Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1)

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Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1) Page 34

by Carolyn Anthony


  “What do you want, sugar—hand or mouth?”

  “Mmm—”

  “That feeling you’re having right now, that ache you need me to take care of, own it, baby.” I intentionally drew out the circles, running two fingers along the side of her lips on either side of her cleft, building the tension. “Tell me.”

  “Mouth,” she whispered into her arm. “Please. I want your mouth.”

  Splitting her lips wide, I flicked my cold tongue over the top of her sensitive clit.

  Her back lunged off the table, her whole body shaking, trying to adapt to the cold on the hottest part of her. Her hands flew into my hair, stroking it, before she bunched it in her fists. “So . . . so cold. You’re tongue’s freezing.” Her teeth began to chatter.

  “Let’s warm you up, then,” I said against her hot, slippery lips. Flattening my tongue, I licked her cleft in long deliberate sweeps, each stroke dragging a soft moan from parted lips. Her hips began to rock with me and I switched it up, circling the soft bundle of nerves with the tip.

  “Jaxxon . . . ”

  Moving my hands under her thighs, I lifted them over my shoulders and held them against the side of my face. Her inner thighs quivered against my cheeks and I put my mouth over her pussy, slipping my tongue in and out of her entrance.

  Her thighs jumped and spasmed against my face. “You ready, sugar?”

  “Yes! Please, yes.”

  There was no sweeter sound than her begging me to fuck her.

  I sucked her clit between my lips hard. She let go of my hair and covered her face, as her back arched and dropped back to the table. Moving my mouth off of her, I covered her clit with the pad of my thumb and pressed down soft.

  “Noooo . . . don’t stop,” she groaned.

  “Hold on, baby.” Dropping lower, I licked just below my thumb under her clit. When her breathing went super-fucking-sonic, I lifted my thumb, letting the blood flow back fast and sucked her sweet little bud hard.

  “Shit!” she cried out as her body convulsed. I slid two fingers deep, rubbing up against the puffy ridge of her G-spot. Her arousal coated my fingers as she shook through the orgasm.

  Before she stopped pulsing around me she bolted up from the table, and I dragged my fingers out of her body as I stood from the chair. She jammed her hands inside the elastic of my shorts and shoved them down just below my ass.

  “Please.” Her heavy eyes met mine. “Now. I need you inside me now.”

  Leaning down, I wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed my forehead against hers. “How do you want it, sugar?”

  “I—I just need to feel you.” She stretched up and brought my mouth down to hers.

  Given how oversensitive she was, I decided to slow shit down. With the trust of her tongue between my lips, I lined up at her opening and pressed home. She groaned into my mouth at my entrance. I fisted the back of her hair, holding her head to me, until I was buried deep inside what had become my fucking obsession.

  “Lay back,” I spoke against her mouth. Wedging a hand between us, I pushed until she put her hands behind her and lowered herself flat on the table. I wrapped my hands under her knees and pulled her as close to me as I could physically get her.

  Dragging my cock out, I kept my eyes on her face, on the flush of her skin, looking for a sign of discomfort. Her swollen walls clutched at my dick, pulsed all around it as she panted and stared at where our bodies connected.

  “Breathe, baby.”

  She settled down as I started to thrust slow and steady. With every penetration, I pulled her legs to me, forcing myself deeper. Once she started moving with me, I lifted both her legs to my shoulders to hold her still and pushed in a little farther, keeping the pace steady.

  Her hands flew up over her head and she anchored them on the table, giving her something to use to push into me. “You feel . . . you feel—”

  “What?” I ground out. “Say it.”

  “So good,” she gasped and pushed forward again. “I–I crave you.” She couldn’t get there. She couldn’t say the fucking words, but goddamn, I’d never had a woman this willing to take everything I wanted to give her. And I wanted to give her so much more.

