Something vague in his mind told him they were crème colored, like the bra now straining to contain her breasts. Did girls coordinate that kind of thing? Thirteen years later and he still knew little how girls’ minds worked. But he’d spent a lot of time learning about one in particular.
His palm moved up her spine while she devastated his senses with kiss after kiss, their breathing filling the room and making their bodies ache for more. Deft fingers popped the slim hooks in the center of her back before he rolled against the bed, taking her body over his and giving him two hands to stroke and arouse.
Vianne decided she definitely not only liked the way he kissed, the teasing flick of his tongue and occasional take-charge thrust, but she was getting too hot just touching him. Strong and broad shouldered. She could easily picture him on a surf board. She rotated her hips, stroking over the very hard length of him, her legs stretched down his, another glimpse of him on the surf board, muscled thighs clenched beneath hers.
His dark eyes opened when the mouth devouring his was suddenly removed. It had been ages since he’d spent time just having a make-out session but he knew he’d always want to repeat it again and again with Vianne. He had been focused on the dreamy, sexy expression on her face. Until the – while sexy and alluring - piece of lace and nylon made an attempt to hold her breasts in place fell down her arms. He almost laughed when she looked momentarily annoyed, taking it in one hand and dropping it to the side.
Now he was distracted again.
“See something you like?” Vianne let her legs split and straddled him, her palms on a very solid, flexing muscled stomach as she levered herself upright. Things were only a little…unbalanced…yeah, that was a good word for it. Spinning was another good word, she thought briefly.
Very briefly, considering he now had one palm wrapped around each of her breasts and oh, man, what his thumbs could do all on their own was making the spinning seem tame.
Her back arched, pressing herself deeper into his hands as the low, needy moan whispering from her lips. Pale brows knit, lashes open just enough and the soft pants making him harder.
“Tanner…”
Chapter Twenty
“Are you close, Vianne? I can feel your body tightening.” He continued stroking and pulling on the taut nipple, the other palm sliding down the taut stomach and inside the now damp center of her panties. Her scent struck him hard, his own need thrusting and throbbing between her thighs.
She knew the question should have made her stop and think. No one had ever asked if she was close…talking during sex…what a concept.
Vianne felt his fingers stroking between the swollen labia, spreading the damp heat and pressing hard against her clit. Hard enough that her body gave a sharp response, his name echoed in the room. She pushed her hips into his hand again and again, the tremors hard and fast as they swept through her system. Her hands each gripped one of his wrists, clinging tightly when the eruption burst free with a power that stunned her. She was used to mild pops; quiet easy waves.
This was far from easy and decidedly not quiet.
His name echoed around the room followed by several prayers until her nails bit into his wrists, her chest heaving and breaths uneven. Vianne leaned forward, taking his mouth hungrily as she reached for the packets on the nightstand. She slid her body to the side, her hands pressing his to the bed before returning to peel his boxers down enough that she could stroke his cock.
Hardened flesh slid through one hand while the other held the condom. Vianne swallowed the harsh growl from Tanner as she let her palm explore him, fingers teasing the ridge and stroking down to the thick base. She felt the tautness in the full sacks, her nails scratching over the ripples and beneath to tease and arouse.
Tanner thrust both hands into her hair, holding her mouth in place while she stroked and somehow managed to make him even harder. He wasn’t sure where the control had gone and was even less concerned that it existed at all.
Vianne was in his arms! In his bed and hungry for him!
He’d learned so much about her through their correspondence. So much more than even his teenage infatuation could have dreamed. Something in his nature had known she was his long ago and he’d been patient enough to wait until the time was right for them both.
Tanner felt the condom snap into place and groaned as she slid her leg over him. Two groans filled the steamy room when she positioned herself to slide down his cock, still holding him outside and letting him stroke through the hot, wet center. She coated him, marking him with her essence before arching her hips just enough to feel the blunted tip at the small opening.
Vianne knew he was a little on the large side.
She also knew it had been a damn long dry spell between her efforts to find a relationship that didn’t bite. Right now, all she wanted was him. Deep inside her and moving her body against that hard length. Even with the fuzzy feelings from the champagne, she could feel the currents rippling inside her. Again. And that was so totally new to her, she wasn’t about to let it get away!
Fuck, she was tight!
Tanner ground his teeth, his hands sliding to her shoulders and lifting her, holding her in place while she continued to rotate and slide over the soft, blunt head. She took just enough of him to let the ridge around the head quiver past the tight muscles. Just enough to make his hands clench and body threaten to disown him if he didn’t do something.
“Vianne…god, baby…you’re tight…and you’re killing my control…”
She liked the hard, gruff need in his voice and took a little more of him inside. Slow and steady, he glided deeper and her breathing quickened. Again, her femininity shouted! She could feel him moving inside, slowly teasing and stretching.
“Tanner…”
“Alright, Vianne?” He felt his body screaming and clamped down hard on the urge to thrust. Not yet, he told himself. Hurting her was never, ever going to happen.
