by Cherry Adair
She’d sat across from him at dinner, and Ry had spent more time watching her than he had eating. She was as much a feast for his eyes as she’d been the moment he’d first laid eyes on her three and a half years ago. He’d been starved for the sight of her for a year, and having her here with him, so close he felt the heat of her skin against his as they walked, was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to imagine after the divorce.
Being with her on Tesoro Mio was some kind of bloody miracle.
Her bare arm brushed his. Ripples of need peppered his skin, and arousal surged through his blood. Last year, he would’ve stopped her right there in the corridor. Stopped and kissed her until they were both breathless and panting. When they finally came up for air he’d sweep her up in his arms and race, half naked, to their cabin.
But not tonight.
God, he was being given a second chance. Don’t blow it, dickhead. Take it slowly.
Don’t fucking assume that invitation is coming. Don’t fucking assume anything.
“Who would’ve thought those guys had such hair-raising cases?” she laughed. “Oh, my God, I can’t even imagine finding a…”
Her amused voice wove around him like silken ropes. As she recounted the dinnertime conversation, Ry’s heart swelled with such powerful love that it almost brought him to his knees. He wanted to wind his fingers through the long tendrils of escaped hair drifting around her shoulders from her just-got-out-of-bed updo. He wanted to brush his mouth on hers. Wanted to sink into her and make love as though the only thing that mattered in the world was what they could do between darkness and light. Wanted to—hell. He just wanted her.
They came to her door. Ry waited for her to insert her keycard. Invite me in. He had the master, but he wasn’t prepared to push it. Not tonight when she was mellow and had spent the last few hours watching him across the table with those gorgeous olive-green eyes filled with emotion. Over the course of the dinner, he read warmth there. He hoped he saw forgiveness. He prayed that he saw heat and longing. He used to be able to read her well. Now he wasn’t quite so sure of his ability.
The cabin door swung open, emitting cool, Addy-scented air. The womanly scents of shampoo, lotions, cosmetics, and her signature perfume enveloped him in a sensory buffet. They could bottle the stuff and sell it as an aphrodisiac.
“Come in?”
Hell, yeah. His dick rose like a divining rod, and his heart picked up speed, doing a couple of double gainers of anticipation as he followed her inside. Ry shut the door behind him.
In the past, he’d have walked her backward to the bed, stripped her on the way, and entered her as he kissed her. But this was now, and he reminded himself every agonizingly small step of the way into her cabin to take this slow. Keep things at a pace that wouldn’t drive her away. He owed her that much, and a hell of a lot more.
But fuck, it was hard as hell not to grab her. His fingers itched to touch her. It was a fucking miracle he hadn’t stripped her naked at the door, and they weren’t having sex against the wall before the door closed as they had last night.
The bedside light cast a soft golden light, which didn’t reach the corners. The open drapes cast a wedge of cool moonlight across the floor to the foot of the bed. A pathway to heaven.
Seventeen
Addy turned into him. “One favor?”
“Anything,” he said, voice hoarse.
Pain flashed through her eyes. “Stop treating me like I’m going to break.”
He touched her cheek. “I did break you.”
“No, Ry, you didn’t. I’m strong. I’m healing after Sophia’s death, but you weren’t responsible for that pain. And the rest—” She waved her hand as if erasing the past. “We can’t change or recoup the time we lost. We can only go forward from here. Try to put our lives back to some semblance of normalcy. Last night was a good start. I see how badly you want me. Why are you holding back when we’ve already taken a step forward?”
He drew a deep breath. There was no right answer. “Because I know how badly I’ve hurt you. I don’t want to—”
“That’s exactly what I was worried about.” She put two fingers over his mouth. “I understand, and I appreciate it. Yes, we still have a lot to work through. But for the next few hours, can we just stop worrying about every way we did a disservice to each other? Just do. Don’t think,” she murmured.
Her palms flattened on his chest until she slid cool hands under his T-shirt. His belly contracted, and his dick shifted with anticipation behind the constriction of his clothes.
