The Chase

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Little unknown fact about me,” I said with a smile. “I’m an inventor too.”

  “Really?”

  Shimmying down, I rolled onto my side and reached for him, unzipping his trousers and easing him out of his pants. I wrapped my fingers around his impressive girth and ran my hand up and down.

  Tobias rested his head on the pillow and smiled down at me.

  Swirling my tongue around the tip of his head, my eyelids fluttered at the thrill of his taste, so masculine, so virile, his skin silky smooth and taut, and I felt giddy with excitement when I sucked more of his pre-cum, greedy for more of him.

  “This one is already patented I’m afraid,” he said huskily. “But I’ll let you use it.”

  “That’s very generous of you.”

  His hand pressed me back onto him, his fingers curling in my hair and forcing the pace. “What you do to me, Leighton.”

  “Call me Zara, or I’ll stop.” A flick of my tongue teased around his head, running up and down the veins and worshipping every inch of him.

  “Zara, Zara, Zara.” He lifted his hips. “Oh, that’s good, baby. Suck harder. That’s it.”

  Taking him all the way back into my throat, I massaged him with my tongue and lips, from hilt to tip, his breathing now ragged, his stomach muscles tensing.

  Knowing I was sending him into a frenzy like this, just how he’d done to me, made my pride soar.

  “My sweet Zara,” he whispered.

  With my hand working him, my mouth lowered to suckle his balls, swirling my tongue around the delicate ridges, taking my own arousal to a fever pitch. My mouth now returned to the length of him, and took him all the way to the back of my throat, dragging my lips up to the tip and firmly down again, sucking in my cheeks as my hands cupped him gently.

  “We need a condom,” he said in a rush.

  “I might have one.”

  “Might?” He sat up, half amused, half a man possessed as he gestured to me. “Hurry.” He undressed quickly, removing his shirt and trousers in record time.

  Scrambling, I dragged open the side table drawer and felt around for the packet. When he snatched it out of my hand with a devilish smirk, I squealed with laugher.

  God, his cock looked beautifully erect as he rolled on the clear sheath, shiny now and rock hard, an unnerving extension of his powerful physique rearing majestically out of dark blond curls. A pure statement of power.

  15

  Rising and falling, my heart swelled as my body brushed against his.

  Rising and falling, riding him swiftly, shuddering in ecstasy as I slammed down on him. His hips thrust to match my strikes with force, his face reading mine as though gauging my tolerance to the fiercest fucking.

  Arching my back when he met my G-spot, my hair tumbling behind me, my fingers trailed over my breasts, only to be eased away by his hands. He took over pleasuring my sensitive nipples, blasting raw pleasure into them, bursting outward and downward and reaching all the way to my sex.

  “Don’t want it to end.” I wanted to come again and again.

  Just like I’d done half an hour ago when he’d pounced on me and pummeled me into a state of immovable bliss.

  “We fit together perfectly, baby,” he crooned. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your skin feels like silk. I can’t stop touching you.” His hand reached between my thighs and his thumb circled, keeping his pounding inside me precise, revving me closer to the edge.

  “Oh God,” I said, “I love it when you play with my clit!”

  “Jesus,” he bit out.

  Never had I felt so erotic, so feminine, and each time I caught wonderment as his gaze roamed over my curves.

  “Titian would have killed to have painted you!” he whispered.

  My gaze roamed over his sculptured torso and I knew I was making love to a sex god, a virile specimen of perfection, a sculptured art form who was breathtaking and talking and saying the kind of words I’d been starved of.

  “I’m close, Zara.” His jaw muscles tightened, his focus proven by that line of perspiration trickling down his brow. “I need you to come.”

  Unable to hold back anymore, my inner muscles milking him, my body crashing down hard to fill myself with him completely—

  Snatched away into nothing but rapture.

  “I like this plan,” he said. “Come together.” His body stilled beneath me, both of us coming hard, slick and wet from our mingled sweat, writhing in unison, losing ourselves, giving over to this moment and finally letting go.

  Exhausted, I fell forward onto him and nuzzled onto his chest and rested my head there. Tobias slid me to the side with him still inside me, and he brought me into a tight hug and wrapped a leg possessively over mine.

  We lay like that, not talking, the only sound was our contented sighs, the only sensation, his warm body against mine, our breathing in sync and his arms crushing me to him.

  He’d brought peace to my storm.

  Tobias only left me briefly to visit the bathroom and as he strolled away with that confident swagger, I ogled his sculpted back muscles and savored the way moonlight reflected off his impressive physique and my gaze drifted to his bum.

  He turned quickly and grinned at me.

  My hand slammed to my mouth to stop my squeal.

  As he headed in I could no longer hold back my grin as this burst of happiness forced me back. My head met my pillow with a thump, my mind spiraling with thoughts of never wanting him to leave.

  When he climbed back in, I felt safe again.

  Easing back the blanket to expose him, I caught his amusement as I shimmied down and lowered my head to his groin.

  “I want to know what this says.” I ran my fingertip along the Latin inscription.