“Yes…no…no…oh, god, yes…but I…oh god…” Vianne lost the track, the shimmering pulses that had been threatening burst free, carrying her up and over and adding more hot moisture to the mix. Her body clamped down hard on him at the same time she thrust down, breaking his hold and shattering their senses.
She didn’t see the combination of shock and unbridled passion when her body pulled him deeper, the silken walls gripping and twisting, taking a hold on him that left him breathless and soaring with her a scant few minutes later. She felt his hands, large and firm on her hips, trying to hold her still even as his own hips thrust up, hard and repeatedly until the low guttural sound of her name exploded with his climax.
She felt the long strength in each pulsing eruption; felt the throbbing of his cock in the slowing clutches that continued to squeeze him as they faded. Much slower than normal, she realized because each move he made, each time his cock pulsed inside her, another ripple of pleasure shot through her. Vianne figured the only reason it stopped was because both of them finally simply collapsed, drained of energy.
“When I get some strength back, I’m going to ask what the yes no thing was about,” Tanner ran his hands down the slender arc of her back and onto her hips, groaning anew when her muscles tightened around him. “Christ, woman…” his teeth snapped together seconds before he bucked beneath her, sending her to the side and onto the bed. He was back joining her a few minutes later, crawling beneath the heavy, cool sheets. His hand snaked around her middle and pulled her back to spoon with him.
“I’m sure there’s some rule about asking a woman to explain the gibberish that strikes when she’s in the throes of passion,” Vianne drifted between sleep and awake. The cynical side of her nature informed her that the last several hours were some kind of stress induced fantasy. Yes, good explanation.
“Throes of passion,” Tanner chuckled against her neck, his tongue trailing a path down the slender column to her shoulder. “Makes it sound so…”
“Sterile?” She chuckled with him, her nose wrinkled until his te
eth nipped a soft spot where her shoulder met her throat. “Oh, my…”
“Hmmm…this shows promise,” he continued nibbling, the heavy weight of his cock pressing against her ass. Oh, it had gone down. And sprang right back the instant her body curved back against his.
“Erika was right, you know,” Vianne whispered in the stillness.
“This sounds serious,” he stopped kissing her shoulder, laying his head on the pillow and just inhaling their now well mingled scents.
“I know we spent months talking in emails…”
“But?”
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t…this isn’t me.”
“I think this is you, Vianne. You with me.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I think I know you more than you want to believe,” Tanner brought one palm up, gently pulling the barely shoulder length curls back from her face. “You have a pretty solid wall built around you, Vianne.”
“Usually,” she answered drowsily. “Usually…”
Tanner relaxed against her, listening to her breathing become deeper and slower. “And I’ll find out the reason as I take the bricks apart, Vianne,” he whispered before letting the darkness and absolute feeling of right take him into the night.
He had no idea when Vianne turned to him just how hot she could make him with her kiss, her touch. When she slid her damp center over him, her palms were pressed against his chest for balance and the lean, sultry woman astride him wiggled and stroked him without letting his cock slide inside her. It wasn’t until he growled and flipped her to the bed that she laughed, a soft genuine laugh.
Tanner saw the flashing hazel eyes teasing him when he took both her hands in his and pulled them above her head, one leg thrown over her to keep her from moving. Much. He lowered his mouth, sweeping a tongue around one pert nipple and was gratified with a low, soft moan. He caught her half open gaze, holding her attention without releasing her even as she twisted to be free.
“Hold still,” he whispered low, moving his mouth to the other breast and biting down just enough to get her attention. He heard the sharp gasp and saw the fire burst into her eyes. He knew enough about Vianne Summers to know she was always in control. Always in charge in every interview he’d watched of hers, and he’d watched them all.
But not tonight, Tanner decided. Not in their bed.
He trapped her legs, separating them with his foot and sliding himself in between her thighs. He wanted to touch. All of her. Every inch of the beauty that lay before him.
Every inch of his wife.
His palms began at her shoulders, caressing heavily over her breasts and taking them into his hands, thumbs stroking, fingers pinching and teasing before he stretched out and kissed her. Tanner groaned into her mouth, one hand sliding down her ribs, over the flat of her stomach and between the swollen petals, his fingers stroking over her clit, pressing down to pluck at the small nub of sensation.
Her body reached for his fingers as he teased and pressed heavily against the little pleasure point.
Vianne had gripped the base of the headboard out of desperation. Every nerve in her body was alive and it felt like it never had before. He touched her and sparks flew around from one pleasure point to another and every place he stroked had become infused with delicious pleasure. And she wanted more from him. A part of her fogged brain didn’t like being ordered around but for his touch, it was shoved aside.
“Soft, hot and wet,” Tanner murmured, two fingers gliding along the sweet moisture, her scent captivating him and pulling him deeper. Dark eyes held hers captive, watching the blaze of passion when he positioned himself and thrust, stroking deeply into her without pausing.
