Full Exposure: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance
Page 27
From the crazy winged butterfly in the sculpture’s hair—identical to the one on her hip—to the fists tightly clenched around the fanciful camera, this sculpture was her. It was a labor of love, Kevin’s testimony to his love for her. She’d have to be blind not to see it. And though she was stubborn and repressed and often rigid, she was definitely not blind.
Fear crawled through her. She couldn’t handle this, couldn’t handle the visible evidence of Kevin’s feelings for her. He wouldn’t have done this if he wasn’t serious, wouldn’t have put himself on display for the world to see if he didn’t mean it. Maybe that’s what scared her the most. Kevin wasn’t like so many of the artists she knew—falling in and out of love with each new model they used. He never let anyone get close, never opened himself up enough for others to see what really made him tick.
But he had with this piece. Everything he felt was obvious, laid open for even the least observant person to see. Oh God, what was she going to do? What was she going to do?
“Serena, cher? What do you think? Do you like it?”
“It’s—” Her voice broke. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Like you.” His arms came around her from behind and it was all she could do to stop herself from weeping. “I love you, Serena. It astounds me how much feeling I have inside of me for you.”
“Kevin—”
“No, you always stop me. Let me get this out.” He took her hand, laced his large, callused fingers with her own. “I hadn’t planned on doing this yet, hadn’t planned on doing it here. But somehow it seems perfect.”
She started to interrupt again, but he covered her mouth lightly with his other hand. “I know you, bebe. Whatever you think, whatever you’d hoped to hold back, know that I see it. I see the real you.”
He pulled her to him, turned her around so that her back was to his chest and her eyes were focused, once again, on his sculpture of her. “That’s the real you, Serena. Every bit of it.”
“No,” she shook her head, tried to push his hands away but his hold remained firm. “Kevin, you don’t know the real me. All the dark, disgusting parts. You can’t—”
He turned her toward him, cupped her face in his beloved hands while his beautiful blue eyes stared into hers. “I know you’re afraid. I know you’re raw inside. Who wouldn’t be after everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve had to live through? But you can do this. I know you can.”
“I’m a mess,” she protested, fear nearly strangling her with its frigid claws. “More now, I think, than when Sandra first died. I can’t do this. You can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what, Serena? Can’t want you? Can’t need you? Can’t love you more than I’ve ever loved another human being? Too late, cher. I already do. And I want to marry you. I want to build a life with you.”
Panic raced through her, a living, breathing entity shredding her insides until it was nearly impossible to breathe. Her head spun and the world went gray for the second time in as many days.
She bent over, braced her hands on her knees as she sucked in great gulps of air. Tried to find the words. Tried to find the courage to say what needed to be said. Kevin crouched beside her, reached to touch her but she backed away. If he touched her now, she’d be lost. And she couldn’t make this mistake, couldn’t let him throw his life away on someone who’d never be whole.
He reached for her again, but she knocked his hand away. She straightened slowly, not wanting to risk another bout of dizziness. Watched as Kevin did the same. His eyes were wary but his gaze was steady as he stared at her, taking in every emotion she didn’t have the strength to hide.
“Don’t do this, Kevin.”
“I have to.” His hands gripped her arms right above the elbow and lifted her onto her tiptoes. “Because you won’t.”
He kept his eyes opened and focused on hers as he slowly leaned down to kiss her. She’d expected it to be punishing, had prepared herself to taste his anger and hurt. But his lips caressed hers gently, his mouth tender as he slowly slipped his tongue between her lips. She should fight him, should turn him away—after all, she couldn’t give him what he wanted. But if this was it, if this was the last time she would ever kiss him, she wanted everything she could get.
Her arms crept around his neck as she eagerly pressed her body to his. His big arms wrapped around her, slid down to cup her ass and pull her against his erection. She spread her legs before she could stop herself, relished the sudden dampness of her panties as she rubbed herself against him. He thrust himself gently against her, increasing her need to fever pitch as his mouth continued to devour hers softly.
His tongue slid teasingly between her lips, tangled with hers before retreating, again and again, She moaned in frustration, pressing herself more firmly against him as her hands yanked his soft, well-worn T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. She wanted to touch him, needed to feel his body against her own. One more time.
Tears sprang to her eyes, rolled down her cheeks unheeded as she gave Kevin everything she had to give. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she had. With a sigh, she bit gently on his lower lip, relishing his answering groan. Loving how he backed her against the wall and thrust himself between her legs again and again.
His jeans were rough on her bare thighs but she barely felt them. Everything she had, everything she was, was focused on Kevin and this one perfect moment. Her hands worked their way up his back—his flesh was warm and toned, his muscles rippling with each movement he made. He smelled like Kevin—the scent of trees and rain and heat so familiar that her tears almost became full-fledged sobbing.
But she controlled herself, knowing that Kevin would stop if he felt her pain and conflict. And she wanted this, needed this one last time with him almost more than she needed to breathe. So she swallowed the sobs threatening to choke her and fought against the tears that continued to fall. She would love Kevin long enough and well enough to last her a lifetime. Because she had no other option.