  I kept one arm locked around her thighs and moved the other to her mound. Pushing my thumb through her slippery lips, I drew steady, firm circles around her saturated clit, teasing her up with me. I rubbed her faster, but rocked my cock inside her leisurely, angling the head so it hit her G-spot with each thrust. My balls tightened to the point of pain. Slow was fucking killing me, but did the job I’d hoped it would. Splayed out on my kitchen table, every move long and sensuous, she looked like a goddamned goddess.

  “Jaxx—faster. Please . . . ” She panted.

  “Nah, sweetness, you’re fine. Feel, Valentina, just fuckin’ feel.”

  With each thrust, she squeezed around me tighter, her body pulling me in deeper. Despite her pleas for me to move faster and harder, I kept the pace the same. Moving her legs back down and around my waist, I leaned over her, taking one nipple in my mouth, worshiping her with my tongue, and savoring the vanilla taste of her wet skin. The more she moaned, squirmed, and begged, the tighter my fucking balls got and it took every motherfucking ounce of willpower I had not to give into her and piston into her tight, welcoming heat.

  Sensitive from the previous orgasm, she whimpered when I ran two fingers right over the top of her unprotected clit.

  “Come, sugar.”

  “Jaxxon . . . Ohhhh—yes!” she cried and arched her back, pushing her hips into mine.

  She came so hard, a fresh flood of arousal coated my cock, and I thrusted into her deeper, harder, but still slow until my goddamned eyes crossed. “Fuck!” The tight walls of her pussy strangled my cock, milking me, and I swear to Christ, every muscle in my body spasmed. I didn’t come, I motherfucking ignited on a roar more animal than human.

  My entire world shook and went blurry. I thrust deep one last time, losing myself to the feel of her clenching muscles drawing out every last drop I had to give. “Goddamn,” I rumbled.

  Who the fuck was grounding who here?

  I collapsed on top of her and she wrapped her arms around me as soon as my chest hit hers. Warm kisses peppered the top of my head and my forehead until I lifted up enough to capture her mouth. I formed my hands around her face and leaned back enough to look at her. “I could make love to you every damn morning and night.”

  Her eyes widened and she tilted her head to stare just to the side of my face.

  I ran a finger over an eyebrow and down the slope of her neck. With a finger under her chin, I turned her head back to me and captured her lips in a soft kiss.

  “Thank you.” Her eyes jumped back and forth between mine as she caressed my face with the tips of her fingers. “I—I love—the way you are with me.”

  I sighed and kissed her forehead before pulling back, biting back words and thoughts she wasn’t ready to hear. “The feeling’s very much mutual, sugar.” Leaning down, I ran my lips down the slope of her neck.

  “Jaxxon . . . We—I—” When her eyes jumped back and forth between mine, searching for words.

  I made it easy on her. I wedged my hands under her ass and she locked her feet around my waist, her shirt caught between our stomachs. “It’s all good. All right, baby. Up. Hold on.” I lifted her and sat down in the chair, still buried deep inside her warm body. I let her sit there as long as she wanted, stroking her back, her hair, until she settled. When her breathing shifted back to a normal rhythm, I held her face away from me. “You hungry now?”

  A smile lit up her face and she nodded. “I’m starving.”

  “You sound like a dude.” I kissed her forehead and stood up with her in my arms. “Get cleaned up in my bathroom. Come out when you’re done. I’ll get shit set up in here.”

  She glanced around us and then to the counter with a small frown. “Shouldn’t we . . . ” She looked between our bodies. “Don’t you have to, ah, move?”

  I laug
hed and hugged her to me. “Yeah, but if I move right now, I’m gonna have more to clean and I’ve cleaned all fucking day. Bathroom’s easier. Hold on.”

  She gave me a quick kiss on the mouth and locked her arms around my neck.

  I walked with her wrapped tight around me into the master bathroom and set her on the sink before handing her a towel and pulling out of her with a groan. Giving her one of my T-shirts, I wrapped a towel around my waist, opened the shower door and cranked the water.

  The tension drained out of her shoulders and she smiled up at me. “Thank you. For everything. I’m not crazy about forty, but if I had to reach this age to meet you, I’ll take it.”