Both of them barely breathed for a long minute, her mouth open in a desperate effort to capture air that seemed to vanish around her. Her hands lifted, her chest rose and fell erratically, more pleasure crashing through her when his hands took hers and linked their fingers.
Then he moved.
No, she thought. He didn’t just move.
He took her with long, hard thrusts that touched every nerve ending inside her.
Tanner knew he wouldn’t last. Not with the hot silken walls threatening him, convulsing in solid, gripping punches that twisted around him and pulled him deeper. He saw her pleasure. He felt her body coil around him and explode, barely managing a few hard thrusts before his body lost to hers.
“Vianne,” he whispered against a damp throat, his voice low and husky. “You’re amazing. Deliciously sexy and amazing.”
Tanner slipped to the side and wrapped them both in the blankets, her head snuggled tightly against him, the fingers of one hand still locked together. He just couldn’t believe there was a better place to ever be at the moment.
Vianne woke slowly. No ringtones were sounding. No alarms were going off. She’d long ago trained herself to wake instantly only when certain sounds erupted in the room she slept in, signaling to her mind and body that something critical was happening that demanded her immediate attention. Usually an editor or producer who were ordering that she appear somewhere to handle a story at some ungodly hour in a place most people couldn’t pronounce.
It might be one of the reasons she’d given serious thought to the proposal from Logan Sheffield four months ago regarding the historical department he was establishing to document both Tacoma’s history and the progress of the reclamation. So much had already changed in almost two years that parts of the once industrial and marine city were unrecognizable. Add to that the fact that she had begun to realize how little she was enjoying running off to one corner of the world or another for a story.
She swore she heard voices. Low and steady, the sound of the door opening and closing had come before the voices. But she really did not want to move. Snuggled face down and almost in the center of the large, very comfortable bed, it was warm and only barely light outside. But then she started to realize the barely light part was because of the spring rain pelting the large windows.
Vianne clearly remembered last night. Her body still hummed with pleasure. Okay, she amended to herself. Most of the night she remembered. The ride from the airport was a little on the hazy side. But she did remember the quite fine champagne and the strong thighs of Tanner beneath her on the ride. Her toes curled and ass wiggled beneath the blankets.
Then the smell of fresh coffee broke into her reverie and the bed moved at the very bottom.
Tanner had been watching her the entire time he’d spoken to the waiter who brought up the large cart with the breakfast he’d ordered. He tipped the man and closed the door, turning the lock quietly. He’d spent too many years imagining Vianne Summers just where she was and now, this morning, began the strategy to keep her there. In his life and his.
His eyes stayed on the lithe form stretching beneath the blankets, her blond curls tousled and falling around her face, over her eyes as she pushed herself to sit in the center of the large bed. Somehow she held the blankets just above her breasts. He could see her legs bent beneath her in a W as she blinked and worked to orient herself.
Vianne raised one hand while the other held the blanket to her breasts. Fingers raked the unruly hair from her face, pale lashes blinking in an attempt to clear the drowsy feeling from inside her.
The bed was massive, she thought, getting her first clear look at the room they were in. The bed had four eight inch posts at each corner that swirled in shiny wood upward and formed the top bars that held a thick crème gauze that seemed to create a private little world around the expanse of the sheets and blankets.
Tanner didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more perfect in his life. The breath he’d taken was caught and locked for a long moment as he stared. Sleep tousled and soft; alluring and innocent all at the same time. All bundle inside a woman he knew had seen and been in some of the most horrific places on the planet.
Finally she seemed to settle, the blankets held up by holding her arms close to her body, her hands coming to rest o
n her lap. He lifted a large cup of coffee from the cart and offered it to her.
“I remember from our emails that no one should dare try and make you think without this,” Tanner held the cup until her hands lifted eagerly, wrapped around the hot cup and held it beneath her nose. He couldn’t stop the smile when she just breathed for a quiet minute before taking a sip.
Vianne opened her eyes as the bitter, dark liquid made its way through her system, her gaze going to the man. Then to the light that sparked off the silver band on his finger.
She choked on the next gulp of coffee.
“You’re married,” came the whispered statement, her voice shaking as her eyes went from the ring to his face. A face that smiled softly at her.
“I am,” he answered. He’d been bracing for this since he woke. “To you.”
The words slowly seemed to find definition inside her fogged brain.
“I…oh, no…” blond curls shook adamantly. “Oh…hell no…”
Tanner reached cautiously for her hand on the cup, took it in his and turned it so she could see the rings he’d placed there the night before.
“Oh, yes,” he corrected gently, carrying fingers that curled around his hand to his lips. “You don’t remember?”
“I…no. No. We were…for Erika…Zee…I…oh, god…” Snippets. Pictures of the night before flashed into her mind. Standing before a man and a woman nearby watching and smiling. The words repeated in her brain. The kiss. Oh, god, the kiss!
Tanner quickly took the coffee cup when the contents began to shake.
WindSwept Narrows: #22 Erika & Vianne Page 20
