Angling down, he swept his tongue through my throbbing center.
On a growl, he jerked back, those eyes flashing like a red, violent storm. “Just what I thought. A sweet, juicy plum. I want to fucking tattoo the way you taste on my tongue. Or maybe I could just taste it every damned day.”
Quivers rocked my legs, and I was having trouble standing under the impact of his words. Under the impact of his touch as he continued to drive his fingers into me.
He watched as he did it, movements sure and strong and making my mind go numb.
“Your pussy is perfect. So wet. So wet for me. Aren’t you, Angel Girl? Have you been thinking about this? Dreaming about this? Me touching you?”
I wasn’t sure I was coherent enough to give him a response.
But I was nodding, whispering, “Yes. I close my eyes, and you’re the only thing I can see. I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you.”
“I’m going to make sure I keep it that way.”
A surprised cry jetted from my mouth when he dove in, his tongue lapping and licking and sucking as his fingers drove deep.
That fire I’d been dying in was doused in gasoline.
Consuming.
Incinerating.
I knew this man would leave me nothing but ash.
He pulled his fingers free, and I was crying out in some kind of despair. He only pulled me further from the wall, angling my leg so he could lick all the way back.
Tongue circling my most private places, a gasp of shock leaving me in an unfound sort of pleasure, the man never slowing to give me time to catch up before he fucked his tongue into my pussy and then moved back to assault my clit with little bites and long, toe-curling licks.
And I was going mad. Crazed with greed and lust, begging his name.
Pleasure binding and wrapping. Gathering fast.
“Ian . . . please . . . oh God . . . I can’t take it.”
He drove those two big fingers into my body, finding me, filling me, his aura and his presence and his gravity.
My back rocked against the wall, one foot barely touching the floor.
Ian holding me up.
Consuming me in a way I’d never been consumed.
Low, growling sounds were coming from his mouth and pulsing against the sweet, sweet spot that he greedily devoured.
The man pouring out that bliss all over my body.
It sizzled through my being, nerve endings alive, until I knew I was close to bursting.
Higher and higher where I rode the sharp, blinding edge of ecstasy.
He curled his fingers and sucked.
Light burst and the most intense pleasure streaked through my body, laying siege to every cell.
Shattering.
Splintering.
Fractures of myself spilling all over that no longer belonged to me.
I floated there, where he held me in his rapture, the man keeping me there.
Floating. Falling. Flying.
Everywhere in between.
“Ian.” It was a cry. A plea. A promise that I’d never felt anything more perfect than his mouth and hands on me.
That I’d never felt so connected to a man.
That I’d never wanted anything more.
That was until the man was pushing to his feet, straightening to his full height. He watched me with those darkened eyes as he stepped away to dig a condom out of a drawer in a cabinet five feet away.
That gaze never wavered as he returned, towering over me as he shrugged out of his pants and underwear.
They dropped to his ankles, and he kicked them free of his feet.
A shiver flashed across my skin, a blister of that ferocity.
The air heaved from my lungs.
The man stood there, completely bare.
So beautiful I could barely see.
That polished exterior stripped away and revealing every rough, raw inch that had been hidden underneath.
A mystery he was quickly writing on me.
He stroked his massive length. “This . . . are you prepared for this?”
“I’m not sure I could ever fully be prepared for you.” It was a mumbled confession that climbed into the dense air.
“Do you want it?” His question was nothing but a lure because my mouth went dry, and I tried to swallow.
“I want it . . . I want you. All of you.”
Something flashed through his expression, something deep and dark, as if he couldn’t make sense of what was happening between us any more than me.
A needy gasp parted my lips when he slowly rolled on the condom.
Stepping into the space that separated us, he reached out and pulled my sweater over my head.
“Sweet,” he mumbled almost incoherently, eyes sweeping my chest, before he dipped down to make quick work of my bra and slid the straps free.
Instantly, those palms were cupping my breasts, and chills were skating in a flashfire of need. He ran his thumbs over my nipples that instantly puckered into hard, pebbled peaks.
“Fuck . . . fantasies just didn’t do you justice, Grace. What it might be like to see you like this. Bare and trembling for me. It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
Raspy pants lifted from my lungs. “I couldn’t have even hoped to imagine what being with you would be like. You are the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
His mouth fell to my ear as he continued to stroke and flick my nipples. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m just getting started.”
And God, he was about to make good on that promise.
He carved out a space for himself between my thighs, his big penis pushing between us, the head of him hitting my belly button, the juts of his harsh breaths only spurring me on more.
Desperate to feel him. All of him.
I whimpered. “Please.”
The words he released were nothing but a growl. “I’m going to fuck you, Angel. Don’t ask for it soft.”
There was no hesitation left when he hoisted me from my feet and surged into me in one mind-bending thrust.
I might have blacked out right there.
This had to be a dream.
A fantasy.
Because the feel of him shouldn’t be possible. The way he stretched and filled, so huge I was gasping and clawing and trying to adjust.
