He took over the kissing as he usually did, just the way she loved. The kisses changed, intensifying, his grip on her softening, becoming the opening forays to pleasure. Sandwiched together as they were, with her mound poised and ready, she knew the instant he hardened with need.
“Looks like someone’s got it in them after all,” she joked.
He laughed, and it was wonderful to hear. “Not yet,” he said, “but she will. If you can forgo the drawing of a card, I think this is a good time for one of the sheik’s side-by-side positions, the twenty-first manner.”
She mentally ran through the sundry positions mentioned in The Perfumed Garden. That’s the one called love’s fusion, right?”
“A poetic name, but it’s a very intimate position. Basically what we’re doing right now without the fireworks.”
“I personally see fireworks every time we’re together.”
“Then let’s see if we can keep the streak alive.” He hooked his hand under her knee, guiding her upper leg until it rested high along his flank. Then he thrust his upper leg between her thighs, positioning his cock at her entrance. He slid his hand between their bodies, his questing fingers stroking over her clit before sinking into her waiting sheath.
She stuttered out a sigh of pleasure against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip as he tested her readiness to take him. The hour she’d waited for him to return home after saying he wasn’t going to see her had been pure torture, making her unsure of where she stood with him. This, right here, right now, told her more than words could that he did want her, did need her. It righted her world, put her back on secure footing, made her want him even more.
He gave her what she needed, rubbing the head of his erection along the moist opening of her slit before slowly and surely pushing his way inside. She felt every inch of his sensual invasion, her breath catching as ripples of pleasure rolled through her.
They paused when he was as deep as he could go, their bodies adjusting to the sensation of being bared to each other. This moment, this intimate interaction was different from everything that had come before. She knew it, and knew Kane realized it too. This time it wasn’t just about hitting the peak. It was much more than that. They’d reached a new level of intimacy physically and emotionally, and the position Kane had chosen was the perfect expression of that.
She entwined her arms about his neck, opening herself to him fully. He swept his tongue inside her mouth as they began to move together, advancing, retreating, advancing again, their tongues mimicking their actions below. Kane didn’t seem to be in a mood to hurry and neither was she, savoring the feel of their bodies gliding together.
“Nadia,” he whispered against her lips, his strokes still slow and deep, the root of his cock bumping her clit with every thrust. “You knew exactly what I needed, and you gave it to me. Thank you for pulling me back. Thank you for not taking no for an answer.”
“Thank you for letting me in,” she answered, tears pricking her eyes as the emotion of the moment began to overwhelm her. “Thank you for giving me what I needed.”
There was no talking after that, just the meeting of mouths and bodies. Kane slid his hands down her back, his fingers delving into the cleft of her buttocks, teasing at her rear entrance. Remembering how she’d confided her fantasy of him taking her there made her even slicker for him, Before the weekend ended, she would realize that fantasy. She knew Kane would see to it.
“Kaname.” Her breath quickened as the urge to come rose within her, stirred by his finger at her puckered opening, the root of his cock bumping her slit, his length hitting all the right spots inside her, the kisses that always made her light-headed. Her inner muscles quaked around him, heightening the passion. Like bodysurfing, she allowed the wave of pleasure to sweep her up and carry her away.
She broke with a low moan against his open mouth, arms and legs and body tightening around him. He groaned as her inner muscles milked his orgasm from him, grinding against her, fingers digging deep as he flooded her sheath. The sensation, so wonderful, so intimate, surprised another smaller orgasm from her.
She sighed as the perfection of the moment washed over her. Kane continued to hold her close, sharing soft kisses with her, apparently not ready to pull away. That was perfectly all right with her. In fact, everything was perfectly all right, as long as Kane was with her.
With a soft smile curving her lips and Kane still joined with her, Nadia fell into a worry-free sleep.
—
Kane awakened to the scent and softness of his woman draped across him, sound asleep. He breathed in deeply then released it, the last of the tension of LA leaving his system.
Nadia didn’t realize what a gift she was to him. Seeing her outside his door after the shitty weekend in Los Angeles, after going to her house and not finding her there, had filled him with relief so strong it had nearly buckled him. She’d sent him reeling through a landslide of emotions—relief, anger, lust, and a bone-deep need—that ripped at his control and shook him to his core. Then she’d opened her arms, her body and, he wanted to believe, her heart to him, and it had been like seeing sunshine after days of darkness.
He wanted more. More of her warmth, her sunshine, her body and her surrender. More of her laughter, her sighs, her moans of completion. He wanted more than drawing names of sexual positions out of a bag, more than exploration for exploration’s sake. He wanted everything, but something told him that Nadia held something back.
He knew it had something to do with her time in Los Angeles, something that made her reluctant to return to the city. Something that had to do with her drug addiction and recovery. She’d told him that he could find out everything he wanted to know with a good online search, but that wasn’t the way he wanted to learn Nadia’s secrets. He wanted her to trust him enough, trust them enough, to share them.
