Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (14 page)

Candlelight leaches colour from his Arctic blue eyes. Against his black lashes they’re almost transparent and so intense it’s hard not to drown in them but I force my gaze away from his.

“Wine or cider?” I offer.

“Which are you having?” When his dark pupils almost imperceptibly widen I immediately know the reason why. He thinks I can’t be trusted around alcohol. But it seems I’m not deluded by his smokescreen of calm, that easily.

“Sparkling water, with a slice of lemon.”

“Great choice. Me too.”

I smile gently at his over-protective but approving attitude.

After two helpings of salad and most of the bread, his fork finally drops onto an empty plate and Jack stretches his muscles. I rise to clear the table.

“Leave it.” He stands and paces round to me. He pulls me into his arms. “Thank you for dinner. That was the second most delicious thing I’ve eaten today.”

“Second?”

He raises a suggestive eyebrow and his lips twitch. I can’t believe he’s referring to oral sex but I’m glad. I want us to mark each other as much as we can, while we can. Maybe it will make his return to Amanda that much harder. He smiles at my expression. I feel lust and love and longing and make my own torture ten times worse by committing to these moments but I can’t heed my own warnings when I’m near him.

His arm slides round my waist, hand resting at my hip and we walk towards the sitting room. Getting stuck, side by side, in the doorway makes us laugh especially as neither one will give way to the other and we tussle, laughing harder, until he grabs me and carries me squealing in his arms.

“Music,” he announces planting me on my feet.

Jack picks out one of Harry’s old CDs. I lean around him trying to get a look at what he’s chosen but he prevents me seeing, sliding the empty cover back into the rack and snatching me into his arms.

“Were you playing your violin while I was upstairs?”

I stiffen remembering the orgasm note I played repeatedly in the doorway so it would travel. “Did I disturb you?”

“Yes.” His voice is sexy and deep and he tilts my chin up so I have to look into his eyes. I know, he knows, what I was doing.

The opening bars of the original
When a Man Loves a Woman
by Percy Sledge start to play. It’s from Harry’s compilation of romantic ballads.

“Dance with me, kitten.”

Before I have the chance to accept or refuse, he presses me tight against him with one hand in the small of my back and the other holding mine, between our bodies. He sways gently to the music as I close my eyes and live each moment through touch and sound and scent but I can’t relax. I’m wondering if the lyrics are a gentle way of telling me about him and Amanda and sadness overwhelms me. I put my free hand to his chest to push the man I want more than anything in the world away, but I go nowhere. Whatever he’s doing he’s doing on his own terms.

“You are perfect right where you are.” He murmurs the words at my temple as he settles me against his chest and continues to sway with me in his arms. Instinctively I turn my face to his like a flower chasing the last rays of sunlight at the end of a day.

“I wish we could stay at Lassec forever.”

He kisses me gently and I open up to him. As he slides his tongue sensuously along the crease of my lips, a strong shiver of foreboding ruins me.

He pulls back and looks down. “Cold?”

I shake my head. I stretch up on tiptoes, grasping his hair tightly in my hands, hungry to claim his lips as mine while I still can.

His soft, unhurried kisses start at the corner of my mouth, travel along my jaw-line to beneath my ear, and down the side of my neck to my collar bone. By the time he gets there I’m a mass of quivering flesh. My arms anchor themselves around his neck and I suck at his throat and jaw so hard I lift the flesh from his bones. I revel in the rasp of masculine stubble against my delicate skin because I want him to mark me.

“You look very beautiful in that pretty little dress,” he murmurs against my throat, “but it will have to go. I want nothing to come between us.”

Without needing my agreement, he spins me, gathers my hair in a bunch in his hand and throws it over my left shoulder. Taking the zipper tab he draws it downwards, kissing along my spine to celebrate each vertebra he slowly uncovers as I dissolve before him.

Sliding the dress down my arms and over my hips with a ridiculous amount of wet tongue-on-skin contact he drops it to the floor leaving me damp and chilled yet deliriously burning. When he turns me back round, his eyes tour the length of my underwear-clad body.

“Lovely,” he growls, inspecting me. “God, I seem to exist in a state of permanent arousal around you.”

“How inconvenient that must be for you.”

He laughs briefly. “More like inconvenient for you, kitten.” The backs of his fingers brush the swell of my breasts as his focus returns.

“You haven’t heard me complaining.”

“No. That would make things awkward.” He bends to kiss my cleavage, lifting my lace covered breasts up in his hands.

It’s my turn to laugh at him. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Are you sore?” His hand cups me leaving me in no doubt what he means as his fingers sweep back and forth teasing me to full arousal.

I swallow hard. “If I was?”

“I’d get creative. Find a solution to get around it.” His hand lands on my backside hard shocking the hell out of me. He squeezes my buttocks grinding me into him. The heat in his words and his delicious Irish accent always sounds stronger when he’s aroused. Or perhaps I’m more sensitive to it when I am. I don’t know.

“I don’t doubt you would.” I don’t want to consider what else he might have in mind to do to me so I reach up and unbutton his shirt paraphrasing his words to me. “Your clothes will have to go too, of course.”

“Of course.” He watches me work, the breath heaving in his chest. His fingers at my hips stroke and caress until my skin fizzles hot and cold at the same time with his incessant teasing. I draw the shirt from his shoulders stretching up to kiss the warm muscles of his chest and arms as I uncover their strength and beauty. My fingers stroke, admiring each hard crest and ridge of toned stomach, finding the pathway down beneath his belt.

“Didn’t you get your fill of me this afternoon, kitten?”

“Are you complaining now?”

“Why are you answering my question with a question?”

“Why are you?”

His mouth locks hard onto mine and halts our useless interrogation. Anyone knowing what we spent all afternoon doing might find it difficult to believe we want each other again so badly. But nothing about this incessant burning need makes any sense.

