by Natasha Tate
Just once. With him.
She’d waited so long.
“Just let me—” He broke off as her fingers rose to trace the harsh ridge of his jaw, the bristly contours of his chin. Frozen beneath her touch, his agitated breath buffeted the tips of her fingers as she gingerly brushed his parted lips.
Reveling in her ability to distract him and relishing the exquisite rush of arousal, Cate drew out the anticipation, slowly running her fingers along the lean lines of his face, up to his brow and the cool strands of his thick, wavy hair. She reacquainted herself with the shape of his skull, the curve of his nape, the resilient strength of his neck.
It felt like a homecoming, for whether she wished it or not, her body remembered his with undeniable clarity. She wanted to chart every inch of his skin, to test her memory against the changes that time had wrought. She wanted to taste him, lick the salt from his flesh and bury her nose in the scented cove at the base of his throat. Heated lust, thick and humid and voracious, poured off her in dizzying waves, urging her to forget all the reasons that being with Ethan was so dangerous.
She sucked in a breath and dropped her hands back to his shoulders, imagining the sleek cords of muscle and satiny skin beneath the formal layers of cotton and wool. Wild, reckless and consumed by her own risky daring, she allowed her hands to glide to his back and then lower, lower and lower still, until with a subtle twist of wrist, her fingertips pressed delicately against the curve of his buttocks. He responded immediately, grinding his groin against hers and shoving her bodily against the door.
Excitement tore through her, her nerves tingling at the press of his hot, tensile length against her concealed flesh. Memories of his swollen hardness against her belly, of his mouth against her breasts, had her virginal flesh swelling with wet, aching, frustrated need.
“Ethan …” she murmured on a pleading moan.
His breath escaped on a hiss and then his hands dropped to her shoulders. He lowered his head, his mouth brushing her eyelids, her cheeks and her lips with a softness borne of exquisite control. His ability to sip when she wanted him to devour frustrated her, and she squirmed to get closer.
Ever in control, he skirted her advances, his mouth coasting from one side of her jaw to the other. He tarried for just a moment at her mouth, then continued his exploration down her neck and back up to the sensitive lobe of her ear. Blindly, she turned to catch his mouth, craving the full pressure of his lips against hers. He relented, slowly, claiming her by agonizing increments and eliciting a raw whimper of pleasure when he finally sank his mouth fully against hers.
Limp with relief, Cate opened to him, welcoming the questing demands of his tongue. He tasted her aggressively, probing her mouth with a poignant, practiced skill that eradicated her ability to think, let alone resist. The tempo of her breath turned frantic, while inner muscles tensed with delicious need. She wanted to climb his hips, to straddle him in an embrace so consuming, so deep, that his flesh became indiscernible from hers.
Heedless of the fragile tightrope of arousal she danced upon, Cate rocked against him, seeking the intimate rhythm she’d craved for as long as she’d been a woman. The thought of having him deep inside her, filling her until she could take no more, sent a rush of liquid heat between her legs and toppled her into mindless desire.
Lifting her high upon his thigh, Ethan rounded his shoulders over hers and hauled her closer. With one hand clamped under her buttocks and the other reaching low to hook behind her knee, he spread her thighs and ground the ridge of his arousal against her aching center. Back, forth, then back again, he slowly increased the pace until their labored breathing mingled into muted sounds of primal mating.
Cate moaned and squirmed, kissing him in a feverish frenzy. He returned each kiss, as if relearning all the ways their lips could fit together, his breathy groans of approval firing her need to have him deep, deep inside her. Finally. Oh, finally.
She arched against him, trying to relieve the knotted pressure in her breasts. Her tight, puckered nipples abraded his chest through her lace bra and silk dress, drawing a low growl from deep in his throat.
“Take me upstairs.” He feasted on her mouth while his fingers lifted to her breast, plucking its erect tip through silken layers. “Take me to your bed,” he breathed into her mouth.