Ian stilled, his hands shaking where he held me by the outsides of my thighs, his big body pinning mine to the wall. His chest heaved, his eyes wild like he’d slammed straight into shock.
“Perfect.” His throat bobbed when he swallowed, and he seemed to struggle to gather himself. “Fuck . . . you’re perfect. Angel Girl. Angel Girl. Tell me that tonight you are mine. You’re mine.”
There was something frantic about this command.
“I’m yours. Tonight, I’m yours.”
But I knew it was so much greater than that. That I hadn’t only given him tonight. I’d given him a piece of myself.
I’d never been so sure of it until he began to drive into me, slow drags out of my body that sent me reeling with shivers of pleasure, hard thrusts that took me so deep that a cry left me on each one.
Those fierce eyes pinned me just as fiercely as the thrust of his hips.
Measured. Hard. Possessive.
The air and his fucks and the intensity that swam and billowed and blew.
The man owning me where he held me in the power of his hands.
Those eyes flicked all over my face, searching, knowing, this feeling coming over me that I’d never been so close to someone before.
That we were both broken open wide.
Giving and taking. Giving and taking.
Oh, did Ian take as his hips began to snap. Deeper and faster, working both of us into a frenzy.
Heat blazed and flames lapped.
Rising up at our feet.
Emotion thick, my heart threatening to batter right out of my chest.
“Grace,” he gritted, his fingers sinking deeper into my thighs as if he couldn’t get deep enough, hi
s cock surging into my pussy at a punishing pace, those mesmerizing eyes on my mouth as if he wanted to lose himself there, too.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispered in some kind of awe. In fear and confusion and need.
It only drove him to take me harder. Demanding more. As if he didn’t understand that I would willingly offer everything.
I wanted to touch his face.
Kiss his mouth.
Taste his tongue.
But I let him have me the only way he would let me.
The man fucked me as if we had no time left. An uncaged animal who was taking his one chance.
Making his claim.
Marking me.
Every inch.
Body and heart and soul.
I was right.
I was right.
I was never going to be the same.
Our grunts filled the air, our bodies slapping as he drove deeper and harder and seared himself to my flesh.
“Fuck . . . so sweet . . . this body. It’s mine, Grace.”
Big hands grabbed me by the knees and pushed me open wide where I was splayed across his wall as he banged me into oblivion.
That’s what it was.
Oblivion.
And I was screaming out again, an orgasm splitting me in two.
Riding a river. Burning in his flames.
“Ian.” His name had become a prayer. A shout of my heart.
He only fucked me harder, faster and deeper and madder before the man was growling, hands everywhere, searching, as if he were trying to find a place to latch onto me forever.
He cinched down tight, body going rigid as he fully seated himself inside my body.
Ian’s grunts became a roar, and the man shuddered and shook, shouting my name with his release.
His cock was so full and thick as he throbbed inside me that I was slammed with a rebound of pleasure.
Streaking ribbons and binding bows.
Shot somewhere into heaven or hell or purgatory, I didn’t know.
The only thing I knew was I wanted to ride on it for all of eternity.
So, it was me grasping for him, hands sinking into his skin as I clamored for a breath. For a way to slow my body down, my heart down, when it was already racing for him.
He buried his face in my neck, gasping, his chest heaving as he struggled for a breath. “You are a goddamned miracle.”
My mouth went to his shoulder, kissing at the flesh, tasting his sweat-drenched skin. “Ian,” I whispered through shallow rasps, “Ian.”
My mind whirred as I tried to catch up to what I’d just done. Waiting for guilt to come flooding, this selfish act that I’d taken for myself.
But there was none to be found.
Only this feeling that I needed more.
His rock-hard abdomen rippled with aftershocks, and he stayed inside me while he caught his breath, before he slowly eased out and helped me onto my unsteady feet.
I wanted to weep at the sudden emptiness.
Eyes moving softly over my face, he brushed back my matted hair, his breaths short and heaving as he stared at me, brow pinching as if he were struggling with what to say.
“That was . . . incredible. You’re incredible. I knew I wanted you. Finally understand why.”
I was silently begging him to give in to me.
Kiss me. Why won’t you kiss me? What are you afraid of?
I wondered if he knew it, where my mind had gone, because his eyes dropped to my parched, dried lips.
A sorrow so old flashed through his expression that I got the creeping feeling that I might be chasing down a ghost.
He sucked in another breath, and he wound a hand gently into my hair. “I knew you would blow my mind. I just had no idea you were going to rock my world.”
I had to swallow down the emotions that were making a play at climbing up my throat. Words I wanted to release but knew neither of us were ready to hear. “I’m pretty sure it was you who just blew mine. Three times.”
“I promised you I’d make a good memory.”
I tried not to let those words cut through me like a blade, the horrible, empty feeling with the thought of him walking away after what we’d just shared.
The connection between us so tangible I felt like I could hold it in my hands.
