A Feast of You
Page 17
“Go to the master suite and get undressed.” His voice was soft but commanding, and I shivered with anticipation. “I want you naked, in the bed, waiting for me. Go. Now.” He released me, and his hot gaze never left my face.
I stumbled to my feet, struggling to free myself from the pull of desire between us. This was a desire unlike any I’d ever experienced, one that crackled and sparked with dark temptation.
I would submit to him. There was no question of it. I wasn’t certain I could have resisted if I’d wanted. I was too turned on, too trapped in this web of wanting. And when my fear at the raw sensuality on his face rippled, I pushed it down and reminded myself this was what William needed. I loved him. I would be there for him. I would give him what he needed, and maybe it would be just what I needed too. Maybe this was what we’d been building to all these weeks, what William had slowly been pushing me toward: a total and complete surrender.
My knees wobbled, but I managed to walk toward the stairs. I could feel William’s impatience, and I yanked my shirt over my head and dropped it on the first step. Still peeling off my clothes piece by piece, I kept walking, and I didn’t look back.
* * *
I lay on the bed, naked, when William pushed the door open. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze was predatory, animalistic as he shrugged out of his shirt. He stood beside the bed and said, “On your knees. Here.” He pointed to the floor in front of him. I rose, but not fast enough, because William barked, “Now. On your knees.”
My breathing hitched and a delicious warmth began smoldering in my lower belly. I fell to my knees before him and watched as he slid the zipper of his trousers down and kicked them off. His thick hardness was clearly outlined in his black boxer briefs. My mouth went instantly dry, and I licked my lips. William chuckled low. “That’s right. Get your mouth ready for me.”
He lowered the shorts, revealing his enormous erection. I reached for him, but William stepped away. “Hands behind your back.”
I looked up at him, confused.
“Hands behind your back,” he repeated softly. “And hold them there. No matter what. Don’t make me bind you, Catherine. I don’t trust myself tonight.”
I pulled my shaking hands behind my back and locked my fingers together.
William nodded. “That’s right. That’s the image I want. Open for me.” He stroked his shaft and moved to position himself in my mouth. I opened for him, watching his eyes darken to almost black as his engorged cock slid slowly past my lips.
“God, you feel so good,” he said, rolling his head back as he entered me. He slid out then in again. “Lick me,” he demanded. “Get me nice and slick.”
I licked him, sucked him, all the while keeping my hands behind me. I let him control my movements, control my mouth, and there was something heady and erotic about that. Finally, he looked down at me, his eyes so hooded I couldn’t read them. “Do you think you can take me?” He braced his legs apart and put his hands in my hair. “All of me?”
I nodded, unable to speak with my mouth full of his hot flesh.
“Good.” He pushed himself in deeper and deeper until he hit the back of my throat and I gagged, and then he pulled out. His cock was glistening and throbbing. I clutched my fingers tightly as he entered my mouth again, moving faster now, until my eyes started to water. Then his hands were in my hair, holding my head as he fucked my mouth deeper and deeper. My face was wet with the mixture of my tears and my spit, but I didn’t try to move away.
“That’s it, Catherine.” His voice was hoarse and strained as though he was barely holding on to his control. “Let me fuck that sexy mouth of yours.”
He seemed to swell as he talked, telling me how good I felt around him, how much he needed me. I didn’t know how much more I could take, and then he thrust hard, making me lose my breath and gag.
Suddenly he stopped and withdrew.
I sat back on my heels, my heart racing as I bowed my head and waited for William to tell me what to do next. The tears I’d been holding back trickled from behind my eyes, but I willed myself not to breakdown, not to say “rosé” and bring everything to a screeching halt.
“Catherine, look at me.” William’s voice was barely a whisper.
I looked up at him and watched as his face, which had been so fierce and so controlled just moments ago, completely crumbled.