  “Age is a number, and you look twenty-four. Now move your ass.” I pointed to the shirt I gave her. “You’ll swim in that, so you’re covered. Take your time, baby.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking down at the shirt in her hands.

  I closed the door behind me. I chuckled at her long moan as I walked out of my room. There were side nozzles on the wall that hit your back, hips, and ass at three angles. It was a full on water massage.

  She wouldn’t stay with me tonight. Not after the episode at her house, so I had coffee ready to go. I hated the idea of her leaving on her birthday. I wanted to hold her hostage for three days, but I’d already pushed some serious emotional boundaries for her tonight.

  Truth was, I was in love with Valentina, and I knew she was in love with me. It was in the way she looked at me, said my name, every fucking thing she did for me, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Life was too short to deny something this strong, but she had to see that on her own. She needed to know it, believe it, and trust in it, and I wouldn’t keep reassuring her. There was a difference between reassuring someone you love them and expressing your love for them. I was all about expression. Reassurance spoke to insecurity and led to shit neither of us needed in our lives. She needed to trust me, and to do that, she had to admit how she felt to herself first before she could admit it to me. Good thing I was a patient motherfucker.

  40

  Valentina

  A montage of light from the television flickered as I willed my eyes open. When the warm, muscled body beneath me shifted, I used any remaining energy I had left to lift my head and came face to face with a sleepy-eyed Jaxxon. I’d fallen asleep on top of him on his couch.

  For the first time in the last two weeks, I felt rested.

  Strong fingers parted my hair and hooked it behind my ears. “Hey, you.”

  I swiveled on top of him toward the coffee table to grab my phone. 1:30 a.m. “Oh, God.” I let my head fall back down on his chest. “I’m so sorry. Did you sleep at all?”

  “No.”

  His roughened voice caused my stomach to flutter. The warmth of his hand wrapped around my nape seeped into my skin. I peeked back up at him. “What were you doing while I used you as a mattress?”

  “Enjoying the view. It’s the most peaceful I’ve seen you in a while.”

  Resting my chin on one hand, I touched his cheek with the other. “Sounds pretty boring.” I pushed up and ran my lips over his before sitting up and straddling his thighs.

  “Nah, I like watching you sleep.” He cocked his head to the side on the pillow. “You were knocked out cold. You only moved to snuggle closer.”

  “How long?” I rubbed my eyes and opened them wide, trying to get my bearings. I had to leave. I’d give anything to stay with him, but not after what I’d put him through last time.

  “Two hours, give or take.”

  “What?” I swung my head back to him. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Again, peaceful.” He nodded to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” Lifting my leg over him, I scooted to the edge of the couch to let him up.

  “Got ya covered.” He sighed and stood. Holding his shoulder, he rotated it around while he walked.

  I watched him stroll into the kitchen, appreciating the sexy gait he had. He never hurried. He just . . . strolled. Jaxxon speed, I called it. And what a sight to behold.

  Strong, muscled thighs led to a firm, toned ass and up to my second favorite part of his anatomy, his back. He had the most beautiful back and upper body. The expanse of him from shoulder to shoulder had to be at least three feet of nothing but rock hard muscle and raw power.

  Before he reached the actual kitchen, he turned to me and caught me gawking at him.

  His sexy laugh went straight between my thighs. “Sugar, you eye-fuckin’ me?”

  “What! No . . . ” I sat up straighter and pulled the hem of his t-shirt down.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what you were doin’.” He leaned a hip against the counter with a cocky smirk.

  “Well, I wasn’t. I was—watching you walk.” Because it’s hot as hell.

  “That right? Look all you want, baby, but say the word and I’ll deliver the real thing.”

  I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open when he shook his head at me and chuckled. “You have a great walk. What? Sue me.”

  “Just the walk, huh?”

  “Just the walk.”

  “All right, then. Coffee comin’ up.” He winked before turning around to the coffee pot. “Bullshit, just the walk.” He grinned, before nodding down the hall. “Go. I’ll get this ready.”

