The Price of Passion

by Stephanie Morris

  Kaden continued the wonderful massage, then rubbed a little higher, to her ankles, then her calves.

  The skin of his work-roughened fingertips put a run in her panty hose. “Sorry,” he said.

  “You were right. I should have removed them.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  “Kaden—”

  “I want to help you relax, rub your back, your shoulders. But there’s no pressure, Sierra. Your pace.”

  He was asking for so much more, she knew. If she started to take off clothes for him, she wondered if she’d be able to stop.

  “Were you being sincere when you said I’d have to ask?”

  He studied her closely, as if trying to read her expression for the answer she wanted to hear.

  “Yes, Sierra, I was.” His hand tightened around her leg. “You’ll have to tell me, Sierra. It might be one of the most challenging things I have ever done, but I promise, unless you tell me, unless you say yes, unless you nod, I won’t make love to you.”

  Having that sort of power was evenly startling and exciting. She had to take accountability for her own actions, couldn’t say she’d been swept away, that she didn’t have a clear head. She’d done that once before. Clearly, he didn’t want her running off again.

  “If I take off my stockings, will you swear not to look?”

  “Sierra, you test me.” The words came out on a growl and a pulse ticked in his jaw. “I’ll close my eyes.”

  She slipped off the bed, squirmed out of the restrictive pantyhose and dropped them on the floor next to her shoes. “Do you have on a slip?”

  Her head jerked up, expecting to find his eyes open, but they were closed and his head was turned. It had been a lucky guess.

  “Yes. I have on a strapless one.”

  “Good. Take your dress off too.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Sierra—”

  “There’s a zipper on the back of the dress, Kaden.”

  “Would you like for me to undo it for you?” When she released a pent up breath, he added, “I’ll still be completely dressed. How dangerous can that be?”

  Tremendously, she knew.

  Yet the idea of a massage appealed to her. She’d had a full body massage once, and nearly dissolved into a puddle on the floor. And she had just married this man a few hours ago. If he was offering a massage with no-strings attached, she’d be crazy to turn it down.

  “Okay, Kaden.”

  Courageously, before she could change her mind, she turned away from him. Without a sound, he moved behind her, made quick work of the zipper then moved away. A quick glance over her shoulder told her he’d resumed his position on the bed and closed his eyes again.

  She quickly stepped out of the dress and put it away neatly before adjusting her slip, as if it would be any protection. She rejoined him on the bed, her pulse racing at the sound of his sharp inhalation.

  “Exquisite,” he whispered approvingly.

  She pulled a pillow over her chest.

  “Roll over,” he said.

  She did, reveling in the feel of the sensation of his hands created, the way he gently worked at the muscles. After a couple of minutes, she forgot to be wary. It would be easy to think he didn’t threaten her.

  That thought evaporated when his hands slid up her inner thighs and then worked on her buttocks.

  Extreme heat—nothing to do with relaxation—rushed through her, tightened her insides.

  “Relax,” he commanded softly, as if reading her mind. It was too late. She’d felt his touch, remembered her response to his caress.

  She stiffened, her nipples tight buds, her breasts heavy, her stomach tight with expectation and—heaven help her—interest. She craved him, every bit as much as she wanted not to want him.

  “Sierra?”

  Her first time with Kaden had been a one-night stand, her response out of the ordinary. So why then did she feel this urge to reach for him, to ask him to make love to her?

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Yes. No. I...”

  “Roll over, look at me.”

  Hesitantly, she did.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I’m...” Dying from mortification.

  This was a consummation of so many things—of his kindness, his humility, his passion, his touch. It was about so much more than sex.

  “Sierra?”

  “I can’t say the words,” she responded softly.

  Silence, interrupted only with their rapid breathing, filled the room.

  “What are you saying? That you want me to stop touching you?”

  “No.”

  “Sierra, I didn’t do this as a way to get you around so that I could have sex with you.”

  “I know. I just didn’t know that I could really...um...well...” She tried to look away only to have him reach out and turn her face back to his. “I actually want to make love.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sierra, I’m only a man. And what you’re saying to me is making me hard, quickly. If you want to make love, tell me.”

  Trying to convince herself that this was only to make their marriage of convenience work, she moistened her dry lips by licking them.

  “Do I hear a yes?” he asked, his hand trembling where he touched her.

  Kaden wasn’t giving her a chance to run or hide. And she knew how much her answer mattered to both of them. Looking deep into his eyes, she said truthfully, “Yes.”

  The look he bestowed upon her, combined with the gradual, seductive smile, made her swallow hard.

  “This is the effect you have on me.”

  This time, he didn’t place her hand on his chest, but below his waist, where she felt him rigid beneath her hand. He wanted her. With that realization came a surge of power. She’d never experienced anything like this, never thought things would turn around so much that this didn’t feel like a wifely duty.

  He removed his hand from her face and the other from his erection. Then, standing, he helped her to her feet, gradually sliding his hand down to skim over the tips of her breasts trough the fabric of the slip.

  She exhaled the small amount of breath still in her lungs and then reached for his tie, pulling on the ends and letting it fall to the floor, on top of her ruined nylons and shoes.