In bed, with both of them naked, he’d see her scars. He’d see the ravages of the accident and the multiple surgeries that had saved her life. He’d either pity her or leave her, and she could bear neither. So she reached between their fused bellies, searching for his erect length. “No,” she said, pressing her palm against him as she rocked with need. “I want you now. Here.”
“Here.” His hand caught hers, stalling her exploration while his breath beat against her forehead.
“Yes.” She twisted her hand from his and dipped lower, curving her fingers around the thick base of his arousal. A fiery jolt of sensation accompanied her exploration, but she didn’t waver in her purpose, her fingers trailing over the contours of his erection.
Ethan stiffened, his efforts to remain still sending a trembling quake of reaction through his limbs.
“Cate,” he gasped as she worked the top button free and gingerly lowered the zipper. Hungrily, she reached for him, sliding her palm beneath the elastic band of his underwear. They both sucked in a shuddering inhale as she freed him from the constricting confines of skin-warmed cotton and heated wool. Trembling with excitement, Cate curled a hot grip around his thick circumference and delicately squeezed.
Growling low in his throat, Ethan surged forward, crushing her hand between them. He kissed her, his tongue delving deep while he slowly dragged her hands out to the side.
“Don’t rush,” he whispered while he bunched her skirt high enough to reveal her panties to his questing fingers. He dragged his fingers over her thighs, crouching as he slid her underwear down to her trembling ankles. His breath, hot and damp, warmed her bared stomach as he bent close to her groin. He lifted first one foot, then the other, until she was naked beneath her skirt.
Once she stood barefoot before him, she reached for him, trying to draw him back up. He succumbed to her nonverbal plea, slowly standing as her breath rent the air in choppy waves. She felt his hands slowly shifting her dress back up, bunching the delicate fabric as his hands glided over her bare skin. When he reached her waist again, he pressed her against the door, trapping the fabric between her back and the cool panel of wood.
With one hand curved over the notch of her waist, he dipped his knees and charted her bare hip and abdomen with the other wide, warm palm. She gasped when a twist of his wrist had his hot fingers cupping the damp juncture of her thighs. Heat flooded her chest and she reached to regain a bit of control. Undeterred, he snagged her hands and pressed them flat against the door at her back. She felt her core grow distressingly damp and she squirmed, trying to free her hands. “Ethan,” she panted. “Hurry.”
“Shh,” he breathed. “If you insist on doing this against a door, I’m damn well going to take my time. So stop trying to drive the train and just enjoy the ride, Catydid.”
Swallowing against a rush of nervousness, she waited obediently as he returned his hand to her inner thigh. Curling his fingers until his knuckles grazed the transition from flesh to curls, he wandered idly over the triangular thatch of heat. She sucked in a breath and tipped toward his fingers, her hands itching to guide his. But she forced herself to wait, savoring the blinding rise of excitement.
After several slow, meandering circles, he paused for a moment, then ventured lower, brushing a delicate whisper of sensation over her flesh. She jumped a little and he removed his touch, only to expertly slide both his palms down her quivering outer thighs. She whimpered at the delay and she heard his masculine huff of laughter before he leisurely detoured back up. Using one wide palm to part her legs, he returned the fingers of his other hand to the apex of her thighs. Cate felt a jolt of primal pleasure beneath his touch, at having the passions of t
his beautiful man focused solely on her.
His fingers skimmed her with aching tenderness. Her hands twitched helplessly against the door and she inhaled sharply when his fingertip danced delicately over the entrance to her body, teasing at the yielding threshold of her virginity until aching pleas of incoherent encouragement rose in her throat.
Reaching behind her, Ethan banded his arm beneath her buttocks and hauled her close. His mouth dipped to hers and soon, his kiss turned voracious, primitive and demanding, creating a blinding contrast to the tender, leisurely exploration of his gentle fingers. Bombarded with sensations too splintered to categorize, she closed her eyes on a ragged gasp and dug her nails into the door at her back.
