongue from the bottom of her sex upward, flicking the tip across her gently, taking her clit between his teeth. She feathered her fingers on either side of his head and pressed against his mouth, moaning.
He held her and used his hands to steady her hips as he lowered his mouth, down upon her clit. He began nuzzling and licking her, dipping his tongue into her opening before he forcefully sucked her. In one instant, she felt the deep roll of a crest tighten, building upward, into a wall of pleasure, threatening to overturn her.
Thrusting his finger into her, she released, unable to hold back, and cried out. “Rob, that’s it. Keep doing that.”
“Come for me. Baby, let yourself come all for me.”
He kept up the rhythm of plunging and curling his finger, rubbing against the inside of her until she was clenching around his finger. In her release, a warm glow spread over her body, and she held on to him as the billowing pleasure spread. Rob eased up, and moved. He no longer had his face between her legs, but his well-muscled body.
His cock rimmed her opening, scattering the throbbing pleasure that surrounded her. He groaned and then pushed into her with one long, hard thrust. Rob pulled her up against him, so she was sitting with her legs wrapped around him. He positioned his cock, holding his shaft up against her. Forcefully, he began driving his shaft into her while pulling her downward, going deeper and further with each stroke.
“Baby, you feel amazing this way.” He moved his hips, while his arm held her in place. With one hard thrust, he buried his length fully inside her, so much harder and deeper than before, and he shattered her completely.
Cynthia pressed her forehead into his shoulder, holding back a moan of complete pleasure. His cock filled her, stretched her, and each time he lifted her up she cried out, coming down on him. Her muscles clenched around him. Squeezing.
Rob began moving her body, up and over his cock. He raised her hips, and then brought her down, thrusting deeper and more demanding. Each stroke had her coming undone. She whimpered, unable to stop the torrent of bliss.
She found herself tipping backward, and she tightened her h
old on his shoulders.
He chuckled, moving her until she was lying back on the mattress with him over her.
“I’ve got you. You’re all mine.” His cock embedded within her, he plunged again making her aware that he dominated her body.
He hovered, moving over her, and his hips rocked back and forth, giving her what she craved. Again he brought her to past the point of no return, and she gave in to him.
“Baby,” he said, shuddering, his body tensing, and then he yelled her name in release. “Cynthia.”
Chapter 13
They had ended up together at his place, where she’d spent the night. Neither one of them fell asleep for more than minutes at a time. It was as though they couldn’t get enough of each other. They made love all over his house, in ways she hadn’t even imagined existed.
Ever since he’d found out that she hadn’t had sex since that night, and she finally admitted that he’d been her first and only, he’d shadowed her like a man possessed.
On Sunday evening they were back at her house. She’d given him a key just as he gave her one to his house. This was moving so fast and neither one of them seemed to care. If this is what it took to compress almost four years into a couple of days, she’d forego a week of sleep. His mouth, his hands, his voice beguiled her.
Cynthia kissed him, sucking in the taste of his mouth. “If you’re not careful, Isabella will have a sibling before too long,” he teased.
“And if that happens?” She had wondered herself.
“I’d be out of my mind in joy. But I don’t want to force you into a position. Ever again. The next time we have a child, you’ll be prepared and supported. I’ll be right here, whether we decide Isabella will be our only child or one of a dozen.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.
The way he spoke, coupled with his ability to make her forget her own name with his mere presence, had her reeling.
Rob pushed his hips into her body. She clung to him, and he clasped her bottom, hauling her even closer into his hardness. She wanted him even more than the first time they’d been together and nearly as bad as the last time he’d made love to her.