  His cock was half-erect as it rested against his thigh; he could have been carved from marble he was so striking, those elegant veins, the ridged edges so exquisitely formed, and despite my closeness I strained to keep my focus on the Latin.

  Tobias traced his fingers through my hair and found a strand to play with. “It’s actually hidden down there for a reason.”

  My scalp tingled at his touch. “Now I am intrigued.”

  “This can be our little secret. I hide my ink so I’m not defined by it. Don’t want to be seen coming.”

  “No pun intended.” I traced my fingertip over the foreign writing. “Tell me about this one?”

  “Promise to suck my dick again and I will.”

  “Deal.”

  “That was easy.”

  “Or, I could just memorize it and do a quick internet search on a translation site.”

  “Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” He grinned and opened his arms. “Come here.”

  Beaming with joy, I moved upward and crashed against his chest and nuzzled in, melting as his strong arms wrapped around me. He reached for my faux fur blanket and pulled it up and over us.

  His affection was keeping the world at bay. “Thank you.”

  He peered down at me. “What for?”

  “Everything.”

  “Trust me, it’s my pleasure.”

  “No one has ever touched me the way you do.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’m serious, Tobias. You have this way about you.”

  “You inspire me.”

  This ache in my heart morphed into a wave of dread as I realized this respite was merely borrowed time. Being in his arms was his way of comforting me. He couldn’t prevent the inevitable. My body tensed at the thought of him leaving.

  “Zara?” His gaze roamed over my face. “Yes?”

  “It’s time for you to come again.” He reached down, his hand trailing over my abdomen.

&n
bsp; I flinched at the erotic pulse when his fingertip found my clit.

  My body trembled with the stunning rise of pleasure and my head crashed onto his chest as I squeezed my eyes shut, shifting my thighs slightly.

  My fingers milking his forearms.

  “See what I did there?” he whispered. “I’ve claimed you.”

  “Oh please.”

  “This beautiful pussy is now mine.”

  “Yes,” I managed, my lips pressing against him, my tongue flicking and tasting his fresh sexy scent over his smooth, taut chest.

  Wanting this to be true, needing to believe that after today he’d still want to know me, my heart aching with the suspicion that when my world inevitably fell apart, he’d be long gone.

  “Rock your hips forward and backward,” he whispered.

  These erotic sensations caused my pelvis to shudder as I rocked against his hand.

  “A little faster.”

  A throaty groan escaped my lips, this blinding bliss in my sex stealing my thoughts, my quickening pulse pounding, my breaths too ragged to control.

  “Is that nice?” he said gruffly.

  I managed a nod, this orgasm capturing me swiftly, unsure of where his finger stopped and my clit began, this delicate flicking morphing into a refined circling, proving he knew too well how to touch a woman.

  His hand shifted and he slid two fingers inside me, the pad of his thumb now circling where his finger had been. I found my rhythm, riding his hand with steady thrusts, bleary-eyed, small sobs of need catching in my throat.

  Tobias’s lips pressed my temple. “God, you feel amazing, don’t stop moving until you come, understand?”

  A frantic nod.

  “Look at me, Zara. Now give me permission to handle things from here for you.”

  Delirious, drowning in ecstasy, I tried to grasp his words. “Handle what?”

  “Every detail.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Open your eyes. That’s it. Now look at me. Keep moving. Good.”

  “I’m going to come.”

  “Not until you say the words.”

  “You can handle everything.” I was breathless.

  He dipped his head to my ear. “Now you can come.”

  My mind and body splintered at the same time, thoughts reaching out to make sense of this, unsure why he’d want to take on the mess that was my life.

  “Oh God,” I cried out, trembling through this endless euphoria.

  He flicked faster. “I’m going to watch over you. Do you want that?”

  “Yes,” my voice shaky. “Oh yes.”

  Shuddering through my orgasm, my core tight, thighs trembling, riding out these waves of pleasure, staring into his eyes, I fell deeper and deeper into the promise of him.

  His fingers continued a steady beat, prolonging my climax on and on and on, and I laid my cheek against his chest and sucked in desperately to refill my lungs. My body stiffened and I moaned, coming harder still, caught in his grip and beholden to his brilliant fingers moving just so and extending this earth-shattering orgasm.

  I collapsed on his side.

  Tobias kissed my head. “It’s going to be okay, Zara. I promise.”

  His words sent another thrill below as though his husky voice alone held power over me. This was the man I remembered from Oxford, the bossy, controlling man who’d persuaded me to strip down to my underwear and dress so provocatively.

  It had felt like an awakening...

  I couldn’t work out which side of Tobias I liked more; there was so much more to him I needed to discover.

  Lying safe in his arms, warm and snug by his side, with my leg thrown over him, it was easy to drift asleep.

  * * *

  Blinking into the darkness, remembering I had a gorgeous man in my bed, I reached for him, filled with disappointment when my hand ran over a cold sheet. I lifted my head off the pillow to check the time and caught a blur of movement at the end of the bed.

