I moaned, it was a half turned on, half replete and wanting to sleep kind of sound. He made that delightful cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh noise above me, that I associated only with him, and that made me smile no matter how tired I felt.
"You've got one more in you," he urged.
"I don't think I have," I murmured against his lips, surprising myself that I could talk at all.
"Don't give up on me yet, sweetheart," he whispered against my ear and I had the strange feeling he wasn't just talking about here and now, that there was a deeper meaning, but I lost it as soon as I thought it, with another teasing sweep of his shaft through my wet folds.
His hand dipped down between us, his finger sliding inside without warning.
"Oh, yeah," he rasped. "Wet, so fucking wet for me." He flicked his thumb against my nub making me groan. It was loud. Louder than I expected. So loud it woke me up a little from the fog he'd covered me in. "You want me," Dominic advised, a little arrogantly I thought.
"I want you now," I shot back, a little of the Genevieve Cain fire back, "not next week. So, get on with it." I rocked my hips up, letting him know exactly what I wanted.
He laughed, a full laugh, no cough this time. "You are adorable," he said and on those words slowly sank his shaft inside.
He didn't hurry, just as he promised, he took his time and drew it out. As soon as he got me close to orgasming, he'd pull back, shift his hips, deny me what my body craved. He said he'd tease an orgasm out of me, I hadn't realised he'd actually tease me in the process.
"Dominic," I chastised. "Finish it already."
"I'm having fun," he answered, rolling his hips in a way that stretched me delightfully and made me dig my fingers into his back, nails clawing skin. "When you're on top, you can chose the pace, but when I'm driving, I'm in charge," he explained.
I kind of liked the idea that he'd give me control like that. I'd got the impression that in bed, like in most things, Dominic would always be the one calling the shots.
"I'll believe that when I see it," I muttered and then gasped as he rubbed against me in exactly the right spot.
"Sweetheart," he husked above me, "I'm going to show you it all."
It was a promise, and it warmed me from the inside out. I found myself hugging him closely, my arms tightening around his upper back, making him press a little more of his weight into me. I didn't care, I needed to have him close. In that second I wanted, no I needed, to believe it could last.
"Genevieve," he murmured in my ear, his whole body flush against mine, his face nestled in the curve of my neck and shoulder, his hips still rocking against me in a delicious rhythm. "My sweet, sweet Genevieve."
I knew he'd recognised my response to his promise. I didn't have time to regret showing that side of myself, because he chose that moment to let me come. I say, let me come, because he was most definitely in charge, and all it took was a change of angle, a slight increase in pressure at just the right spot and I was coming, hard and long and calling his name without even realising I was.
"Oh, bloody hell," he said above me, a change from his normal curse.
It took several long seconds before I could open my eyes and look at him. He had slowed his movements down, barely pulling in and out, and when I focused on him, a ridiculous smile curving my lips, I saw him grinning. But he was also sweating, a small muscle in his jaw twitching at the amount of control it was taking not to give in and find his own release.
That made me smile harder, because it said a lot about the man making love to me right now. He stuck to his word, he'd promised to fuck me one way, and although I didn't feel so much as fucked as I did loved, he was sticking to his plan.
"Your turn," I told him and his grin widened into a full blown smile that stole my breath away.
"It's going to be fast and hard, sweetheart," he advised. "Can you take that?"
I nodded and before the movement was over he pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach, then placed a hand at one hip, lifting my rear up off the bed and guided himself back inside.
Holy cow I could feel more of him this way. Every inch of his hard length, every ridge, every slide in and out. I could feel him right at the very back of me. So far inside it almost hurt, but although he'd said it would be fast and hard, he was allowing me time to adjust to the size of him from this angle.
"Play with yourself," he commanded.
"I don't think..." I started, about to tell him I was completely orgasmed out.
"Do it," he rasped. "It'll make it easier to take you hard and deep."
Oh. I shifted my cheek to the bed and reached between my legs and began to swirl my fingers over my sensitive spot, then because I couldn't help investigating, I reached a little further and placed a finger either side of his shaft, feeling him pull out and slide back in right where we connected.
"Christ," he murmured behind me, back on to his favourite curse word for now. "Are you ready?" he asked, but I could hear the strain in his voice.
I moved my fingers back to where they'd stimulate me the most, rubbed and circled the right spot, groaned out a yes and felt him slam hard inside in one long plunge.
"Oh my God," I groaned into the bedspread. He was so deep and it felt so good. I started playing with myself in earnest then, determined to come before he finished himself off.
"Christ, Genevieve," he said behind me. "You are so fucking unbelievable." And then he was gone, in a flurry of hard and deep and fast and urgent and my body rocked against the bedspread, his thighs slammed against my rear, his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me back against each thrust, burying himself deep and groaning on each plunge.
It was so incredibly erotic. He'd made love to me before, but he was definitely fucking me now and I adored it. I'd had more than my fair share of orgasms, he'd seen to that, but I still wanted another. I wanted desperately to come while he fucked me so very hard, while he took me the way only Dominic could.
