Capital Risk (13 page)

“I don’t.” I flushed. “I don’t trust what I feel.”

“What do you feel?”

I whispered it. “Desire.”

It was the wrong emotion to admit to a Bennett, but Nicholas understood that forbidden, oppressive feeling more than any.

“That’s natural, Sarah.”

“Is it? Even after the things you’ve done to me. What happened with Darius?” My mouth dried. “I
feel
something for the first time since he hurt me, but it only reminds me how little control I’ve always had over my own body.
You
made every decision for me. You took me. You gave me to Max and Reed. And then Darius…had what he wanted.”

Nicholas had no counter. I didn’t expect one.

“Every moment I spent in your arms was wonderful.” I met his gaze. “But I can’t be
taken
anymore. I need to take that control back. I need to make the
choice
to be with you.”

“It’s yours.”

“No, it’s not. Not yet.”

And it wasn’t. I wanted him too much for all the wrong reasons. His touch. His comfort. We had been so complete, and now, it wasn’t me fracturing. It was
us
. Flaking and disintegrating within the truth and fear of how deeply I loved him.

“Tell me what I can do,” he said. “Let me help.”

“You can’t help, Nick. I panic if you even touch me.”

The thought struck me. I hadn’t touched him yet, but I knew what would happen when I fell in his arms. Nicholas Bennett would either catch me or toss me into the dark chasm I only just escaped.

I clawed my way to freedom once. I didn’t want to do it again.

But the only way to recover, to let myself
heal
was to take that leap and hope I caught myself before I tumbled down, down, down into the hell below.

It only took a small movement. Something simple. Something safe.

I whispered. “I should touch you.”

“What?”

“Just to prove to myself it isn’t something to fear. Just one touch.”

Nicholas held my gaze. “Just one touch?”

I seized a breath.

Then another.

And I reached for him.

He mimicked my motion. Our fingers brushed, palm-to-palm. My hand didn’t fit in his, and the strength from his rough size should have intimidated me.

It didn’t.

The surge of warmth wasn’t just a
touch
, it was a connection. The same that had always existed, crushed and lost, still beating an endless pulse of promise between us.

The relief burst with my shuddered breath. I touched him. Such an easy motion, but it was
my
choice,
my
decision to let him that close. I pressed my hand against his and didn’t brace for a fight or struggle. I prepared to be overwhelmed by his passion, tossed onto the bed with desires I hardly understood. But he let me
feel
us together. A promise kept.

“Just a touch.” His words soothed, melting wax that warmed but didn’t burn.

So much more. The gold in his eyes stilled me. The familiarity of Darius’s features slowly faded, revealing a man hardened by grief and strengthened by the same touch, the same words, the same
feelings
that protected me from the memory.

My confidence surged, and I wove my fingers between his. He moved only when I moved, acted only when I initiated.

My breathing shuddered. Nicholas’s touch usually stirred me too quickly, too fiercely. I couldn’t understand why I so easily surrendered to a man I should have hated and fought with my remaining strength.

But Nicholas
gave
me strength. He warmed, soothed, and protected, even when he couldn’t save me from all danger. I survived for him.

I touched him.

He touched me.

Our heartbeats pulsed in time, and the heat wrapped me in a layer of comfort that flared more than the feelings I denied.

I came alive. The twisting in my core was no longer a confused and dreadful reaction. I let myself
desire
.

And I wanted more.

“Just a touch,” I said.

Nicholas nodded. “Whatever you need, Sarah.”

“It’s
just
a touch.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“For now it does. I can’t separate what I want from what’s right.” I somehow leaned too close, twisting my other hand with his. I braved twice the heat, twice the brush of our skin. “I can’t protect myself if I’m not whole.”

“Tell me where the pieces are, and I’ll fit them together.”

The pieces scattered, but I could collect them all if I regained my confidence. Explored the part of me enthralled by such a simple touch. It empowered me to set my own limits. And Nicholas was willing to let me guide myself through my own recovery.

I couldn’t surrender again to my obsession with him, but I needed one more step.

“Just a kiss.” I hardly recognized the word.

“A kiss.”

I swallowed. I squeezed his hands to hide my trembling.

“Just one kiss.”

I meant it to prove my strength, that I would not fear the overwhelming presence of a man who took and gave, forced and loved.

Nicholas set his jaw. “One kiss.”

I seized and breath as my eyes fluttered closed. I brushed my lips against his, quickly. Only a brief bump.

I shouldn’t have feared it.

The familiarity, the loving nibble, the
comfort
enthralled me. My delight teased in a freed shudder. His lips guided, but he demanded nothing. The thrill of his gentleness summoned a quiet mew from me.

If he heard it, he didn’t respond, but his hands inadvertently tightened their hold.

It didn’t scare me. I wanted more. More kisses, more touches.

I parted my lips and let the
one
kiss draw me deeper, savoring the relief. I shivered until I trembled so deep my hands shook, captured within Nicholas’s palms. I pulled a hand free only to brush my fingers against his cheek.

Just one touch.

Then another.

The line of his jaw tensed under my fingertips—smooth and perfect. I traced his cheek, the angle of his chin. Nicholas’s stillness aided my bravery. He might have been carved from marble or cast from steel, but he wasn’t
hardened
. Just solid and unyielding. I wished to mimic that confidence.

I melded into his kiss, panting as our lips parted for air. I sunk deeper against him. He didn’t question or protest but offered me exactly what I needed.

