Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  Through it all, he still loved her.

  She’d been such a fool. How could she have allowed herself to deny his love or the strength he would freely give her?

  “Did you get sucked into the drain?” he asked. “I’m not good with radio silence.”

  Raising her face to the spray, she let the water wash her tears away. “Nope. I’m still here.”

  “Thank you for this.”

  “For what?” For acting like the cuckoo she’d assumed other people considered her.

  “For giving me permission to tell you how I feel about my wife,” he said, his voice ragged, husky and filled with so many unnamed emotions her heart ached.

  The curtain moved slightly. She turned her head away from the spray and no longer saw his silhouette.

  He’d tossed the ball in her court. But knowing Dante as she did, he’d done so with a clean conscience. He’d admitted to so many things, the grief he still harbored for their daughter, for their marriage…his love for her.

  She wanted his love and to openly love him in return. But could she go back and start over again? Could she move into their house and resume their marriage? Damn, she longed to be with him, but the house…it held too many memories.

  After shutting off the faucet, she reached for a towel. He’d said several times that he’d be willing to move. If he was still open to the idea, if they made progress on their relationship this weekend, maybe she’d broach the subject and find out exactly how much he was willing to sacrifice to save their marriage.

  Before she had them moving and back together, she needed to talk to him first. Face to face this time, rather than hiding behind a curtain as if she were the Great and Powerful Oz.

  She finished toweling off, then realized she’d left her bag on the bed. She’d been so infatuated with staring at Dante’s body, she’d forgotten about the stupid bag. No big deal. She picked up a brush from his travel kit and ran it through her hair, then wrapped the towel around her body.

  She’d grab the bag, bring it back to the bathroom, change and then sit him down and tell him—what? She loved him. That was a good start. She didn’t want a divorce. Yes, even better.

  From there, she’d wing it. Let their dialogue dictate the conversation.

  Nervous anticipation fluttered through her belly. Her hand trembled as she reached for the door knob. She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever and, at this stage, she was tired of hiding period. Her life had been unbalanced for too many years. She needed him to help her find that balance again. She needed the steadiness and stability his love could provide.

  She needed him.

  She turned the knob and stepped into the dimly lit room. He stood at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes on her, the shadows cast from the lamp in the corner made his expression unreadable. “I forgot my bag.” He’d put on a pair of jeans. He needed to put on a shirt, too. Dante’s chest, his big pecs, the dark dusting of hair that trailed along his muscled abs and into the waistband of his jeans would distract her and make carrying on a major heart to heart conversation impossible without her mind drifting to sex.

  He picked up the plastic bag and brought it over to her. The light spilling from the bathroom revealed what she hadn’t been able to see seconds ago—longing, desire, oh, God, the anguish and love swirling in the depths of his eyes. Awareness settled deep in her heart. Past memories collided with the present. He’d looked at her this way dozens of times since she’d left him, yet she’d been too blinded by her pain to allow herself to really see him. Regret curled through her chest and wrapped around her heart.

  Instead of taking the bag, she touched his clenched jaw. “I heard a rumor that someone has been talking about me behind my back.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think I set her straight and let her know that I don’t want anyone—not even you—talking about my wife that way.”

  She half-smiled. “Not even me?”

  He gripped her shoulders. “Especially not you.” His eyes moved over her face, as if he were seeing her for the first time in years. “I meant what I said.”

  “You won’t try to seduce me.”

  “I won’t try to bind you to me with sex,” he said, his grip becoming painful. “I do want always, but I can’t have that if you don’t want it, too. I can’t force you to love me back.”

  She couldn’t stop her chin from wobbling or the tears stinging her eyes. “No. You can’t force me, not when I never stopped loving you.”

  He gave her shoulders a rough shake. “Tell me what to do,” he demanded, his voice harsh, raw, his eyes predatory and fierce.

  Running both hands through his hair, she gripped his head. “Love me.”

  He crushed his lips against hers and ripped the towel from her body. When she gasped, his tongue slipped into her mouth. She met him, curled her tongue against his, savored his taste, the way her nipples pressed against the soft hair along his chest, the way he dragged his big hands down her back until he gripped her rear.

  He spread her cheeks and forced his thigh between her legs. The coarse texture of his jeans rubbed along her sex, spreading her, making her needy, greedy. She wanted more skin. Not losing contact with his lips, she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then shoved them over his lean hips. She groaned her disapproval when he tore his mouth away, but was quickly rewarded when he kicked off his jeans and pulled her against his naked body.

  Long and hard, his erection pressed against her stomach and made her crazy with desire. She couldn’t wait to have him inside her. Buried deep, connecting with her very essence. For now, she relished his demanding kiss and the familiar warmth of his body. It had been too long, and she suddenly couldn’t come up with a single reason why she’d spent years denying him and herself the love and pleasure they deserved.