God, yes. Please don’t stop. Cool fingers curled over the waistband of his shorts, and his heart leapt off the cliff of need. He anticipated, and braced for, the brush of her fingers on the tip of his fully erect penis. It wasn’t just that Addy turned him on that fast, it was that he’d been in a state of semi-arousal all day.
Everything, every damn little thing, about this woman turned him on, turned him inside out, turned his brain to mush, and turned his good intentions to smoke. “Addy, I—”
Standing on tiptoe, she brought her mouth up to his as her fingers tightened, her knuckles digging into his abs as she tugged him closer. “Shh.” She licked his lips and fused her mouth to his.
Fair enough. There were other ways of expressing themselves. For now. But he had to tell her about the situation with the Baillargeons and Cutters. The outcome would affect her, too. Still, first things first. There was no way in hell he was stopping Addy when she was on a roll. Sliding his hand up her nape, Ry freed the pins anchoring her hair in an intricate knot. The silky strands tumbled over his hands in a glossy, gardenia-scented fall as he twisted them in his fist.
Still gripping his shorts, maintaining eye contact, she walked backward and tugged him with her. Her legs hit the bed, and she fell backward, dragging him with her. He landed between her splayed legs.
“Slave?” she said, voice husky. “Pleasure me.”
Oh, yeah. They’d played variations on this game many times. This was one of his favorites. “Yes, mistress.” Ry thrust his hands up under her dress, fisted his hand in the thin ties of her thong at her hips, and tugged. The skimpy fabric shredded like paper in his hands.
Addy flung her arms over her head, eyes closed, and said sternly. “My favorites. You’ll pay for that.”
He tossed the scrap aside with one hand and shoved her dress up over her waist with the other. “I’ll buy you a hundred pairs.”
“Not good enough. You’ll have to pay in other ways.”
Ry buried his face against her wet heat and mumbled, “Gladly.” Other ways were fun, too.
“Wait.” She bucked to dislodge his nuzzling lips. “We have on many clothes. You know how I like it.”
Bare. Skin-to-skin. Yeah, me, too. On the other hand, a quickie fully dressed was also excellent. “An oversight,” he murmured humbly as he slid off the end of the bed to stand. It took him about four long seconds to strip, then he dropped back on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbows. The soft white dress bared her to the waist as she lay supine, waiting for him to pleasure her.
Now to figure out how to get her out of the dress. Modest in front, the wide straps crossed in an X over her shoulders, leaving most of her back bare. But he had no idea where or how it fastened. Ripping it off her would be more expedient. Placing a hand on each strap, he was about to do just that.
Addy opened one eye. “This dress is vintage Galliano. Do not tear it.” The eye closed.
She was a Christmas package wrapped with industrial-strength packing tape. Shit, where were the fasteners? “How—”
“I don’t have all night. Hurry.” Hands over her head, palm up, her fingers flexed impatiently. “If you aren’t ingenious enough to strip me, I can pleasure myself.”
Not a threat, love. “I like that game, too. But your wish is my command, mistress.” Rolling to his side next to her, he flipped her with her back to him. Had to pause because the pale nape of her neck was too sexy, too tempting to pass up. She shivere
d as his lips skimmed from under her hair, down her nape, to her shoulder. Her skin smelled warm and fragrant and he did it again, teeth, lips, tongue. Up. Down. Up. Down.
By feel Ry found the damn small diamond-like buttons holding the straps in place. Small buttonholes, large fingers. Frustration mounted. Fortunately she had soft skin and fragrant curves and hollows to explore as he worked at the buttons. He did it by feel because he was too busy kissing his way across the slope of her shoulder to stop and look.
When the second recalcitrant button slid free, he rolled her to her back and skimmed the dress up over her head. “Hi,” he whispered as her face emerged from the fabric. She was so damn beautiful she stopped his heart.
Heavily lidded olive-green eyes opened inches from his. “Kiss me.”
If he had his way he’d never stop. “Is that an order, mistress?”
Combing her fingers through his hair, Addy tugged his head down the last inch. “Damn right. Give me tongue, slave.”
He teased his parted lips over hers. “Here, mistress, or…?”