Nicholas didn’t thaw the parts of me I shielded from the world—he shattered everything I hid and denied.

Just one touch.

Just one kiss.

I meant it, even as a sudden flush spread over me. For months I lived in a cold shell, denying my femininity, hiding the life inside me. Now?

Kissing wasn’t enough.

It had to be.

How could I fight my own desire?

My pulse pounded hard in my ears, and I groaned against his lips.

“One hug,” I whispered. “A little closer?”

Nicholas nodded, unmoving, still kneeling before me. “One hug.”

I shifted from the couch, twisting my fingers within his. My body vibrated near him, pulsing with a raw energy. He let me pull myself into him. Our chests met, our bodies pushed together, and I rested my head against the solid strength of his shoulder.

His arms captured me.

Comforted.

His sharp scent pulled me from my nightmares and guided me into the gentle fantasy of skin against skin, warmth feeding warmth, and the fullness of what had once been perfection.

It was still perfection.

The twisting need ached within me. I swallowed, parting my lips before returning to his. My words wavered.

“Same kiss.”

“As many as you need,” he promised.

All of them? More of them? Just us, in honest imperfection.

Confidence and passion blended into a dizzying haze. I craved more.

The Bennetts warred to steal my body, but the true battle waged within my own heart and mind.

I had to stop, but my core warmed with the first flicker of passion I felt since the choice had been taken from me. Stopping now would hurt more than what I endured that night.

“Nick…” I whispered, brushing my lips against his. I welcomed the softness of his tongue against mine. “I need more.”

“Anything.” His words deepened, silken, layered with heat. “Anything you ask, Sarah.”

“I need…”

“
Anything
.”

“Pleasure.” It wasn’t a question or a demand. “Just one moment of pleasure.”

“More than one.”

It would only take one to renew me.

I pressed my trembling body against his strength, his muscles, his presence. How could I feel whole if I didn’t experience that one fundamental gift that passed man to woman, lover to lover?

I pulled away, taking the chance, giving what I chose to give. I lifted my shirt, casting it away. Nicholas didn’t move. His eyes feasted on my softening body, lingering over the fullness of my chest and the yet imperceptible swell from our Bumper.

“Just one look?” His smile warmed everywhere his hands had yet to touch.

“Just one.” My whisper wound us in secret. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a perfect man, healthy and strong and bursting with the masculine energy I once loved. Dreaded. Needed.

The definition of his pecs thrilled me. So did the shadowed ripple of his abs and the hollow V stretching beneath the waistband of his pants. Nicholas was the most amazing man I had ever seen.

And he had been mine.

Was mine.

Could still be mine.

I stood, looping my fingers in the soft skirt. It didn’t take courage to shed the last bit of protection from my body, only acceptance of what I felt for him. The bra tumbled next. I knew he’d recognize the changes in my body. The softness. The heaviness of my breasts.. I warmed without his touch.

I laid his palm over my breast. His fingers caressed the silky skin. I gasped.

“Too much?” he lifted his palm.

“Sensitive.” I shuddered as his rough fingertips brushed my nipple. “Very sensitive.”

“Good?”

I hadn’t touched myself for so long, hadn’t let myself feel much beyond the towel after a shower or a tangle of sheets at my feet. I liked it. I’d missed it.

I arched into his hand. Nicholas needed no further instruction. My tiny purr silenced as I pulled him into the kiss. His touch massaged a sudden ache, and he teased a sensitivity heightened within the past weeks. I murmured against his lips, and his fingers claimed my hardened nipple. He pinched.

My mind exploded in sensation and need.

All I had to do was ask and he’d give. All I had to do was whisper
stop
, and, he’d stop. No questions. No hesitations. He’d release me.

And I
trusted
him to honor that.

But I didn’t want him to stop.

I pushed my neck to his mouth. The warmth of his breath cascaded in tingling excitement over my body. The sensation coursed through my blood, heating everything in its path.

It centered low. In the one place I hadn’t acknowledged in weeks. Now I couldn’t help but tremble with every pulse, every clench. The slickness.

His soft kisses traced over my neck, my shoulder, and slowed at the curve of my breast. He waited for permission.

I folded my fingers within his and guided myself into pleasure.

His lips sealed over my nipple. An instant excitement buzzed my skin. I gripped his hand as each draw of his tongue against the tender bud sizzled through me.

He moved slowly, his fingertips hovering under the new swell of my breast. I guided him, letting him cup the exciting fullness that, so far, had been the only perk of my condition.

That changed now.

He rolled his tongue over my nipple, and the slow, teasing draw of his suckling drew a murmured groan from me. Each leisurely nip tightened my core and delighted me in lick and bite.

The changes to my body frightened me, but they excited Nicholas. He teased the plumpness of my chest with trailed promises along my skin. I shivered, letting him kiss, letting myself
enjoy
what he did. His lips tightened over the bud, tugging it to watch as I squirmed away from the overwhelming sensation.

“How’s that?” he whispered, switching to lap at my other breast.

“Not enough.”

“What can I do?”

I knew exactly what he could do—stretch the moment of pleasure into minutes, into hours, time that belonged only to us. My voice weakened, but only because my own desire softened me beyond comprehension.

“Just one taste.”

The gold in his eyes flashed. The temptation stirred him more than I anticipated. But it didn’t deter me. Just the opposite. I trembled as my core clenched hard in sudden wanting. Nicholas felt the same. A hardness bulged against his pants. An invitation.