by Wylde, Tara
After what seems like forever, I finally pull away from him, knowing that if I don’t, I won’t be able to hold off my climax if I let him keep going. He responds by standing while I take my own place on my knees in front of him .
“And hello to you, too,” I say as his cock throbs at my touch .
The hardness and softness and heat of his shaft combine into a single, thrilling sensation in my mouth. Nick’s fingers tangle in my hair as I take more of him, until I can’t go any farther. His moans spur me into more action, bobbing up and down while my hand grips the base and tugs gently .
“Do you like that?” I gasp, looking up at him .
“Yes,” he pants. “So much. But we have to slow down .”
It’s so good to know that I push him to the edge as much as he pushes me. I stand up and Nick wraps his arms around me again, lifting me and carrying me to the bed, where he lays me on my back on the soft, ancient cotton of the antique coverlet .
My senses are reeling at the warmth of his touch, at the feel of the bed, the sight of this huge, opulent suite, so different from the tiny bedrooms I’ve had in my life. And Nick’s loving arms, so strong and safe after all those years of uncertainty and chaos. My heart swells, overwhelmed by the joy of it all .
“Are you okay?” he whispers as he lies down beside me .
I nod, trying to hold in the tears. “So much better than okay .”
We kiss and hold each other, our hearts beating against the other’s chest, his fingers stroking me tenderly between my legs until the heat becomes unbearable. I’m practically dripping with anticipation .
“I can’t take it anymore,” I sigh, opening myself to him. “I want you inside me. Now .”
Nick reaches into the drawer of the night table next to the bed and produces a small square, tearing it open with his teeth .
“Can I?” I ask .
His eyes flash with naked lust as he hands me the condom. His eyes close with pleasure as I apply it to the tip of his cock and roll it slowly, sensuously down to the base of his stiff shaft. It bobs appreciatively in my hand .
“You’re sure?” he asks, kneeling between my open legs .
“I’ve never wanted anything so badly .”
Nick lowers himself down with those powerful arms until his face is hovering above mine. He kisses me softly as the tip of him touches my opening. My fingers clench around his neck as he gently slides the rest of himself inside .
My eyes go wide as the sensation of agony and ecstasy at the same time makes me gasp. I feel Nick start to pull away and I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his hips .
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please .”
The pain is exquisite, but soon it’s over, replaced by the sensation of being filled . Then Nick starts to move, and things get even better. He ends each slow stroke with a kiss on my lips. Once, twice, three times. Each time is better than the last, until the rhythm starts to catch and I start to feel a deep thrill with each thrust .
My eyes lock on his in the dim light of the bedroom lamp and my fingers entwine around the back of his neck .
“Is it good?” I ask .
“It’s heaven,” he pants .
Suddenly the closeness, the intimacy between us, makes me feel brave, just as it did that afternoon in the pool. With that confidence comes a newfound hunger deep inside. I want more of him, all of him. And I’m not afraid to ask for it .
“I want you to fuck me hard, Nick,” I growl. “Give it to me. All of it .”
His eyes go wide at my dirty talk, which makes me even wetter. Who knew confidence could be such a turn-on ?
He props himself up on his hands as I raise my hips to meet his thrusts, and soon we’ve got a matching rhythm of passion that becomes more and more effortless as we build toward release. In all my fantasies, I never thought it could be this good, this right .
Even as I see the ecstasy on Nick’s face, I feel the gathering storm in his shaft inside me. I let myself go, so happy that I’ve made him feel that deep pleasure, that indescribable joy that he’s given me .
With one final, deep plunge, he explodes as our bodies convulse together with passion and pleasure. I pull his head close to me and kiss him with all my waning strength before I finally collapse backward onto the bed .
Nick lies on top of me, holding himself up with those steel-cable arms, panting in my ear. I grip him tighter with my legs, not wanting him to leave me .
“Storm,” he whispers. “It was… it was …”
“I know,” I sigh. “Everything I hoped it would be, and so much more .”
We lay like that for a long time, feeling each other’s skin, kissing and nuzzling, just feeling each other. For the first time in my life, I feel like everything is right with the world. That everything is going to be okay .
I know that might just be the afterglow talking, but I want to believe it. And I think Nick does, too, the way he’s holding on to me .
But the human body can only take so much, unfortunately, and I finally unwrap my legs as he slides out of me. I can’t hide a little pout as he withdraws, but my mind is already on the next time, when it will be even better .
Nick rolls onto his side and I snuggle into the crook of his shoulder. His massive fingertips stroke my belly and breasts with an amazingly delicate touch, considering their size and the roughness he’s developed from years of martial arts training .
“Well,” I whisper. “I definitely can’t go back to my own room after that. I don’t think my legs would carry me to the door .”
“Good,” he says. “I wouldn’t let you, anyway .”
“Is that right, Mr. Tough Russian? How would you stop me ?”
He presses the heel of his palm against my groin, prompting an unexpected shiver of excitement I wouldn’t have thought possible so soon after finishing .