"Now!" he ordered, well aware I was trying to match his release. I was close, so very close, but I couldn't quite make it and that only made me more desperate and turned on and the moan that escaped my lips was one of frustration and sensual delight, but totally not what I wanted. I wanted to come.
He slammed into me again and again, but within seconds of his last command I felt his hands at my hips clench, his body go rigid at my back and then he was groaning out my name as he plunged deep one last time. And from this angle I felt every hot spurt inside and it went on and on and on.
Despite the most amazing sex I had ever had, despite having come more times in one session than I had ever experienced before, I was still so turned on and so frustrated to be turned on and now it was over. He was spent, I should have been spent, but somehow I was left hanging. Which wasn't fair to anyone at all.
He pulled out, flipped me over and before I could utter a single sound he was between my legs again, his release no doubt still present, but he didn't care, my gratification was all that mattered as his head dipped and his thumbs spread my folds wide and his tongue got to work. Two fingers slipped inside my sensitive and swollen centre, matching the rhythm he'd established towards the end, but accompanying each thrust was a soothing lick of his tongue and suck of his mouth. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, I was so turned on and so impressed with his dedication to the task. I wanted it to last longer, I wanted to bask in his attention, in the sensations he was creating, but physiology took over and within a few moments I bucked against his hand and mouth, and came. Hard. Harder than hard. For a second or two I blacked out, the overwhelming feeling and emotions simply too much.
I didn't emerge from that sated and completely out-of-this-world place until Dominic had crawled up beside my body and wrapped me in his arms.
"Oh my God," I managed to whisper, receiving a cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh from Dominic in amongst my hair. "That was insane," I added, because my mind was absolutely AWOL and my mouth had decided to share. "Incredible," I continued to impart.
"Mind blowing." And if I could have turned my mouth off I would have, but I simply wasn't capable of cognitive thought. "We are so doing that again."
It was at this point I noticed Dominic's whole body shuddering against me, his entire frame racked in uncontrolled silent laughter. His arms holding me tighter than before, but his chest and stomach rubbing deliciously against my side with each internal guffaw.
"What?" I demanded, incredulously. He'd laugh right now?
"Paradise," he managed to get out between shakes. "You are my paradise," he finally said when he'd gotten himself under control.
"Oh, all right then," I replied, because really, what else could I say?
And that's when he really let the laughter fly.
Chapter 22
Not Opposed To Using Every Opportunity That Is Presented To Get What I Want
Dominic had a sexy laugh, it was contagious. It also wasn't what I had expected of the man. His usual cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh was his way of controlling his reaction to a humorous moment, but when he really let himself go, it was spectacular. It was quite simply something else to watch. Dominic, the controlled, well presented and plan-every-moment-to-the-nth-degree lawyer, kept this side of himself well hidden, I thought. I'd seen glimpses. A flash of the man beneath the façade, but they'd failed to show me exactly who he was.
And watching him now laugh openly - his arms still wrapped around my frame, his naked and glorious body lying out next to me - I thought that perhaps there wasn't a more beautiful thing. Dominic Anscombe was many things; god-like, sexiest smile and name, even dream-like. But Dominic Anscombe laughing, stole my heart and hid it somewhere I would never have a chance of retrieving ever again.
I was in so much trouble.
But I couldn't help laughing with him, enjoying the moment. Lying in bed with this incredibly handsome, omnipresent man, and knowing for this moment he was with me and only me. In this moment he was mine.
"I think I'm going to make it my goal in life to make you talk non-stop like that," he advised, making me suck in a soft breath at his words. Goal in life wasn't something you said to someone you'd negotiated two days together with. It was something you said to someone you intended to spend the rest of your life with, or at the very least, be a part of their life for the rest of yours.
I bit my lip but managed not to pull away. His arms tightened around me and his head ducked down to lay a kiss against my temple, in amongst my hair. I closed my lids for a second and just savoured that move. Dominic's move.
I'd thought I could switch off to what lay ahead and just enjoy the two days I had with Dominic. I realised now how difficult that was going to be.
"Are you tired, sweetheart?" Dominic asked.
I nodded in reply, although having only managed three hours sleep, and having experienced the most satiating sex I'd ever had, I wasn't actually that tired. But I did need a time out, a bit of space to breathe. If he let me sleep for a while I could get my head screwed on right.
"Go to sleep then, lovely," he added, pulling the covers out from under us and then climbing back into bed and curling my body into his as he covered us both up.
I scrunched my eyes closed, knowing he wasn't going to leave me alone. It had been a stupid thought. Two days he had me, there was no way he was wasting any of it, even if I had to sleep.
It was warm under the covers and as much as I didn't want to think it, he felt so very good curled into me. Dominic shifted us slightly so my head was on his shoulder and chest, and he was on his back, and then reaching down he grabbed my leg, behind the knee, and pulled it over his thigh. Knowing he was completely naked next to me was almost my undoing, but he snuggled us close together, as though we'd done this a million times before, and also as though we'd do it a million times again.