Except both of us know our time together is finite.

I want to imprint myself on him, body and soul and I scratch my nails hard over his flesh leaving my mark, in my impatient arousal. I fasten my mouth over his nipple but gasp, as he pulls my breasts free of their cups and twists both of my nipples between his fingers and thumbs. I draw his tightly into my mouth with a fierce suction and torment him with flicks of the tip of my tongue. He tightens on me as his control wavers.

“Enough.” He suddenly pulls me from his body dropping one hand to open his trousers and release his heavy erection into the palm of his hand. Tension wars in his face. I feel the power I wield over him in this moment even in the weakness of my longing.

“Why can’t I get enough of you?” He speaks his thoughts aloud.

The only reason possible. Because he knows we’ll soon be apart for good when he returns to Amanda.

Jack pulls the straps of my bra down off each shoulder. Not even waiting to unhook the thing, he drags it to my waist, freeing my breasts totally to his hands and tongue and eyes. He clamps his lips over one nipple suckling hard until I drop my head back and moan as the repeated sensations chase their way directly to my core. I step closer, pressing myself against him to relieve the mounting pressure.

“Stand still,” he commands and I obey.

He suckles each of my nipples until I whimper uncontrollably, hanging onto his shoulders for support, my legs set to buckle at the knees.

“I want more,” I whisper. My toes start to curl and my hips squirm for more pressure.

“Such an impatient kitten.” He smiles tightly at me.

I reach behind me and unhook my bra. Jack drags it out from between us and flings it away. He continues to lap at my tight swollen buds with his tongue and graze them with his teeth as I pant the air from my lungs. I don’t know how much more of this I can stand without him inside me. My body clenches hard.

Questing fingers find his hair and I grab two handfuls hard, tightening my grip for all I’m worth. He feels the pain and freezes for a second before raising his head up, looking deeply into my eyes.

“You want to play rough?” He grinds out the words, eyes glittering like clear shards of ice and I’m in no doubt about the advanced state of his arousal against my belly.

I nod. The thought excites me.

He pinches both my sensitised nipples between thumb and forefinger so hard I expel a blast of air from my lungs in order to bear it. Lust radiates from his Arctic blue eyes.

“Hmmm.”

“You like that?” he groans.

All I can do is nod beneath the sudden harsh onslaught of his tongue in my mouth. He propels me backwards until I collapse onto the sofa. He nudges my knees carelessly apart and lets me wait wantonly as he drops his trousers and underwear. His erection is huge and glistening at the tip. My eyes are riveted to his hand as he strokes himself and I know he likes me looking at his body as he stiffens more.

“Part your legs wider,” he demands.

Teasingly slowly I place one foot up on the sofa where I sprawl leaving the other on the floor beneath me. His desire for me makes me strong and courageous as brazenly I push the tips of my fingers beneath the stretch of my knickers and touch the smooth naked skin beneath. His eyes fix on my actions.

“Is that sweet little body ready for mine?”

“Come and find out.”

He keeps me waiting. “I liked having my name there.” He remembers the vajazzle that spelled out his name and his signature in felt-tip pen.

My eyes sweep to his. Would I do it all again? I know the answer before I even have to ask the question. He fists his flesh giving himself long easy strokes up and down his length.

“Let me do that to you.”

His eyes flare. “I’ve got a better idea. Come here.”

I crawl to where he stands waiting, knowing what he wants. I’ve never had Jack in my mouth before and tremble with anticipation as I kneel at his feet, hands spread over his thighs and look up at him.

He reaches down twisting the length of my hair about his fist. He tilts my head to the angle he desires as I lick my lips copiously leaving Jack to buzz in anticipation.

His thigh muscles vibrate with repressed activity beneath my hands as he places the tip of his flesh against my lips. I’m aware of the power he has to take control but he holds back letting me take him. I widen my lips and slide over him, hearing him groan. As I discover the natural contours of his maleness with my tongue, teeth and lips I know it’s his mind I blow.

“God, baby, you’re beautiful.” His head drops back for a second but he pulls it back to watch me work on him.

The taste of him sends me ecstatic and my tongue turns repeatedly to skim every ridge and line as I conquer this new territory. My hands gently caress beneath him and I listen to his moans of pleasure.

“Go deeper, kitten.” He voice drops and demands.

I open the back of my throat as he presses all the way inside. I gag softly, unused to the weight on the back of my tongue.

“That sound is so sexy.” He strokes my hair, soothing me in a gentle rhythm as I adjust to this new sensation. His hand at the back of my head starts to control me softly over him without ever making me feel I can’t break free if I want to. I don’t. He likes me this way and I want to take everything I can get.

“Your mouth is so hot and silky.” His blurry sounds of pure bliss are a lure to my senses as I slide over him. “And that wicked tongue…”

Abruptly he pulls back, holding me from moving forward by my hair. For a second I wonder if I’ve done something wrong. Hurt him. He stands rigid, his frown screwed tight, muscles tense, a tic in his jaw working furiously. And he doesn’t move an inch.

“Too close. Go sit on the arm of the sofa.”

I do as he asks to wait while he takes a moment to come back from wherever he’s been.

He tracks across and stands before me, his erection stiff and jutting. He hasn’t allowed himself to come but he wants to, I know it. I want to come too. Briefly I fear he might tell me I can’t again. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself this time. My sex throbs insistently filling my conscious mind with its own heady reminder. I’m empty without him inside me, without the hot friction of his hard body driving itself into mine.

“I swear I’m not sore.” I stare up at him pleadingly.

He smiles. “I’m very glad of that.” He knows what I’m after but I don’t think he’s done playing rough yet. He kneels down holding my hips to the arm of the sofa.