I forced my mouth into the semblance of a smile. “I like your brand of promises.”
He nipped my chin. “There are plenty more of those kinds of promises where that came from.”
Surprise had me squealing when he suddenly dipped down and swept me off my feet. He cradled me like a bride against the strength of his naked body, those tattooed arms wrapping me tight.
He might have been holding me, but I was only falling farther.
Faster and deeper.
Still, I latched onto the playfulness that had taken over his mood as he began to rush with me through the massive room. “Oh my God . . . don’t you dare drop me, Ian Jacobs. The last thing I need is to be explaining away how I ended up with a broken leg.”
Ask me who I’d be explaining it to, I wanted to beg.
I didn’t know until right then how desperately I needed to tell him. To let him hold it. Wondering if he’d run or stand at my side.
That raspy voice came low at my ear. “Drop you? Never.”
If only that were the truth.
I looped both arms around his neck. I realized in that moment I didn’t care where he was taking me.
He carried me down a short hall, passing by two doors on either side. He continued to the end of the hall toward another set of double doors.
He edged around so he could turn the knob, trying to balance me at the same time.
Another ripple of giggles rolled up my throat. “So strong.” I let the words play from my tongue when I meant them one hundred percent.
He cocked me one of those arrogant smirks, the man so damned pretty it made my heart hurt. “You’re really just a skinny little thing.”
I rolled my eyes because that wasn’t even close to being the truth. “Hardly. I rock my curves. Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed.”
“Who me, ogling you.”
I swatted playfully at his chest, the man bringing out a side of me that I’d almost forgotten. “Pssh. All you do is ogle me. Don’t act like you haven’t.”
“Fine. You want the truth? I’ve been eye-fucking this fine-ass body since the second I saw you.” He nuzzled his face into my hair. “Guilty as charged. I want to get lost in every lush curve. Get lost in all of you.”
Do it.
Let go.
Love me.
Oh, but that was just stupidity, just asking for the worst kind of trouble. I couldn’t even believe I’d let the thought enter my mind.
One side of the double doors swung open, and he carried me through the shadows that played along the walls of the darkened bedroom.
It was the only room that appeared to be halfway lived in, a pair of shoes at the foot of an enormous bed and a tee shirt tossed on a fabric chair over near the floor to ceiling windows that were covered in wispy, sheer drapes.
I was expecting him to carry me to his bed, but he bypassed it, going straight for the en suite bathroom through an open archway to the right.
He flipped on the overhead lights, and I blinked against the harshness.
I was taken aback again by just how strikingly beautiful he was up close beneath the glow.
A bronzed, tattooed statue.
It only made me hold on to that strength more tightly, clinging to the erratic beat of his thrumming heart, wishing that he might let me hold it.
He set me down in front of a glass-walled shower.
My legs wobbled.
He grinned. “Knocking you off your feet again.”
A blush rode up to my cheeks. “I’m not sure I’ll ever stop shaking when I’m standing in front of you.”
“You’d better not.” The sweetest kind of smirk rode around his full, full lips, as if another sid
e of him was trying to break out.
Keeping a hand on my waist to keep me steady, he reached through the door and turned on the showerhead. I watched him, the profile of his masculine face, the bristling strength of his beautiful body as he removed the condom and tossed it into the trash.
The man was like raw, unedited art. The purest form of beauty.
Steam filled the room, and he stuck his hand under the fall of water as if he were checking the temperature the same way as I’d done for him.
There was something about it that felt the same. As intimate as that day he’d come into my salon.
The connection that stretched tight between us something neither of us could escape.
As if he felt the draw of it, he backed me into the spray.
Goosebumps crawled across my flesh.
From the change of the temperature or the sheer heat of his gaze, I didn’t know. All I knew was sensation was still racing everywhere.
Somehow growing even stronger.
The man had just obliterated me, heart, body, and soul, and I got the distinct sense that he was aiming to do it again.
His dick swung at half mast, and there was nothing I could do but reach out.
Touch him.
I fisted the velvet flesh, and my heart gave a quiver.
Overcome.
But I didn’t know how to stop. Not when I’d already been swept away.
He groaned out a needy sound, the man growing hard and long and thick where I held him in my hand.
I stroked him, relishing in the power of doing it. In being in control of his pleasure. Of his need.
He stepped closer, and my other hand felt along his hip, gliding down until I was cupping his balls.
His jaw came unhinged, and he dropped his forehead to my shoulder as I continued to stroke him.
“I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doing?” he rasped.
“The only thing I know is I don’t want to stop touching you.”
Pants rose into the air, at one with the steam that billowed between us.
I could feel it, the energy that lit into a frenzy.
Wild.
And I was stroking him harder and faster as need blossomed in my body, my belly shaking and center throbbing for him again.
Faster than I could make sense of it, he had my back pinned to the cold stone of the shower wall. The impact made me release him, and instantly he was the one in control.
All of Me: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel Page 14