The heat of his skin scorched hers as he slid down her body, pausing as he got to her breasts. Addison arched her back as he licked a curve beneath her right breast, then skimmed his teeth up the curve until his lips closed around her hard nipple. “So perfect.” His tongue flicked over her stiff nipple as his hand greedily explored the shape of her ribs, the curve of her hip. Hot, humid breath bathed her breast as he lifted his head a fraction to murmur, “You taste like flowers and honey.”
Bringing her hands down from above her head, Addison dug her nails into the taut muscles of his broad shoulders and held on tightly as he suckled. Uneven, his breath rasped as rapid and jagged as her own as he gently closed his teeth around the nub, eliciting another moan from her. Every nerve ending in her body responded, and her hips moved restlessly against him.
With his upper body wedged between her spread legs, he wasn’t exerting enough pressure where she needed it most, and she couldn’t close her legs to relieve the building tension.
His fingers closed around the sensitized globe, kneading and caressing, licking and nibbling until she didn’t know where he began and she ended. His hands wandered over her, exploring her breasts as if committing their shape and texture to memory. She squeezed her eyes shut as his long hair tickled across her chest while he kissed his way from one to the other.
He pressed a gentle kiss over the tattoo beneath her left breast, right over her heart. “This must’ve hurt like bloody hell.”
She hadn’t cried at the small pinpricks. It was nothing compared with the engulfing pain she’d already been in. “I welcomed every prick of the needle.”
“My brave darling.”
She wound her fingers tightly through the long hair at his nape, tugging until he lifted his head and she could look him in the eye. “Don’t stop,” she ordered, fingers lingering in the heated silkiness of his hair.
“Yes, mistress.” The warm cavern of his mouth returned to her nipple and he sucked and licked until her legs thrashed and her throat arched.
“More?”
“Yes. No.”
Cool air drifted like another caress over her damp nipple as he lifted his head, not to look up at her, but to receive his orders. “Up? Down?”
The width of his body held her legs spread wide open, but the weight of his chest where she needed his mouth wasn’t doing the job. It was hard to push the word out as deep inside her muscles pulsed and her moisture dampened his chest. She could smell her own musk, and knowing Rydell could, too, made her even hotter. “D-down.”
He maneuvered down her body, taking his own sweet time and amping her arousal so high Addison could barely lie still. He caressed her breasts, trailed damp kisses over her hip, her inner thigh, the inside of her knee.
Tightening the fingers wrapped in his hair, she demanded, “Up!”
Moonlight swirled as hard hands gripped her hips, and his mouth left her as Ry yanked her to the edge of the mattress.
His smile was all devil. “How do you like my service so far, mistress?”
Rocking her flat hand from side to side, she said, “So-so.” Placing her bare foot on his chest, she held him at bay for a moment. “Less c-chitchat and more a-action.”
With her leg up on his chest she was wide open for his viewing pleasure, and his gaze heated. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, then looked directly into her own. “You’re wet for me, and I haven’t even touched your sweet snatch yet.”
“At that rate you’re going, it might never happen,” she told him acerbically. “I’ll be asleep before you get down to business. You don’t obey orders worth a damn, you know that?”
“Ministrations too relaxing for you?” he said low, voice nothing but gravel.
She was freaking on fire. She didn’t want to play anymore. She was so horny her eyeballs throbbed. All she wanted now was to climax long and hard. Pause. And do it all over again. Wiggling her butt restlessly, she dug her nails into her palms as her internal muscles tightened almost painfully. “I didn’t say relaxing. I s-said slow.”
“Hmm.” With a twitch of his lips, his strong fingers grasped her ankle to bring her foot to his mouth. She tried to tug it away, but he ran his teeth along the length of her sole until she cried out and tried to twist out of his hold. He held her in place as he closed the hot cavern of his mouth over her toes and sucked each individually until she was mindless. “I’ll p-punish you for this.”
“God.” His voice was hoarse. “I sure as hell hope so.” He went back to tormenting each toe. Addison brought her other foot up and thumped him in the chest, using it to try to hold him away from her extremely sensitive feet, which had always been a hotbed of erotic nerve endings. Something Ry knew very well, because he didn’t even pause in his ministrations.