“Okay,” I gasp. “That’s enough to keep me here .”
He grins .
“I like it when you smile,” I whisper .
“You make me smile .”
We lie there in comfortable silence for a while. I look around the room, wondering if he truly wants me to move in here with him. A few weeks ago, I was living in a broken-down flat in Newark. Now I live here .
It’s like a fairy tale. Sure, the prince is a grim, bearded Russian with attack dogs, but it’s still a fairy tale .
As if reading my mind, I hear a scratching at the door .
“That’s either the dogs or Chad is trying to find the bathroom,” I whisper .
Nick chuckles as he climbs out of bed and pads to the door. The dogs amble in as he opens it and lie down on the rug in the center of the room .
“I’ve been spoiling them since you showed up,” he says. “They’ve never even tried to come into my bedroom before .”
I grin. “Then you’re about to be really angry,” I say as I pat the coverlet .
Samson and Delilah leap onto the bed and cover my face with kisses, making me giggle like a little girl .
Nick shakes his head, but he’s smiling in spite of himself .
“Years of training and discipline down the drain,” he sighs, joining us on the bed .
“Are you talking about them or you ?”
He turns to face me with an incredulous look .
“That is it ,” he scowls. “You’re going over my knee right now .”
“Finally!” I hoot, turning over to show him my ass .
He gives it a playful little smack, which gets Delilah riled up. She leans in and licks his nose, making him grimace .
We fuss over the dogs for a few minutes before Nick finally orders them off the bed and takes his place by my side. We pull up the covers and snuggle in together, allowing me to build up enough courage to ask the question that I can’t get out of my head .
“So you want me to stay in this room?” I ask nervously. “I’m being serious now .”
He looks me in the eye. “Yes, I do. And I’m being serious, too .”
&
nbsp; His answer is a relief and yet frightening at the same time. So many things have happened over the last few weeks that it’s hard to process it all .
“All right, then,” I say. “If you’re sure there’s enough room .”
He snorts a laugh, which makes me smile .
“I think we can make do,” he says. “I’ll give you three of the five wardrobes. How does that sound ?”
“I don’t have enough clothes to fill one of them .”
“We should fix that. Maybe tomorrow, after we feed our guests breakfast .”
Our guests. The thought still gives me the warm fuzzies. And yet I can’t help but feel like the other shoe is going to drop. I guess that’s what happens when you live almost your whole life under the gun .
“I don’t feel right having you buy me everything,” I say. “I should get a job .”
“You already have a job. You’re my piano teacher .”
I give him a sardonic grin. “A real job. I should pay my own way .”
“What else am I going to spend my money on?” he asks. “Besides, someone with your talent should be performing .”
As always, thinking about performing brings a little twinge of shame .
“Maybe,” I say .
“You must have played for people before. It would have been a crime if you didn’t .”
I turn to face him. “So you’re saying it’s time we started talking more about ourselves ?”
“Only if you want to .”
I sigh. “Okay, I guess. What do you want to know ?”
Nick takes my chin in his hand and pulls me in for a kiss. I sigh as my heart swells at his touch. Finally, he pulls back and looks me in the eye .
“Let’s start with your name,” he says .
Chapter Forty-Nine
2 1. STORM
Up to this moment, I’ve never really thought about how quickly I got used to being called Storm. How quickly I got used to everything about this new life – Nick, the house, the dogs. The simple life where I don’t have to worry about everything all of the time .
“Jessica,” I say. “My name is Jessica Armstrong .”
Nick frowns. “You don’t look like a Jessica. I’ll stick with Storm .”
“I’m glad. I like it much better .”
“So now I know your name, that you’re from Arkansas, and you’re a brilliant musician .”
“And that I got tangled up with Arkady Volkov,” I say bitterly .
“That, too .”
“Do you want to know how that happened ?”
“Only if you want to tell me .”
Who is this man? How can someone go through life the way he does, not questioning, just accepting? He has more in common with Samson and Delilah than he does with other people. What could I possibly have done in my miserable little life to deserve someone like him ?
“I honestly don’t know where to start,” I say .
“At the beginning?” he offers .
I laugh and shake my head. “Trust you to cut through the bullshit. Okay. I was born in Sweetwater, Arkansas to a couple of farm laborers .”
Nick nods. “There you go .”
“We never had much. Lived in a little wartime house on the outskirts of town so we could be close to my parents’ work .”
My stomach knots at the memory. “The only heat came from a woodstove in the kitchen. We would have been evicted if we’d actually had to pay rent, because Mom and Dad spent pretty much every non-working moment getting monumentally drunk .”
“When did you start playing piano?” Nick asks .
That’s a better memory .
“In school,” I say. “We took music in class and my teacher, Miss Sidley, had me try out the piano. I took to it like a duck to water. She ended up giving me a little Casio keyboard so I could practice at home, because she knew we didn’t have any money .”
I squeeze his hand. “It was the most generosity anyone ever showed me, until I met you .”
“So you practiced .”