  He gripped her bottom again, lifted her as if she weighed next to nothing and set her on the edge of the mattress. Moving her legs apart, he settled between them, leaned forward and slid his hand under her neck. “I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself ugly again,” he said, tightened his hold at the base of her neck. “Promise me.”

  With his naked body hovering over hers, she’d promise just about anything right now. “I promise.”

  He let go and touched her cheek, the caress gentle. “You’re beautiful to me.” Resting on his elbow, he palmed her breast, then bent and kissed her nipple. “I love everything about you.” He ran the tip of his tongue along the distended peak, then using her breast to pillow his cheek, he looked up at her. “Be sure about this, because once we start, I won’t stop. And I refuse to let you go again.”

  She pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to let me go.” Giving his hair a tug, she added, “Ever.”

  His gaze turned animalistic and belied the soft smile tilting his lips. “You have me so fucking hard,” he said, and tongued her nipple again. “But I have to taste you.” His mouth devoured her peak. Each suck and nip made her sex spasm with the need to be filled. She took his hand and shoved it toward her heat. When his fingers connected, when he pressed several inside, her head rolled back.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. When she did, he slid off her body and knelt on the floor. “Watch.” He pumped his fingers and, keeping his eyes locked on hers, curled his tongue around her clit.

  She sucked in a breath. “More.”

  His gaze went from animalistic to carnal. He pulled his fingers from her wetness, spread her lips and drove his tongue deep, thrusting as he had with his fingers. Over and over, he gave her more, but not what she wanted. He knew exactly what to do to make her come and he was avoiding her clit, drawing out the pleasure, heightening the anticipation. They hadn’t had sex in nearly a year. There was no need to draw anything out right now.

  Balancing on her elbow, she tugged at his hair again, directing his mouth to where she wanted it. Instead, he rested the crook of her knees on his shoulders, forcing her legs wider, until only the tips of her toes brushed the mattress. Wrapping his arms ar
ound her thighs, he took his fingers and spread her. Eyes still on hers, he touched her with the tip of his tongue, then sucked.

  Desire tugged and pulled at her sex. She groaned her approval and held his head in place. Encouraged him to continue. When he slipped several fingers inside again and began flicking his tongue against her clit, the utter pleasure, the decadence he created, coated her body with goose bumps, causing her breasts to swell and her nipples to grow painfully hard. She pinched and tugged them to alleviate the pain, but the movement only heightened her frustration. She needed to come. She needed the release he could give her.

  As if he sensed her frustration, he increased the speed of his tongue, honed in on her sweet spot, until her orgasm burst from within and radiated to every part of her body in wave after hedonistic wave of pure, euphoric bliss. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head, she tingled everywhere. Sheer satisfaction should have eased her desire, but it only sharpened it.

  She forced his mouth from her heat. “I need to taste you.”

  “Later.” He moved his knees to the edge of the bed, causing her legs to slide off his shoulders. “I have to be inside you,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes intense. Holding the base of his length, he kissed her sex with the head of his erection, then slowly, inch by inch, pressed inside her.

  Damn it, she didn’t want slow, and she certainly didn’t want gentle. Based on the tense cords of muscle lining his shoulders and neck, she suspected that he was trying his hardest to go easy. They hadn’t made love in a long time and she most certainly would be sore tomorrow. But that didn’t concern her, not now, not when his body promised to continue to give hers the sexual gratification she sought.

  She reached up and slung her arm over his shoulder, and gripped his tight ass with her free hand. Smoothing her palm along his rear, she loved the grooves his muscle created every time he rocked his hips. She pressed his ass, forcing him to go deeper, and when he pulled out slightly, she did it again. “Stop teasing me,” she said, bringing her mouth closer to his.

  Their breath mingled, just before he nipped her lip, then brushed his mouth along hers. “I’m trying to make love to you.”

  She gave his ass a light smack. “Try again later. I don’t want slow and gentle.”

  His eyes grew impossibly darker. “Good, because with the taste of you on my tongue I just want to fuck you.”

  Her sex flexed and gripped his arousal. “From behind?” she asked, hopeful. She loved that position, loved when he dominated her and allowed her to leave behind the control she normally coveted.

  With a jerk, Dante pulled out of her, then gripped her hips and forced her to her knees. God, he loved this woman. She knew what he craved and loved it as much as he did. He rubbed her ass, then slid his palm along her spine. When he reached her upper back, he pressed down. “I want your ass high in the air for me,” he said, his dick aching to be buried in her wetness. When she spread her arms forward on the bed, and did as he’d suggested, he guided himself into her heat.

  Damn, she was tight and scorching hot. As much as he wanted to pound himself into her, he didn’t want to hurt her. They had the room all night and he planned to take advantage of it, keep her naked, give her multiple orgasms.

  She rose to her elbows and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Dante, now,” she begged, the look in her eyes desperate, eager.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Pressing her bottom back, she forced him deeper. “I’m going to hurt you, if you don’t make good on your promise.”