  “I’d be happy to,” he stated, grabbing the hem of the thin garment and pulling it over her head.

  Chapter Nine

  Sierra inhaled sharply when he dropped her slip onto the floor in the blink of an eye. He almost did the same at the sight of her. His insides were drawn as tight as a barbed-wire fence. But he had to be patient. Even if it killed him.

  She made a move to cover herself, but he grabbed her hands. “No,” he stated softly.

  With great hesitance, her gaze met his, seeking comfort.

  “I want to see you, all of you.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t forget we’ve done this before.”

  “Not this way,” she replied.

  “I don’t want you hiding under the covers or trying to cloak yourself in darkness.”

  “It’s still light out,” she said. Sierra smiled at him, but it wobbled.

  “The idea’s still the same,” he responded. “Is that what you truly want?” He captured both her wrists with one hand and tilted her chin back with his index finger. “To hide yourself from me like you did the last time?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Don’t try to shut me out, Sierra.”

  “I’m not,” she countered. “I don’t want to.”

  “Then let me see you, touch you, taste you.”

  After a deep shudder made its way up her spine, she did her best to relax.

  Kaden let go of her hands and she lowered them to her sides. “Lovely,” he said appreciatively. The strapless bra supported her, yet revealed the smooth skin of her cleavage. Through the white fabric, he saw the rise of her nipples. She was turned on like him.

  He inhaled deeply. />
  Softly, he drew the material across one tip, hearing her cry out. She was sensitive, more so than the last they’d been together.

  “Will you take your bra off for me?”

  Leisurely, without a verbal response, she reached for the fastening. Kaden stared, enjoying the sight of her. She dropped the undergarment. He praised her silently when she lifted her chin, shaking her hair back from her face and meeting his gaze. Kaden couldn’t hold the intense look between the two of them for long. He had to see her body.

  “You’re breasts are fuller.”

  She drew her bottom lip in between her teeth.

  “Exquisite,” he murmured. “And the area around your nipples, it’s darker.”

  “Yes.”

  Cupping her breasts in his hands, he brushed his thumbs across her tips. Her head tipped to one side, her dark hair sliding across her neck. He replaced his thumbs with stokes of his tongue, and she moaned softly. Then he drew one peak into his mouth, suckling there.

  Sierra reached for him, her fingers digging into his upper arm and grabbing his dress shirt.

  It was no longer sufficient. “I want you naked for me,” he demanded, his voice husky.

  With fingers feeling more like extra thumbs, he fumbled with undressing her the rest of the way, pushing the panties over her hips and down her legs. Sierra kicked free of the fabric and reached for him again.

  “Wait,” he requested. “Let me look at you.”

  She did.

  He started with her breasts, the way the areolas had darkened and the nipples had lengthened. He slowly worked his way down to the slight swell of her stomach, then the curve of her hips, and ended at her feet.

  Then looking wasn’t enough and he crouched down, brushed a kiss across her abdomen before reaching out to place his hand there, feeling for their unborn child.

  When her knees gave out, he slid an arm beneath her legs and carried her to the bed. Tonight of all nights, he wanted to be the ultimate seducer. He’d had patience that first night. Maybe it was because she’d hidden underneath the covers and he hadn’t seen her stand proudly before him, hadn’t noticed her reactions, which said she was ready for him. Instead, she’d kept the light off and he’d used all his skills to pleasure her, thinking of her and only her.

  Now...

  Now she lived in his home—their home, kept a door closed between them at night, even though he could hear her shower, knew when she was washing, rubbing a towel over her damp body, changing her clothes...

  He’d had weeks of feeling unrelenting desire—and had been celibate. That particular type of patience wouldn’t last much longer. He wouldn’t last much longer.

  “This isn’t fair,” she complained. “You have on more clothes than I do.”

  “I’ll remedy that problem right away.”

  She squirmed, tugging the covers down and shoving the sheets aside, even as she watched him.

  He needed to be inside her.

  And the expectation was fierce.

  A few heartbeats later, she slid over, and he joined her on the bed.

  The late afternoon sunlight radiated through the closed curtains. There’d be nothing hidden between them, just the way he wanted it. This wasn’t just a casual fling. It had to be perfect. “You’re lovely,” he whispered. “Just relax and enjoy.”

  Resting on one arm, he caressed the inside of her calf, traveling a little higher with each stroke, nearing her knee. She kept her thighs pressed together, and the sound of her breathing filled his ears. Not faint, but heavy; not calm, but excited.

  “Your tempo,” he reiterated. “I won’t go further until you’re ready.”

  Slowly, she relaxed her muscles. He continued his exploration. Then when he neared the juncture of her thighs, she stiffened again, pressing her heels into the mattress and squeezing her buttocks.

  Her tempo might kill him.

  Kaden fought an internal battle. He moistened his finger. Then leisurely, intentionally, he dragged it across her most sensitive spot.

  “Kaden!”

  Even though he’d made a promise, he repeated the act.

  She trembled.