Maybe he could help things along by researching drug addiction and recovery. Surely Narcotics Anonymous had information for partners and loved ones. He thought briefly about asking Siobhan or Nadia’s parents, but didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to do anything that would make Nadia take two steps back when he wanted to move their relationship forward.
He reached for his phone to check the time, and found a sticky note stuck to the front. Squinting, he made out Nadia’s handwriting. Something else for you to look at.
Curious, he thumbed the phone to active. His background image had been changed to an image of Nadia smiling softly, wearing one of his shirts. Something tightened in his chest as he navigated to the gallery. There he found a slew of new photos, all of them of Nadia, all of them taken the night before. Blowing him a kiss. Looking over her shoulder. The shirt sliding off one breast. Making funny faces. Soft and seductive. And then one of her lying next to him as he slept.
His hand shook as the returned the phone to the nightstand. She’d done this for him, in response to the horrors he’d seen in his consultant case. Images infinitely better to look at, images that soothed his soul and lightened his heart. That was the moment that he realized that he was in love with Nadia Spiceland. And maybe she was falling for him too.
TWENTY-ONE
“What do you want to do today?” Kane asked.
Nadia leaned back against him, settling deep into the steaming water. “I’m doing it,” she said. “This soaking tub is absolutely decadent.”
“I agree, especially since mine comes with my own personal water nymph.” He drizzled water across her shoulders with a natural sponge. “I’m pretty sure there are hazards to soaking in water all day though, considering we don’t want to become human stew.”
“There is that. I thought you’d have the weekend all planned out.”
“I have some suggestions.” He cupped her breasts. “Beginning with christening every room and horizontal surface in this condo.”
“I hope that means that you have vitamins and extra tea on hand
, so I can keep up with you.”
“I’ll be sure to schedule plenty of rest breaks for you.” He stood, stepping out of the tub before turning and helping her out. “I do have to go shopping for the ingredients to make the ramen.”
“Ooh!” She bounced with excitement as she dried herself off. “You’re making the ramen this weekend? Can you share the process with me or has your mother made you swear to never share her recipe?”
“Tomorrow.” He eyed her as she toweled dry. “And you can certainly help me make it. But if you keep moving like that, we won’t make it out of the house, and we’ll be forced to order pizza or something.”
She tucked the towel around herself. “I’ll be good.”
“I know you will,” he said, following her into the bedroom. He’d cleared out a drawer for her in the low-slung dresser, but when she veered toward it, he took her hand and led her over to his walk-in closet. “You won’t need any clothes while we’re inside,” he told her. “I have a better idea for you. Lose the towel.”
The obvious command in his tone made her perfectly aware that the dynamic had shifted with the rising of the sun. Conscious of his hungry gaze, she stepped back, then reached for the end of the large bath sheet tucked into her cleavage. She loosened the knot then let the towel billow to her feet. Naked, bared completely, she stood before him, shoulders back, hands on hips, secure in her skin because she could see the approval in his eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his tone reverent and intense. “And you’re mine.”
The sheer possessiveness of his words sent a shiver through her. This was a man. Everyone before him had been a boy, inexperienced in discovering what a woman wanted, uncovering what a woman needed. Not Kane. She wanted to be possessed by him. Not owned, but claimed in a soul-deep way that left no doubt, no hesitation, only unadulterated pleasure.
“Kaname,” she whispered, the longing clear in her tone.
“While you’re here, I want you to wear this.” He reached into the closet and drew out a beautiful robe of burgundy silk embroidered with gold and white lotus flowers and gilded cranes.
“Oh, Kaname,” she whispered as he helped her put it on but didn’t tie the sash. “It’s beautiful. You should take some pictures of me in this. That way, if staring at work photos gets too bad, you can flip through your phone and look at my pictures instead.”
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “You already gave me a few of those, wearing my shirt.”
“I know, but a couple more of me wearing this or the harem girl outfit wouldn’t be bad.”
“You would let me do that?”
She nodded. “If it makes you happy, that would make me happy too. Just password-protect your phone. And for the love of all things sexy, don’t send them to anyone else.”
“I won’t.” Possessiveness lit his eyes. “No one gets to look at you like that but me. Now hold your hand out.”
When she did, he reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a glittering length of gold chain. At each end dangled an intricate-looking clamp. He dropped the chain into her palm, and her breath stuttered as she took in the rubberized tips and realized what they were for. Her nipples pebbled instantly, without him having to touch them. But she knew that he would.
“I love your breasts, how sensitive they are,” he murmured to her. “I love how your nipples get hard when you’re thinking about me, thinking about sex. You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you? Thinking about my hands cupping your breasts, my mouth sucking on your nipples. Thinking about how it will feel when I put this on you.”
“Yes,” she gasped, light-headed with lust as moisture gathered between her thighs. “Yes, please.”
He parted her robe then cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking over the distended tips, causing her to moan softly. “I have more presents I want to give you,” he murmured, his voice soothing and exciting her at the same time. “You’ll get them little by little, after we see how you handle these. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“I’m not!” she gasped out, squeezing her thighs together. “I won’t be overwhelmed.”