  He gripped her hips and pulled out until only the head of his erection remained cocooned in her heat. “What promise was that?” he asked, knowing damned well what he’d said. But he loved it when she talked dirty. He loved when she let go and let her passion take over.

  A small, sexy smile curved her lips. “I thought you were going to fuck me. If you’re not up for it, maybe you should lie on the bed and I’ll climb on top of you and take care of it myself.”

  He instantly pictured her riding him, her breasts swaying, her nipples begging for his touch. They’d do that later, too.

  “No worries, baby,” he said, grasping a handful of her damp hair and giving it a gentle yank. “I’ll give us what we both need.” He slammed his dick into her heat. Smoothed his hand over her rounded bottom, then gave a cheek a soft slap.

  She hummed, dropped her head to the mattress and pushed her rear higher. “That’s it,” he murmured and gave her two more mild slaps. Her cheek grew slightly pink, and while tempted to take the love taps a little further, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. With his testicles brushing against her, the tight friction of her heat along with the sexy, throaty sounds she made, he was going to come. He couldn’t until she did first. He’d already tasted her orgasm, now he wanted to feel it grip his length.

  Palming her ass, he thrust harder, faster. “Touch yourself for me.”

  With the side of her face pressed against the bed, she reached beneath her. Instead of rubbing herself, the tips of her fingers grazed his testicles. He grunted, pulled out of her and flipped her on her back.

  She gasped and stared at him with wide eyes filled with passion and desire.

  “I’m not coming until you do.” With one quick thrust he entered her, then fell forward and used his elbows to keep from crushing her. “Come with me.”

  Shoving her hands through his hair, she brought their lips together and gave him a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues mated and danced, their breath became one. The hard tips of her breasts brushed along his chest. When she wrapped her legs around his back, he pushed off his elbows, pressed his palms on either side of her head and held himself above her.

  “So close,” she whispered on a ragged breath, and reached down.

  He followed her hand, watched with excitement as she rubbed herself. “That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

  She arched. Her legs tightened around his back. And when her sex gripped him, he lost total control. With a harsh groan he released himself inside her. Savoring the moment, the sense of utter completeness…the sense of finally coming home, he couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. He wanted to stay inside Jessica, buried deep, their bodies united. But his arms shook. Sated and anxious to hold her naked body against his, with reluctance he slipped free, then rolled to the side, taking her with him.

  She pressed her lips to his chest, then she snuggled against him, slowly running her fingers through his chest hair. He kissed the top of her head, searching for the right words to say, while avoiding questions he wasn’t sure he wanted her to answer. Did making love mean they were on the road to recovery? They’d had sex almost a year ago and that hadn’t changed their relationship. If anything, that hot, Sunday afternoon had put more distance between them and, for months afterward, Jessica had avoided him. Would that happen again?

  I never stopped loving you.

  He cradled her closer. She still loved him. Her words should give him security. The unabashed way she’d just given herself to him should, too. But he worried she might crawl back behind the fortress she’d built around herself and shut him out again. They were in a hotel room, six hours away from home, from the memories that had torn their marriage apart. Once they returned to Chicago, would the past and all that they’d lost send her running back to her apartment?

  “You’re making my head hurt,” she said against his chest.

  “I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? I can move and—”

  “Don’t you dare.” She laid her arm across his body and tossed her leg over his. “I’ve waited a long time to lay with you like this and I have no intention of leaving this bed anytime soon.” She shifted and looked up at him. “My head hurts from you thinking too much.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t realize my brain waves were so powerful.”

  “Because you did just give me several orgasms, I’ll indulge you on that one.” Her expression grew thoughtful. “You should be relaxed, not tense. Are you second-gues
sing what just happened?”

  He gripped her hip and pulled her on top of him until they were completely face-to-face. “Hell, no.”

  “Then why are you tense, and why are your powerful brain waves working overtime?” she asked, flattening her hand along his cheek until she cupped his jaw.

  Looking into her eyes, he realized he couldn’t lie to her, or even give her a variation of the truth. Not after the way she’d finally had the courage to open up to him. Now he had to have the courage to accept whatever answer she might give him.

  “We just had sex,” he said.

  A sultry smile played along her lips. “I know. I was there.”

  He grinned and relaxed a little. “You’re not making this easy on me.”

  Frowning, she said, “You do regret this.”

  “No, I’m worried you will—eventually.”

  Realization dawned in her eyes. “You’re wondering where this will leave us?”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “No, but I don’t have an answer for you.” She gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you. But I’m afraid of disappointing or hurting you more than I already have.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “The only thing that would disappoint or hurt me is if you didn’t give us a chance.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said with a catch to her breath. “Being without you has been one of the hardest things in my life. I don’t want a divorce and I don’t want to live separately anymore—I never did. But I’m scared of moving back into our house. She’s everywhere I look.”

  Sophia. Damn it. Why couldn’t she say their daughter’s name? “Then we’ll move.”