I didn't think I'd be able to sleep like that with all those thoughts raging through my mind, but maybe I was more tired than my stressed out brain knew, because with Dominic lying so affectionately and patiently next to me, I felt my lids grow heavy and without any warning I was asleep.
I woke to late afternoon sunshine streaming through the windows and no Dominic at my side. For a moment I had to assess how that made me feel. I wanted it to be relief, he was giving me space to think things through, but in all honesty, I felt a keen sense of loss. And before I knew what I was doing, I was up out of the bed, grabbing one of Dominic's discarded oversized business shirts and nothing else, and traipsing out of the bedroom as I did it up, in search of him.
I found him in the kitchen, cooking. It smelt divine. I walked in on silent feet and watched him working at the stove. He was facing away from me and he was wearing his faded denim jeans and nothing else. His back looked glorious, broad shoulders, rippling muscles as he moved to put something else in the pan before him, a light tan that I now knew didn't stop at his underwear line. I couldn't help it, I smiled. Both in appreciation of the god-like man before me and picturing Dominic Anscombe sunbathing nude.
I must have made a sound because he turned around and spotted me, a smile of his own spreading across his stubbled cheek face.
"Well, hello lovely. Sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a log," I answered and then my mouth engaged. Of course. "I'm not quite sure what that means, like a log. It sounds so ridiculous, don't you think?"
His lips twitched obviously. "Yes, I suppose it does," he replied. "But it's better than like the dead."
"Yeah," I said, taking a step further into the room and relaxing into the inane conversation. "Or slept like a top. What's with that one? How does a top sleep anyway?"
He laughed as he turned back to the stove. "Or, how about, slept like the Dickens."
"Now that's one I haven't heard before," I said, suddenly at his side and unsure how I got there.
"Or," he went on, "slept like a baby."
"Mm, heard of that one. How about slept like a spoon? That one was in a song I heard once and I guess it's talking about spooning or something."
"I like spooning," he said softly, his eyes on me, but he was stirring a delicious smelling tomato based sauce in the pan. Maybe Bolognese.
I held his gaze for a second, then without thinking - a commonly occurring fault - I said, "I know."
"You twitch when you sleep, like a puppy," he divulged.
"I do not!" I came back in mock horror.
He made that cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh sound and returned his attention to the pan.
"It's cute," he said to the sauce.
"What? The sauce?" I asked on a tease.
"Oh, and now I get to see another Genevieve Cain, this one with a little pixie humour."
I scoffed. "Pixie humour. Where do you get this stuff."
"I read," he shared. "A lot."
"And sunbathe," I added, nodding towards his tanned back.
His eyes slid to mine, blue-blue staring out at me.
"You don't," he said in a low voice. And he was right, I was fairly much as white as they come, but that didn't mean I didn't brown. I just hadn't had time for several years to sunbathe. Either working at Sweet Seduction or doing whatever Brett wanted to do. I missed the beach. I used to hang out there through high school with my girlfriends. Sunning it up after school or on the weekends. As soon as one of us got a car, we'd spend every second we could there.
"I miss it," I said, but I was sure that was meant to just be in my head.
"The sun?" he asked, placing some pasta in a boiling pot of water behind the pan of tomato sauce and, now that I looked closely, mince. Yes, Bolognese. Yum.
I nodded. "Used to go to the beach whenever I could. Not so much now. Life got in the way."
He looked at me intently for a moment, but didn't pry. "Do you burn or go brown?" he asked, turning back to the stove to twirl a fork through the pasta.
"Brown, I'm lucky, what with blonde hair and all. I just get progressively darker. It used to be a challenge between my girlfriends and I, who would be darkest at the end of the school year. No
t exactly a healthy pastime with the harsh New Zealand sun and all, but we were young and carefree. You know how it is."
"And you're not so carefree anymore," Dominic said. It wasn't a question.
I answered, for some reason, anyway. "No."
Neither of us spoke for several moments, he continued to stir the Bolognese and I just let my mind wander to how much of my life had changed when I met Brett. Brett hated the sun, but he hated me spending time with my girlfriends more. I lost touch with a lot of them over that time. Even Kelly drifted away, until I started Sweet Seduction and asked her to come work for me. She jumped at the opportunity and dove right back into my life. I have a lot of things to thank Sweet Seduction for. Not only was it my dream brought to life, it brought me back Kelly and gave me something of my own away from Brett. Without it, I don't think I could have left him in the end. And even though things are still up in the air, in that second I realised no matter what, I had left Brett Elliott already.
The realisation hit me hard. I reached a hand out to steady myself on the counter beside me and Dominic's gaze flicked back to me from the stove at the movement, searching my face.
"What is it?" he asked gently. "Tell me, sweetheart."
He stepped in front of me, cupping my cheeks with his hands. His thumbs rubbing over my jaw on either side in a soothing motion that seemed to work. But I didn't know how to tell him I had finally woken up. That there was no way I could go back to Brett now. Not ever. And that meant if ASI and Jason failed to sort this out, all was lost. My stomach felt hollow, my heart felt destroyed.
Sweet Seduction Sacrifice Page 23