She pulled slightly away from him, angled her body so that he was now the one braced against the wall. “Serena, it’s too soon. You’re still in pain—”
“Ssshh,” she cut him off, pulling his shirt over his head before he could stop her. “I love your body,” she murmured, trailing her lips teasingly over his heavily muscled chest. “So strong, so beautiful.” Her tongue darted out, teased his nipple once, twice, three times before moving on. “So responsive.”
He groaned, fisting his hands in her hair before he could stop himself. Serena smiled to herself and set about driving him wild—moving her mouth over every inch of his upper body. Kissing his neck, licking his chest, skimming over his nipples and his incredibly flat stomach. Her tongue circled his belly button, shimmied inside, and she laughed as he jumped.
She was wet, her body restless and aching for the pleasure it knew he could give. But she wanted this to be for him, needed desperately to give him just a little taste of what he’d given her. She traced her tongue over his belly button and down his happy trail, loving the raggedness of his breathing as she tasted the musky warmth of his skin.
She reached to pop his button and release his zipper, but Kevin’s hands covered hers as he sank down beside her. His eyes were hot, aroused, and extremely serious as they gazed into her own. “Don’t do this if you don’t mean it, Serena.” His hands tightened, squeezing her fingers nearly to the point of pain. “I couldn’t take it if this didn’t mean as much to you as it means to me.”
She tried to look away, but he lifted a hand to her chin, tilted her face until her eyes met his again. “I’m serious. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His midnight eyes searched hers desperately, looking for a truth she couldn’t hold back any longer. “Serena?”
“I love you, Kevin. I didn’t want to. Told myself it was infatuation, lust, obsession.” Her smile was sad. “It’s all of those things and more. I do love you, Kevin. I love you so much it hurts.”
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nbsp; His breath whooshed out before he could stop it and relief poured through him. Serena was meant for him, just as he was meant for her. And now she was his. Finally. He cupped her face in his hands, lowered his lips to hers before she could say another word. In that moment, nothing else mattered for him, nobody existed outside of the two of them. He knew she was afraid, knew she was vulnerable, and if it took the rest of his life, he would soothe those fears. He would make her trust in her love for him and in his for her.
His lips skimmed over her hair, down her cheek, across her eyes, and over her mouth. He tasted the saltiness of leftover tears, hating that he had made her cry. But it was okay now. Everything was okay because she was really, truly his.
“I need you, Serena. Mon coeur, mon amour, cher, I need you so much.”
He ripped at the brown polo shirt she wore, desperate to feel her skin against his. He hated these shirts and the long-sleeve oxford ones she wore so often. Drably colored, buttoned up to her neck, hiding as much of her skin as she possibly could. As he ripped it from her body and flung it halfway across the studio, he promised himself that he would buy her clothes that showed off her beauty, clothes that helped her see who she really was when all those tightly held emotions were let out.
He was hot and hurting, desperate for her in a way he’d never been before. He pushed her bra down, fastening his mouth on her breast and sucking as hard as he could. She screamed, arched against him, and rational thought ceased. Desire and desperation took over until all he could see or smell or feel was her. She filled every one of his senses, every corner of his mind, and he knew that he’d die if he couldn’t be inside her soon.
He reached under her skirt, ripped her panties away with one yank. She gasped even as she pushed against his hand. His lips raced over her stomach, sinking lower and lower until, finally, he could take her in his mouth. She screamed, her hands fisting in his hair as he thrust his tongue inside of her, licking, stroking, savoring the tangy sweetness that was the essence of Serena.
He pulled her clit into his mouth and rolled it gently between his teeth. She screamed again, louder and longer, as her first climax roared through her. But he wasn’t done yet, nowhere near it. He thrust his hands under her hips, lifted her so that she was sitting on him, her beautiful clit positioned directly above his mouth.
He’d been dying to try this, dying to have Serena above him while he kissed and licked his fill of her, his face buried beneath her thighs and her beautiful ass moving up and down on his chin. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he swirled his tongue around her clit, loving the little moans she couldn’t stop. But when he grabbed her hips to hold her in place, she squirmed away from him, laughing.
Before he could protest she’d turned around, balancing herself on her knees and elbows. She kept her gorgeous clit centered above his mouth, a move he was decidedly grateful for, but positioned herself so that she could go down on him as well. A move he was even more impressed with. Her lips closed around his aching cock and he moaned, thrusting helplessly against her mouth.
It took all of his self-control to keep from coming, and even then it was a close thing. He slid his tongue over her clit and between the plump, pink lips of her sex relishing the taste and smell of her even as she pulled him deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her tongue swirled over his cock as her lips moved slowly back and forth over him and he nearly whimpered.
He’d never done this before, never realized how incredibly arousing it was to go down on a woman while she went down on him. His every sense was on high alert, every nerve ending involved in the incredible, unending pleasure of Serena’s erotic lovemaking.