I nod. “And I got good. Really good. Pretty soon I was reading music and memorizing entire songs. Music was the only thing that ever made me feel like I had any control at all .”
“When did you start performing ?”
I close my eyes, willing myself to stay calm as I conjure the memories .
“When I was twelve,” I say. “I played at a county fair. My teacher had invited a music professor from Little Rock to come watch me, and he put me in touch with someone in New York who said I was a prodigy and that I needed to move there .”
Nick beams at me. “A prodigy? That’s amazing .”
“Not exactly,” I say, staring up at the canopy over the bed. “My parents saw it as their chance to get out of Arkansas. A private music academy offered a scholarship, which was just enough to cover a shitty little apartment in Jersey. I started taking the train into Manhattan for private lessons every day, all while being home-schooled. Except my parents’ idea of home-schooling was getting hammered while I read text books .
“My tutor at the academy wasn’t much better. She was a bitter old bitch who didn’t have the natural talent to make it as a pianist herself, so she became a teacher. She drilled the lessons into me and humiliated me whenever I didn’t measure up to what she wanted .”
“I’m sorry,” Nick says. “No child should have to go through that .”
His sympathy is almost enough to bring me to tears. No one’s been on my side since Miss Sidley gave me my Casio all those years ago .
“After a year or so, my tutor started booking performances at concert halls around Manhattan. Pretty soon I had an agent and was making real money at it. That’s why Chad recognized me tonight .”
Nick blinks. “He what ?”
“Not totally,” I say. “But he must have seen me perform during that time .”
“Mm.” He nods. “So you were on your way as a musician. What happened next ?”
I smile bitterly. “My parents discovered heroin .”
We lie there in silence for a while before Nick finally says, “That sucks .”
“Yeah,” I say. “Pretty soon all the money from my performances was going up their noses, then later into their veins. Even though I was working with some of the world’s most prestigious symphonies, we were still living in that shitty apartment, flat broke .”
“And no one would help ?”
“I never told anyone,” I say, on the verge of tears again. “I was ashamed. Everyone always wondered why my folks never came to the performances. It was because I never told them where I’d be playing, for fear that they actually might show up. Not that they cared, as long as the checks kept coming in .
“Then one night, they did come. It was at a private party for some rich patron of the arts in the Hamptons. I honestly don’t know how they found out about it, or how they got there. They stumbled around telling everyone I was their little girl, that I was their pride and joy, oh, and by the way, anyone got any smack ?
“After that, the calls stopped coming. I was eighteen and my career was over .”
“What did you do ?”
“I left a month after that final gig, with just the clothes on my back.” I give him a wan smile. “Kind of like you leaving Russia .”
“Except you didn’t have anyone to help you,” he says .
“No. I managed to scrape by, teaching piano and waiting tables. For a couple of years, it was okay. I made enough to rent a room in Queens, feed myself. The whole time I never spoke to my parents .”
Nick nods, frowning .
“Let me guess,” he says. “That was until they tracked you down to tell you they were in debt to a Russian drug dealer .”
My face glows with heat at the shame of the memory. “I don’t know how they survived without my money all that time; maybe they worked for Arkady. I wouldn’t be surprised if my mom was prostituting herself. All I know is that suddenly they owed $50,000 and I was the only chance they had of getting sq
uare .”
“Why didn’t you send them away?” Nick asks. “You didn’t owe them anything .”
I bite my lip as hot, shameful tears begin to course down my face .
“They’re the only people I had,” I say. “They said they were sorry for everything, that they were trying to make a fresh start. I believed them because I wanted it to be the truth .”
“But it wasn’t .”
I shake my head. “Two weeks after I worked out my arrangement with Arkady, they disappeared. Somehow they’d managed to keep the apartment in Jersey, so I ended up living there while I worked at the strip club. I haven’t heard from them since .”
We lie there in silence again, holding each other, breathing, not sleeping. Not surprisingly, Nick doesn’t have anything to say, so I continue .
“Then everything that I told you about Arkady happened. And that was when you found me on the boat. That’s the end of the story .”
“You’re wrong,” Nick says, kissing my forehead. “That’s the beginning of the story. And we’re still in the first chapter .”
I managed to compose myself while I was talking, and I’ll be damned if I let a line like that set me off blubbering again. I’ve got a better idea for working out my feelings, and not just the ones in my heart .
“Do you have another one of those little packages?” I ask, reaching under the covers for his member and giving it a squeeze. He responds instantly to my touch .
“Yes,” he gasps. The fact that I’ve caught him off guard makes me smile .
“Then get it. Tonight’s lesson isn’t over yet .”
Chapter Fifty
2 2. NICK
We lie on top of the coverlet, chests heaving, feeling the sweet summer breeze flowing in through the window to dry our glistening skin .
“That was…” I begin .
“Even better,” Storm finishes with a heavy sigh .
I sneak the hand that’s not holding hers down to the outside of my thigh and give myself a discreet pinch. Hurts. Good. That means I’m not going to wake up and find this was all a dream .