  Tobias was sitting there. “Good morning.”

  He’d pulled on his shirt and underwear, his hair falling just so as though he’d merely dragged his fingers through it and it had fallen effortlessly into place.

  I sat up and pulled the sheet around me. “What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  Shaking off my sleepiness, I needed to brush my teeth. I needed my tea. “Good morning.”

  He rose to his feet and came over and sat on the side of the bed near me.

  A rush of excitement raced through me as I roamed his beautiful face, his six-pack abs chiseled and kissed by the sun and conveniently visible through his unbuttoned shirt. His black boxer shorts taut around muscled thighs.

  A grateful sigh escaped me. “Couldn’t sleep?” I blamed my strange bed for his restlessness.

  “Did some work. Shot off a few emails from my phone. Texts. That kind of thing.” He looked back toward the living room. “Didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “We missed dinner last night. Are you hungry?”

  “Only for you.” He gave a cheeky grin.

  I broke his gaze. “Hope you felt comfortable enough to explore my fridge if you wanted something.”

  His eyes crinkled into a smile.

  “Thank you for being here,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  I was still in denial about seeing St. Joan last night. I wanted to believe it was a bad dream, a mistake, but I’d seen the evidence with my own eyes and the truth was starkly real.

  That gut-wrenching fear circled my chest. “What time do you have to be at work?”

  “Eight, maybe.”

  “You make your own hours?”

  “Pretty much.”

  And then I realized I’d have to face Adley this morning. Hopefully I’d get the chance to warn him about Christie’s before anyone else did.

  Tobias tilted my chin up. “You told me something last night...”

  He really did have dreamy irises, and that dark blond hair crowned that handsome face; his five o’clock shadow enhanced his edginess.

  God, what he’d done to me.

  My sex tingled in memory.

  He trailed a fingertip along my collarbone. “You mentioned you saved a few paintings from the fire?”

  I rubbed my eyes, not remembering I’d told him that. “Yes, I carried three and dad carried the big one.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Safe.”

  “Are they still at your old house?”

  I pulled the sheet up and over my head and hid from him.

  His soft gasp proved his realization.

  Tobias dragged the sheet off me slowly until I had no choice but to look at him. His face lit up with intrigue. “Show me.”

  I slid off the bed and wrapped the sheet around me, fully aware his eyes drank me in as I scrambled to cover myself. My self-consciousness returning as though we’d not already seen each other naked and I’d not just had the most incredible sex of my entire life.

  I padded out and down the hallway and into the spare bedroom. There wasn’t much in here, just a bed with an antiqued white frame made to match the soft hue of the Laura Ashley wallpaper. There was that corner wicker chair that no one was ever going to sit in. The rose prints that hung on the far wall offered some red into the mix and balanced out the blue.

  Tobias’s gaze searched the room but his expression was unreadable. He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed against his chest as he watched me—

  Gripping the left side, I slid the walled antique mirror all the way to the left and revealed the cupboard-sized safe hidden behind it. After tapping in the ten-digit code, I waited for the mechanism to release. The door opened and I reached in and drag
ged out the large wooden pallet.

  “Do you need a hand?” He stepped forward.

  “I’ve got it, thank you.” Carefully, I laid it flat on the carpet and slid off the lid.

  He came over and knelt beside me. “What do we have here?”

  I lifted out the first painting, which was separated from the others by brown paper. “Vermeer.” I watched him swallow back his surprise.

  Tobias’s irises went from green to gold as his gaze swept over the portrait of the young woman staring back at us, her beauty mystical, the light shining off the canvas bringing a brilliant aura over her delicate face.

  I rested that aside and went back to the wooden pallet and eased the next frame out.

  Tobias’s jaw gaped. “Da Vinci?” His eyes roamed over the sketch of a cannon gun, the image stained cream and brown, and faded only slightly by time.

  “Did you know da Vinci was left-handed?” I said.

  “Might have read that somewhere.” His tone was soft.

  I studied his face for a moment, seeing nothing but trust in his expression. The quietness lent itself to the reverence this moment deserved.

  “I’ve never shown anyone this,” I whispered.

  “I already feel privileged, Zara.”

  “And this one.” Sucking my bottom lip, still dazed from last night, I peeled back the protective wrapper, revealing the final painting below.

  Tobias’s gaze swept over it in awe, his words just above a whisper. “Ho-ly shit.”

  16

  A flawless rendition of Adam’s elegant hand reaching out to the mighty hand of God, dramatically painted on a single panel in a breathtaking demonstration of how the artist practiced his vision of the Creation of Adam.

  The final masterpiece was now set in the ceiling of the world’s most prestigious palace, the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel.

  Sipping from our freshly brewed mugs of tea, Tobias and I sat on the floor of the spare bedroom sitting side by side, silently admiring its profoundness.

  I’d propped up the Vermeer and da Vinci’s sketch on either side of this tour de force, leaning their frames against the wall.

  “You have a Michelangelo?” Tobias shook his head in disbelief.