  “Tell me, Sierra. Tell me to continue on, or tell me to stop.”

  Her hands balled into fists by her sides. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “I don’t think so,” he responded. “We’re doing it different this time. It’s going to be different every time. I want you wet and willing.”

  She inhaled sharply. “But—”

  “That’s our agreement. You’re not forfeiting yourself to me.” He moved slightly, keeping a light pressure there. “I’m not your ex-husband.” He refused to mention the man’s name. “And this isn’t a wifely obligation for me to rid myself of an overabundance of testosterone.”

  “Uh—”

  “This is about pleasure. Yours and mine, too. I want you to tell me about what you desire, and I refuse to allow you to run or hide from yourself, from me. Do you like this?” He stroked her once, then stopped.

  She dug her heels deeper into the mattress, but it wasn’t because she was getting tense. It was because she was seeking his touch. Greedily, he wanted her even more ravenous.

  “Tell me what you want.” He studied her, saw that her nipples were still hard and that her lower lip was swollen from her tugging on it.

  “I liked that.”

  “What?”

  “Kaden!”

  “Tell me, Sierra.”

  “You know, that.”

  He didn’t budge.

  “The way you were caressing me.”

  “Like this?” He slipped his thumb between her folds, and this time, she was moist.

  “Yes!”

  “Gentle? More pressure? Slower? Faster? How?”

  When she didn’t respond, he stopped again.

  For the first time since he’d known her, she mumbled a mild curse word. He smiled. She was losing that stalwart control, and he liked it.

  “Harder,” she replied softly.

  Gradually, he increased the pressure against her, rubbing, caressing, his fingers slipping on her moistness. When she started to squirm underneath him, her breaths coming in excited pants, he moved away, cradling his hand around one of her breasts and closing his mouth around its distended tip.

  She lifted her hips, calling out his name.

  He could have taken her over the edge, but he wanted her there on the cusp a little while longer. When she came, he wanted it to be without her holding anything back.

  He wanted her to know she was his.

  That idea shook him. Unexpected and powerful, it caused his heart to thump painfully. She carried his child, and that was all there was to it. At least that was all he wanted it to be.

  Turning to her other breast, he gave it the same sort of attention. Gently, he ran his teeth across the top.

  “Now!” she commanded, reaching for him. “Now, Kaden. Make love to me. I want you inside me.”

  Physical demand grabbed at him. Her insistence directing him, he moved between her legs and entered her—deeply—with one single, smooth stroke.

  Sierra was drenched, like he wanted. She was welcoming, like he’d hoped.

  With her hands on his back, fingers pressed against his spine, he began to move, feeling her tighten around him, drawing the response he was trying so desperately to hold back. His thrusts intensified, and her breathing became labored.

  Focusing on her—his wife—he brushed his lips against her forehead and whispered an endearment, something he’d never, ever done before. He stroked deeper and she lifted her hips, moaning like she’d done their first night together.

  Suddenly, she stiffened, her head pressed back into the pillow, and her mouth opened on a soundless scream. He relished in the rhythmic tightening of her body. Gratitude for what she’d given him slammed into him, and so did his orgasm.

  A few heartbeats later, he was spent, physically. But it went beyond that, he knew. It was an emotional release,
too. Their lovemaking had been essential in setting the stage for their entire married life.

  Gradually, his breathing returned to normal. He’d worked up a sweat, and it clung to him, along with the pleasantness of her scent.

  He arranged her so that she lay cuddled next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.

  Gently, she said, “You were serious. You didn’t enter me until I asked you to.”

  “I wanted you to want it as much as I did.”

  “You succeeded.”

  Her disheveled hair hid her eyes, but he didn’t rearrange it, resolved not to interrupt what she was saying. “Shocked?”

  “At Andy and Hillary’s anniversary party, I wanted you, but I’ve never been so—I don’t know—turned on, that I’d ask a man to make love to me.”

  He pushed her hair aside then and stared into her eyes. “You’re my wife, Sierra. Anything you want in the bedroom is yours.”

  She trembled.

  “But what I want is to explore you.”

  She chuckled. “You just did.”

  “No, I just discovered one way to make you come. I want to figure out a hundred more.”

  “A hundred?” Her mouth formed a circle of surprise.

  He slipped a finger inside, pressed the pad against her tongue. “At a minimum.”

  Her eyes widened, she closed her lips. Then she suckled.

  And he figured out she’d just found the first way to make him explode.

  * * * *

  “You hungry?”

  Clutching a pillow to her chest, she nodded.

  “Again?”

  “Yes.”

  “So am I,” he replied, reaching for her.

  She smiled. “For food, Kaden, real food.”

  “Okay, okay,” he protested. “I’ll feed your so you can keep up your energy.”

  “Me? Why would that be an issue?”

  “Because...” He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled the strands toward him, inhaling the scent of the vanilla shampoo she used. “The two of us aren’t finished yet.”

  “But we’ve already...three times.”

  “And a fourth time is needed to make sure it’s not a fluke.”

  His voice had relaxed to raspy undertones, something she’d never hear from him before. It sent another wave of realization through her.