He increased the pressure of his tongue, sweeping it faster and harder against her clit, loving the feel of her lips doing the same. Her hips moved more and more quickly against him and he found himself thrusting against her with the same rhythm. Moans and strangled screams filled the air and he was hard-pressed to decide if they came from him or from her.
He thrust two fingers inside of her, relishing how tight and hot she was around him. He hooked his fingers, searching for her G-spot, was rewarded when she jerked against him, her mouth taking all of him. His climax boiled up and he tried desperately to hold it off until Serena was ready to come with him. But he was unprepared for her to reach under his balls and find the spot she had helped him discover only a couple of weeks before. She pressed her fingers firmly against it at the same time she swirled her tongue around his cock and he exploded, pouring himself into her mouth as he sucked desperately at her clit, his fingers flying over her G-spot again and again.
She shattered less than a second later, and he savored her contractions even as he pulsed inside of her. It was the longest, most intense orgasm of his life and as her hips jerked repeatedly against his mouth, he prayed it was the same for her. When her final tremors died away, he slowly pulled his fingers out, loving her low moan of protest. But he wanted, needed to hold her. Wanted to stare into her eyes as he told her how exciting, and moving, he’d found their lovemaking.
He smiled at himself, shocked at how much he’d changed since meeting Serena. The Ironman was gone, and in his place was a man so in love with his woman that she could melt him with a soft look or light touch. He should hate this new Kevin, should be shocked and astounded by how much of himself he’d given to another person. But he didn’t. In fact, he loved the freedom he had to be himself with her, loved the way he could tell her anything.
He turned her to face him, burying his head in her throat and soaking up the spicy cinnamon scent of her. Serena. His woman. “Serena, bebe, I—”
Her lips closed over his before he could tell her how much he loved her, how much she meant to him. Her tongue stroked his lightly, slipping in and out of his mouth with quick, sure strokes that aroused him all over again.
She pulled back and smiled into his eyes, “I know.” Her hand wandered down his belly to his cock, which, amazingly, sprung to life at the first, light touch of her hand. “You don’t actually think I’m finished with you, do you?” she asked, her fingers sliding up and down in a rhythm that had him arching off the floor.
He raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes gleaming wickedly as he reached a finger up to trace her lips. “Not even a little bit.”
Her lips curved and she reached for a condom. “Did I mention your stamina is just one of the many things I love about you?”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her down so that their lips met. Right before he showed her a few of the many, many things that he loved about her.
Chapter Nineteen
Serena examined the last batch of negatives of Kevin listlessly. It had been four days since she’d left him. Four days since she’d crept out of his studio while he slept, thrown her things into her suitcase and run away with his truck. She hadn’t planned on ending things like that—sneaking out without a word to him. But when he had fallen asleep after the most intense lovemaking of her life, she’d been left awake, staring at his statue of her. Left awake reliving every word he’d said to her. Left awake wondering how her life had spun so incredibly far out of her control.
And then she’d panicked. Running while he was asleep had seemed her only alternative—if she tried to leave when he was awake, she knew she’d never make it out the door. Not that he would keep her against her will, but when she was with him she didn’t have any willpower at all. Like all of her thoughts and feelings—everything that made her who she was—disappeared under the force of his desires.
Never in her life had she acted the way she acted with Kevin. Sure, she’d had lovers. And while she’d enjoyed having sex with them, she’d never craved it. They’d never been in her blood, had never inspired the lust and longing that Kevin could without even touching her. Her control evaporated and she was helpless, totally mesmerized by his magnetism and desires. It was that loss of control, that loss of self, that she feared most of all. That reminded her so much of Sandra right before she’d died.
Sandra
had given everything she was to Damien, had held nothing back. And he had killed her for it. If she’d been more suspicious of him, less susceptible to her own need for him, she might still be alive. But she’d surrendered herself willingly to the passion between them, ignoring Serena when she’d tried to warn her that it bordered on obsession. Now she was dead.
She was dead and Serena seemed destined to repeat her mistakes. Not that she thought for one second that Kevin would kill her—he was too gentle, too loving, to even contemplate such a thing. But her feelings for him were overwhelming, bordered on obsession of the most base kind. When she was away from him all she could think about was him. When they were together all she could think about was getting him inside of her as fast as possible.
It wasn’t normal. Admittedly, she’d never been in a serious relationship before—after Sandra she’d kept everything casual. But she’d never felt anything close to this with any of the men she’d seen before Kevin. Sex with them was pleasant, enjoyable, but certainly not mind-numbing. It was nothing like the soul-searing, body-tingling, explosive experience she had whenever Kevin put his hands anywhere near her.
And he loved her. She knew it, deep down, which is why four days after she’d left him she still couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for anything, even her work. The photos were due in four days and while she now had the negatives developed, she was no closer to organizing them than she’d been when she was out in the bayou.
The phone rang, but she made no move to answer it. It was probably Steve, calling to harass her about her photos for the gallery showing and she just couldn’t deal with him right now. Wishful thinking had her listening eagerly for the answering machine to pick up, hoping and praying that it was Kevin. But he hadn’t called in three days.