“Oh fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
My tears started falling in earnest then, and before I could say anything, he was bending down and pulling me off of my knees and into his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said over and over again as he pulled me tightly to him, stroking me, nuzzling me, kissing me. “Oh fuck, I love you. I love you. I don’t know why the fuck I did that. Please, tell me I didn’t hurt you. Are you okay, baby? Please, tell me that I didn’t hurt you.” His voice was raw and desperate, which just made me cry harder.
“I’m okay,” I managed to say.
“Thank Christ,” William replied. “Wrap yourself around me, baby.”
I put my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. He was standing and we stayed like that for a while, me pretzeled around him and both of us trembling.
Finally, I looked up at him through my wet lashes. I was still shaking and my throat felt raw and used, my arms ached, and my knees burned from the hard wood of the floor. And despite it all, I still wanted him. I still wanted more.
I could feel his erection pressed against my sex and I was certain he could feel the heat radiating from my center in response.
“Let me love you, Catherine,” he begged hoarsely. “Please, let me love you.” He kissed me deeply then, using his soft lips and tongue to soothe away the hurt. He was remarkably gentle for a man who’d just had me so violently. He set me down on the bed and directed me to lay on my stomach.
“Stay down and be still, baby. Let me take care of you.”
I nodded, although it was doubtful he could see the gesture. And then there were feathery kisses and tender caresses everywhere, as William made his way down my body. He reached my lower back and covered it with hot kisses, then gave me a few playful nips on my ass. It tickled, and I laughed a little and that seemed to encourage him.
“There’s my beautiful girl.”
I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice.
He widened my legs, the heat of his body warming the skin of my thighs. His hands stroked my cheeks up and down, up and down, then he gently parted the seam of my ass. His finger traced the cleft, lightly caressing my opening. I couldn’t stop myself from tensing.
“Shh,” he said. “Relax. Just try to open for me.”
I tried to relax, but when he touched me again, I jumped. He didn’t press his finger in, but instead moved it in slow, steady circles. I’d never before felt the sensations he was giving me, and I spread my legs further, giving him more access. I must have moaned because he said softly. “Hang on, love.”
I felt the scratch of stubble on my bottom then as he kissed each cheek. His finger never stopped rimming me. A thin sheen of perspiration had broken out all over me and my clit was throbbing, though he hadn’t yet touched me there. Everything inside me was tightening and pulling in and I was going to come.
And then his finger was gone.
“Oh fuck, William,” I hissed. “Please, don’t stop.”
He parted my ass cheeks and licked down.
At first I was so surprised, that I made no sound, but when he licked up again, I couldn’t stop a moan from escaping. I moaned louder when I felt his tongue right on my tight opening. His touch was light and tentative at first, and then it was gone. But he was right there. I could feel him blowing on me, then his tongue was there, moving around in a slow, moist circle, then entering me just enough to give me a taste of pleasure before withdrawing to lick me again.
He went around and around until I was crying out for more, and then his tongue was replaced by a finger
gently pressing against me. I opened for him immediately, and his finger slipped inside. When he straightened, his thick erection brushed against my thigh.
“Christ, baby, you are so beautiful right now. I want you so much.” His finger moved in and out, filling me and causing me to rock back to keep him inside me.
“Please,” I panted. “Please.”
I felt another thick finger probing and then it was inside me too. My thighs were wet with my arousal as his thick fingers just kept sliding in and out, in and out. I could feel myself edging closer and closer to completely shattering.
“Fuuuuuuckkk,” I called out. My cry was guttural and ragged as the head of his cock slid through my folds to my slick entrance and he pushed into me with tantalizing slowness.
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe and push back against me.”
I did what William said and raised my hips a little, pushing back against him until he was fully seated inside me. I wondered for a split second if he could feel his own hot hardness. Both of my channels were full and even while we remained perfectly still, the waves of pleasure coursing through every part of my body were incredible, like nothing I’d ever felt before.