He gave her an indulgent smile. “We’ll see. Because you’ll wear these for the rest of the day.”
Then he leaned down, taking one of her nipples into the warmth of his mouth. She groaned loudly, gripping his shoulders to prevent herself from falling over. The man had a talented mouth. Talented hands. Hell, he was talented, period. Nadia had never had a lover pay attention to her reactions with such a single-minded purpose as Kane did. It made her feel special, important. As if her pleasure was more important than his own. It made her even more determined to give him pleasure in return.
When his teeth lightly closed down on her, she yipped. He immediately soothed the sting with his tongue but when he would have moved away, she clamped her fingers into his hair. “It didn’t hurt,” she assured him. “Not in a bad way.”
“Good.” He straightened. “Are you ready for your gift?”
It took her a moment to catch her breath “Yes.”
Caught in a sensual daze, Nadia watched Kane’s nimble fingers glide over her nipple, plumping it to near-painful stiffness before taking the chain from her hand and gently attaching and tightening the tweezerlike clamp. Her automatic hiss slid down into a moan as the pain quickly became pleasure. He looped the filigree chain about her neck before draping it down to her other breast and repeating the process. Enough length remained in the chain to drape between her breasts, making her wonder what it would feel like if he tugged on it.
He stepped back. Only then did she remember to breathe, the deep inhale lifting her breasts. Appreciation lit the dark depths of his gaze. “What do you think, sweet Nadia? Be honest.”
She had to struggle to remember how to form words. “I think . . . I think I’m wet.”
He cocked his head. “You think? You aren’t sure?”
She shook her head, licking her lips. “Maybe you should check,” she suggested. “See if I’m fibbing or not.”
He immediately stepped forward again, his long fingers cupping her mound. She bit back a moan even as she thrust her hips forward, wanting his hand, needing his fingers inside her. He obliged her silent entreaty, two fingers easily sliding into her core.
“Damn, Nadia,” he breathed against her mouth. “That’s the look I want a picture of in my phone.”
“What look is that?”
“Your desire. Looking at the way your eyes go all hazy with lust and your skin flushes makes me wish I could paint. Though I seriously doubt I’d ever be able to fully capture your passion with something so mundane as oil or watercolors.”
She could get drunk on his words alone, so heady did he make her feel. She nipped at his bottom lip, groaning as her clamped nipples brushed against the soft material of her robe. She could feel her orgasm stirring, rising up from deep inside her, sensations buffeting her in a sensual storm.
As if sensing how close she was, Kane pulled his fingers away. “Not yet,” he admonished, then nearly undid her by licking his fingers. “You’re not on the edge yet. You still have a ways to go.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re not begging.”
She arched a brow at him. “You think you can make me beg?”
He smiled down at her, such a masculine smile that her pussy clenched in response. “Yes.”
“Do you . . .” She licked her lips. “You said you want me to wear these all day?”
“Just about,” he said again. He hooked his index finger onto the chain dangling between her breasts, giving it a slight tug. She gasped. “I’ll adjust them so that they’re not too tight. I want you to be aware of them when we go out.”
“Ah . . .” Lust clogged her throat. “Out?”
“Yes.” Another tug. “You’ll wear this and that pretty sundress when we go shopp
ing later. And shoes of course, but that’s it.”
No bra, no panties. Her mouth dried. Somehow she’d have to go out with Kane and attempt to act natural while nearly naked and continuously aroused. She was so hot for it, for him, that the lust made her drunk. His intent of having sex all weekend suddenly seemed deliciously possible.
She looked down, noticing the tenting in the towel draped low on Kane’s hips. “Is that one of my presents?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“Oh yes,” she breathed. “I want to have you in my mouth.”
The towel twitched as he hardened more. “For all of the detailed advice the sheik provides in The Perfumed Garden, he makes no mention of the joys to be had from oral or anal sex. Those aren’t the only things he was mistaken about, but they are the worst, in my opinion.”
“I agree with you,” she said, her voice soft as she gazed up at him, her nipples hard and tight between the clamps, her sex empty and aching. “It’s amazingly intimate and requires huge amounts of trust. But it’s also a power exchange because one partner is focused on giving physical pleasure to the other, but there’s also power in being able to control another’s pleasure like that.”
“Is that what you want to do, Nadia?” he asked as he stared at her. “Do you want to control my pleasure?”
Oh God, yes. She could feel her clit throbbing painfully between her legs. “Yes, please.”
He walked over to the edge of the platform bed, stopping beside two black floor cushions. “Kneel,” he commanded softly.
She dropped to her knees on the thick pillow as he stood in front of her, stance wide, feet planted on the smooth hardwood floor. She could see his erection bulging against the front of his towel. Her mouth watered with the need to take him, to suck him down as deeply as she could, to feel his seed spill down her throat. It was a power exchange as she knelt before him, gazing up at him submissively, yet knowing she could control his pleasure, make him come hard this way, made her feel invincible.
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