He tormented her with wet, circling nudges, grazing and skimming and delicately exploring until she drove down against his hand with tight, clamping eagerness. Her flesh throbbed. Ached. She writhed against his palm, suspended above a chasm of release so acute she couldn’t breathe. Then he hurtled her over the edge and wrenching pleasure closed over her, obliterating thought and drowning her in great, shuddering waves of sensation.
She gasped for air, spasms rocketing through her abdomen and legs, sending a riptide of ecstasy down her limbs. After endless moments of suspended, elongated rapture, her orgasm eased into subtle ripples of satisfied completion, and a plaintive whimper escaped her lips.
Ethan gave her a final kiss, then dipped to a kneel, his hands splaying over the still-quivering cove of her stomach. The rough satin of his tongue dragged along her inner thigh, then strayed higher. Her head lolled weakly against the door and she moved a languid hand to stall further progress. “Ethan,” she said, embarrassed heat rioting through her as he knelt to inhale her musk. “Don’t …” But it was too late. His lips were already on her.
Violent trembles overtook her, and she struggled to stay upright. Shaking, she reached for his head, threading her fingers blindly through slippery strands of black silk. “Ethan,” she rasped, unable to think anything beyond his name.
His mouth sucked at her, the feathery wetness of his tongue drawing moans from her throat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, and her gasping breaths served as mindless punctuation to his silent seduction. Pleasure coiled high once more, the tension climbing in waves with every pull of his mouth.
“I can’t,” she panted, her hands twisting in his hair. “Ethan … oh, Ethan, please …”
He took pity on her desperate plea and surged to his feet. She heard the telltale snick of a condom being ripped open, felt him withdraw for the barest lapse of time as he expertly slid the lubricated latex down over his jutting length. Before she had a chance to reach for him, he’d lifted her within his arms again. One arm banded tightly about her ribs while the other wrapped beneath her buttocks. She was trapped against him, spread to his will and open to his desires.
Ethan bent to kiss her, his heated breath wafting over her lips. She felt the thick pressure of his erection, the head of his penis pushing against her vulnerable core.
The feel of her closing around him, hot and unbearably tight, seemed to drive Ethan’s urgency even higher. He surged upward while his hands against her hips drove her weight down. A fractured gasp tore from Cate’s throat as the vulnerable tissues of her body rent to accommodate his inexorable invasion. He was deep inside her and Cate tensed in pain, her fingernails digging sharply into his shoulders.
Ethan froze, the evidence of her body’s resistance finally registering beneath the thick fog of lust. He reared back in astonishment. “Tell me you’re not a virgin,” he breathed.
“I’m not a virgin,” she lied, even as residual pain hitched within her voice. To hide her reaction, she leaned forward to kiss his lips, hoping he didn’t detect the wince that tightened her mouth.
“Cate.” His hand rose to grip her jaw and he pressed her back, his breath buffeting her in the darkness.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, reaching to draw him into her arms again. “It’s all right. Just don’t stop.” She clamped him to her chest with such desperation, she couldn’t draw a breath. He was part of her now, and she couldn’t release him. Not yet. So she reclaimed him with everything at her disposal, drawing him in with a deep, rhythmic pull of her inner muscles and a tight, secure squeeze of her arms.
His resistance weakened and then, with a shuddering exhalation, he leaned to kiss her fiercely. For several long moments he kept his body still while his tongue stroked her. When she began to squirm within his arms, he began to thrust again in a slow, gentle rhythm. The tight sting of his assault relented a bit, though Cate no longer cared.
All she wanted right now was to possess Ethan, to contain his hard arousal, and to stay with him through this essential act they’d been moving toward for their entire lives.
Hissing strained breath through clenched teeth, Ethan braced his legs and pumped hard, driving deeper, pummeling the inner recesses of her body as he climbed toward release. A triumphant grunt of pleasure filled the air as he stiffened within her. His climax, hard, fierce and primal, seemed to last forever. Cate clung to his still-clothed body, dragging her open lips over his panting mouth, his whiskered chin and the salt-streaked column of his neck.