“You are so wet and hot, baby” William murmured. “I’m going to start to move now,” he groaned, sliding his cock in and out. “So fucking hot.”
He thrust a little harder, first with his cock, then with his fingers in my ass, alternating one with the other. I was pinned under him and there was nothing gentle about the way he was fucking me, yet I knew he loved me, knew the intensity that existed between us at this moment wouldn’t have been possible without that love.
I surrendered to it completely.
I couldn’t hold back my orgasm for much longer and William growled, “Not yet,” and thrust harder and deeper. Every pump moved my whole body, pounding me into the bed as he pounded my body. If he’d touched my clit or my nipples, I would have exploded, but he ignored them both. His whole effort was on my ass, on his fingers’ exploration alternating with the driving rhythm of his cock inside me. And then finally, finally, he swelled and his thick fingers pushed deep into my ass “Come, Catherine. Clench those muscles around me until it hurts.”
I came. I came so hard I screamed. And I kept coming, waves of pleasure crashing down on me until I didn’t know where one began and another ended. His fingers kept working me, bringing me higher and higher even as he emptied himself inside me.
Finally, William gently withdrew his fingers and his cock, then rolled me onto my back. “I so fucking love you. God, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He kissed me and pressed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes, his breathing ragged. Mine was ragged too, and the muscles of my legs were weak and trembling. We lay like that for a long time, my body still tingling, my mind still trying to wrap around what had just happened. T
Finally, I opened my eyes to look at William and saw his eyes were still closed, his chest steadily rising and falling. “William?”
No response. He was heavy on top of me and his breathing was thick. I pushed at his arm and squirmed out from under him. His head hit the pillow and then he turned on his side. He’d either passed out or was deeply asleep.
I stared down at him, and my stomach clenched. Now that we were no longer connected, I didn’t feel so good. My tears started again and I put my hands over my eyes. I didn’t know why I was crying, but I was wracked by sobs. My emotions were all over the place. I felt so vulnerable, so completely bare in a way I’d never been before. William was right next to me, yet I was trembling and so cold.
William murmured and stirred. His hand found mine, and he pulled me down beside him. His arms came around me, holding me close, wrapping me in the scent of him, the scent of us. His breath was warm on my ear. “I love you, Catherine,” he mumbled. My hair rustled as he spoke. “Please don’t leave me.”
I shook my head. I could never leave him. I snuggled into his warmth, into the safety of his arms, closed my eyes, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Seventeen
“I keep asking Hutch to let me borrow this baby for the Fourth of July,” Angela said, gesturing to the huge stainless steel box in front of us, which was billowing delicious-smelling plumes of smoke out its top. “I’d be the queen of the neighborhood.”
“This isn’t a grill. One wrong move, and you’d blow the entire block,” Hutch quipped.
Angela just smiled. “That’s when it’s helpful to have a husband who’s a firefighter. Your man like to grill, Catherine?”
“I’m sure he does,” I said. William loved to cook, but since I’d met him in January and our entire relationship had taken place in the winter months, I hadn’t had any opportunities to see him flipping burgers or cooking steaks on an open flame al fresco.
After the emotional turmoil of last night, it felt good to spend time with Hutch and Angela, making jokes and acting like my life was actually normal. I’d been smoking with them most of the afternoon in the cold back alley behind Morrison Hotel. That was, Hutch and Angela were using Hutch’s commercial-grade smoker to make Tasso, a spicy, peppery, pork shoulder that was a specialty of Southern Louisiana cuisine. Hutch was featuring Tasso in several of his dishes on the Sticky Fingers menu and, as he did with most things, he’d “fancied up” the dry rub he applied to the meat before it went into the smoker. I was thankful for the buffer all my layers provided against the noise of my rumbling belly. Even though he enjoyed feeding me, Hutch always seemed to leave me starving.