“You are a very dear lord, Ry!” She jolted as he bit the ball of her foot. Already sensitized nerve endings shot an erotic signal directly from her foot to her vagina, then resonated to every part of her body from there. “V-very bad slave.”
“Uh-huh.”
Since he was preoccupied, Addison had plans of her own. Let the punishment begin. Knee bent, she trailed her other foot s-l-o-w-l-y down his chest, rubbing the crisp dark hair, then followed the happy trail over the clearly defined steps of his rock-hard abs. His belly contracted, and his penis lengthened. A glistening drop of moisture swelled at the tip. Addison could almost taste it. Licking her lips, she lifted her gaze to see Ry watching her. Color rode high on his cheekbones, and a muscle jumped in his cheek.
“Tit for tat?” she inquired sweetly.
“Your tits are magnificent, and your juicy tat is pretty damn spectacular, too. Trust me.” His voice, strained and thick with animal hunger, stroked over her with the sensuality of a fur glove. “You’re about to get exactly what you want.”
Even though the window was open, gently billowing the white drapes like sails in the moonlight, the room felt like a furnace; her skin was slick with perspiration and they hadn’t really done anything. Yet. Rydell had always been a master at winding her up for the slow release. She both loved and hated it. “Hmm. Promises, promises.”
Faking a yawn, Addison closed her eyes. “Wake me up when you’re ready to be serious—” Her eyes popped open. “No—wait. Perhaps my slave needs some incentive?” Sliding her foot down, she paused to caress the sensitive skin right above his penis. His body jerked. She ran her toes between his belly and the stiff spar of his erection. He was as hard as steel. The muscles banding his belly flexed as she stroked.
“Bloody hell, Addy.” Ry’s half laugh was strangled. “Turnabout is fair play.” He bit, not so lightly, the arch of her foot as if it were an ear of corn. With so many nerves clustered where his mouth was, it was as though he were nibbling on a live wire.
“It is, isn’t it?” Dragging her toes down the pulsing vein on the underside of what she desperately wanted inside her, Addison delicately caressed his tight bal
ls with the tips of her toes. “I could do this all day,” she lied.
Lifting his head, he laughed. “Witch. At least you aren’t whistling—” Then he yanked her all the way to the very edge so she was precariously balanced. Ry solved that problem by draping her ankles over his shoulders. “Comfy?” he murmured as he knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed between her thighs. Sweat trickled down his temple, and his sweat-dampened hair clung to his neck like chocolate flames.
His ragged breath fanned her wet heat. “Give me a minute here. The smell of you makes me drunk, know that?”
“Get drunk … later.” Her arousal was intense and urgent. Digging her heels into his shoulder blades, Addison urged him closer. “I need your mouth on me, now!”
“Your wish—” His tongue lashed out, licking her wet seam as if she were a delicious ice cream cone. Panting, she whimpered then cried out as the tension ratcheted higher and higher. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, she held on as he feasted on her. Tongue slick, teeth cool, breath hot.
His tongue thrust hard, and he found her clit. Dear God … Addison’s back arched off the bed. Intense sensation coursed through her body as he inserted a finger into her tight sheath.
Impossible to drag air into her constricted lungs as another finger joined the first and his magical tongue danced expertly over and around her clit until she felt as tightly wound as the anchor chain. Pleasure splintered and intensified.
Almost mindless with pleasure, she panted, “Stop tormenting me! Penis! Now.”
Ry surged up, her legs still over his shoulders, and plunged inside her, his penis stretching and filling her as her internal muscles clenched and tightened around him.
Neither had forgotten this dance. Addison knew exactly where to touch him and when, when to hold back to prolong his pleasure, when to urge him faster for her own. And in turn Rydell played her body like a virtuoso.
They rolled across the wide bed. He on top, then under her. She came, and came and came. He shouted his release.
After a moment, arms outflung, eyes closed, he gave a dramatic and heartfelt moan of satisfaction. “Died and went straight to heaven. You are a fine, fine, mistress.”