Ethan shuddered and bowed over her, holding her close for a long, endless time. Slowly, the tension in his muscles eased and he returned her to stand against the door. Her inner muscles twinged in protest and she gingerly lowered her arms to her waist as her skirt slid back down to her knees. She felt Ethan’s gaze on her silhouette, and dipped to collect her discarded underwear and shoes. She didn’t want to deal with his questions yet. Not yet. She didn’t want to think about the future. Or the past. She just wanted to burrow against his chest, curl up against his big, warm body and save their regrets for after he’d held her for a while.
But he’d already withdrawn from her, returning his clothes to order and retreating to pace tight, tense circles in the waning darkness. She watched his agitated shadow in aching silence, pressed the wad of silk and shoes against her quivering stomach, and tried not to think. Beneath the cold distance wicking the heat that had gathered between them, she felt his simmering fury begin to boil.
“Cate,” she heard him say, and his voice was low and ominous. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
She closed her eyes and dropped her head, staring through the shadows at her bare feet. “I didn’t think it was important,” she mumbled.
“Not important.” He strode to the wall of windows overlooking the beach and shoved the drapes aside with a violent, angry jerk. Dawn’s light refracted off the water, casting a nimbus of apricot and gold about Ethan’s imposing frame. He pressed a knotted fist against the glass and inhaled twice before turning back to face her. “In what universe is giving a man your virginity not important?”
When she averted her eyes, he strode back to confront her.
He gripped her jaw with tensile fingers and tipped her head back, forcing her to meet his dangerous gaze. “If you attach so little importance to the deed, how is it you’ve lasted ten years without some other man finding his way between your thighs?”
She lifted one shoulder and angled a glance beyond his furious features. “Other men desire my money, not me. I wanted to be desired for more than my benefit to their bottom line.”
“Sleeping with a man doesn’t mean you have to fund his future portfolios.”
“I didn’t say it does,” she protested. “But it is about mutual respect, and attraction, and—”
“Then why the hell did you allow me to take your virginity?” he exploded, releasing her as if he’d touched flame and then shoving his hands through his hair. “Good God, Cate, what were you thinking?”
Cate grappled for a suitable lie. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s like you said. I wanted you. You wanted me. We had unfinished business.”
“Unfinished business?” He was back, gripping her shoulders while his eyes flashed. “And you think this takes care of it?” he asked with a ba
rk of incredulous laughter. “Let me be perfectly clear, Cate Carrington. Fifteen minutes between your virginal thighs doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.”
A frisson of alarm went through her chest, turning her skin cold. “Well, fifteen minutes is all you get, Ethan. I won’t allow this to happen again.”
“The hell you won’t,” he ground out before hauling her to her toes and crushing her to his chest again. “You’ll give me everything I want, whenever and however I want it.” And then he was kissing her again, mercilessly, plying her mouth with a mastery that bespoke of domination, rather than pleasure. And though she knew it was madness to respond, to grant him any ownership of her will, Cate couldn’t keep herself from surrendering.
She didn’t have the strength to fight him, to resist the compelling draw of his mouth and hands. Before long, her shoes had again tumbled to the floor and she stood melting within his arms, succumbing to his kisses with a feverish moan.
Only after her weakness was apparent to both of them did Ethan step back. His choppy breath stirred the small hairs along her forehead as he spoke. “We’re not finished until I say we’re finished. Understood?”
“No!” Cate wrenched free of him. “We’re finished now!” She turned her back and jerked open the door, conscious of her aching muscles, of the damp stickiness between her thighs.
Terrified that he’d convince her to stay, Cate catapulted back out into the hall, blindly running from the evidence of her bad judgment. Before she’d even realized her destination, she’d escaped through a side door and bolted barefoot past the empty barn and corral, past the dismantled jumping course and arena, to the sloped beach that held too many memories of the past. Of the time before pain. Before either of them had hurt the other.
She stumbled, falling to her bare knees in the rough sand. The threat of tears burned her eyes and she rocked forward, wrapping her arms around her ribs as she relived the past few humiliating moments with Ethan. She should have seen it coming, should have heeded the warning her mind had been screaming since she’d first seen him.