I lifted my camera and took a few shots of Hutch adjusting the smoker’s settings. It was about the size of a large refrigerator and had to be monitored carefully. Hutch had thrown a Canada Goose parka with a fur-trimmed hood over his usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. If it weren’t for the smoker, this could easily have been mistaken for a fashion shoot. Hot, tattooed model in designer garb? Hutch definitely looked the part. Edgy, industrial setting? Yes.
I liked taking shots of Hutch and Angela working together. The sous chef was decked in restaurant black-and-white checked pants, a puffy, purple Patagonia parka, and a warm winter hat. The two of them in their winter coats gave the shots a more personal look than those when they were inside and in uniform. This was Hutch and Angie having fun.
“It’s too bad I can’t capture the smell with the lens,” I said, lowering the camera. “I’m pretty sure my mouth has been watering for the past two hours.” A heady mixture of burning pecan wood chips and roasting meat permeated the air around us. If the Tasso tasted half as good as it smelled, Morrison Hotel would be sold out for months.
“I know,” Angela said. “Hutch has really outdone himself this time. I’m going to try and sneak a bit of this home for Nick. Can’t go wrong with smoked pork. He’ll be all over me the second I walk in the house. Him and the dog.”
Hutch and I laughed. I’d finished my work about thirty minutes earlier, but I’d hung around, taking extra shots here and there because it was fun to be with these two. After offering myself for service to William last night—and the manic results—my head was still reeling and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go back to the penthouse just yet. Hutch and I had an easy relationship. Things were simple and uncomplicated with him, and I genuinely liked him. Angela was a riot—I never knew what she’d say next. Plus, I loved taking “in the wild” shots and capturing the cooks’ joy as they did what they loved. So much of the past year had been filled with shots of inanimate apples or pears or asparagus. It was nice to capture people and action for a change. Or again.
“I’d better head in and whip the line cooks into shape. There’s still lots of prep work that needs to happen before we seat.” Angela glanced at Hutch. “Holler if you need me.”
He nodded and turned back to the smoker and adjusted the controls. I shoved my hands in my pockets and burrowed into my scarf. The shoot today had been fun, but I couldn’t stop thinking about William and last night. He’d been so completely devastated and he’d surprised me by th
e way he’d wanted to be consoled.
I won’t lose you.
My cheeks still heated when I thought about everything he’d done to make me his. I wished we’d talked about it this morning, but when he’d woken me up early to say goodbye, it had been obvious that he hadn’t wanted to talk—at all. I couldn’t decide if he’d been withdrawn or hung over. Or something else.
“You okay, Miss Catherine?” Hutch asked.
I blinked. “Oh, yeah.” I shook my head and tried to give Hutch a confident smile. Instead, I felt myself blush again.
“Yeah? You seem a million miles away.”
“Oh. Just...thinking.” I shrugged. It wasn’t like I could tell Hutch about the crazy sex William and I had had last night or how I was kind of weirded out by it.
“Uh-huh. Well, for the record, Mr. Lambourne should be putting a smile on your face, honey, not a scowl.”
“What?” I started. “He does. How did you know I was thinking about him?” I seriously hoped I wasn’t that transparent.
“Oh, I can always tell. I’ve had a lot of practice with that look.”
“What look?”
“The love look. The questioning look.”
“Really,” I said, folding my arms and leaning a hip against the table holding platters, various bottles of sauce, and tongs. Now I was intrigued—not to mention eager to turn the conversation away from me. I may have been confused, but Hutch was not the person I was ready to talk to about my relationship. “So, Mr. Morrison, are you the heartbreaker or the heartbreakee?”
He smiled, that easy smile that lit up his eyes. “I’ve been both.”
My brows shot up. “I’m surprised. It’s hard to see you as the one who gets hurt.”
“How do you see me then?” He’d stopped tending the meat and was looking directly at me. He was flirting, but there was also a hint of a challenge in his voice. I met his eyes.
“I bet you charm your way into a different girl’s panties every weekend. I know your type: total player.”
Hutch’s brows rose. “Player? I’m crushed.”