  With a long exhale, I pushed off the couch and walked down the hall to his room to get my clothes and purse. If I sat there ogling him any longer, I’d be here all night, and he wasn’t joking. The man had the stamina of a damned triathlete when it came to sex.

  The overwhelming urge to cry hit me when I thought about how beautifully he’d made love to me earlier, because that’s exactly what it had been. I’d almost told him I loved him three different times. I wanted to scream it. The unsaid words were a constant weight I carried around. What I felt had been more than casual, since the first kiss, no matter what I told myself.

  I’d been so good up until that night. Nothing I couldn’t handle. But then I’d asked him to stay, and I had the one memory I’d been afraid of—the one where I experienced what should have been my death. So how did we work?

  Since the night he’d stayed, I’d had it again. All of them, again. One worse than the other, more details coming each time. I had my own Freddy Krueger, except my monster had been real.

  Was I being selfish staying with him? Not tonight. I’d think about it tomorrow. He’d made tonight beautiful.

  When I finally walked back into the family room and down the stairs to the den, two cups of coffee sat on the table.

  Next to a black velvet box.

  He sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his blue baseball hat turned backwards. When he heard me enter, he looked at me then nodded to the cup. “Stronger than fuck, Stevia and that coconut-flavored creamer crap—all you, baby.”

  I dropped my bag into his giant chair and moved to stand beside him. “You bought me coconut creamer?”

  “It appears so, which means you better get your ass back here in the morning, because I won’t drink that shit.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Sit.”

  I continued to stand. “Thank you for buying my creamer.” I ran a hand through his thick ponytail. When he looked up at me, I nodded to the box and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  He chuckled up at me. “Nothing to get worked up about, Sparky.”

  Like he hadn’t done enough? “I told you not to get me anything, Jaxx. You’ve already done too much. My office. Helping me train. Dinner.” I waved a hand at the couch. “Letting me use you as the best bed ever. You didn’t have to do this. You . . . being with you is enough.”

  Sharp golden green eyes drilled into mine. “This is different.”

  Rick had been the king of gifts—he never missed birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. Always with the over-the-top gifts that never required much thought. Generic, yet expensive to elicit attention, which of course stroked his ego. All diversions.

  I hated j
ewelry as a rule. Jewelry should mean something—like wedding rings. But that had been a façade too.

  The fact that I was once again staring at a black velvet box had my stomach twisting. But Jaxxon was not Rick, which made whatever was in the box much scarier, because there was genuine thought behind it. Jaxxon had nearly torn down every one of my defenses. But I needed to keep my past buried. I didn’t want it staining his life.

  The smirk that lit up his face helped quell some of my unease. “Do you always give people who give you gifts on your birthday this much shit? Sit down and drink your coffee.” He tugged the bottom of the T-shirt until I sat next to him in a huff. “You’re overthinking it, baby.”

  “Too much.” I shook my head at him. “I asked you not to do this.”

  “Stop.” He picked up the cup and handed it to me. “Drink. I need you awake to drive.”

  “Oh, I’m awake. You don’t listen to me.” I took a sip from the steaming cup. Perfect. He knew exactly how I liked it. “That’s spectacular. Thank you.”

  “Yeah,” he snickered. “Wasn’t hard. Half a cup of creamer, Stevia, and a touch of the strong stuff. We seriously need to work on your creamer addiction. Coffee shouldn’t look like chocolate milk.” Turning the bill of his hat back around, he grabbed his own cup and leaned back against the cushion, shutting off the television. “And I always listen to you.”

  Little static-like tingles shimmied up my arms, across my breasts to tease at my nipples, all signs his eyes were on me. My body, traitorous blight, heated around him as if I hadn’t seen him in months.

  We sat in silence, drinking coffee as I snuggled under his arm.

  He pressed his warm lips against my forehead. “So are you gonna just stare at it or open the fuckin’ thing?”

  I put the cup on the table and curled into him. He wrapped around me, holding me against him. “Can I sit here a minute, please?”

  “All night, sugar . . . but I know you won’t.” The last part had come out softer than the first, laced with disappointment.

 

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