Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1) (11 page)

He realized he definitely had one of those now. She made it beat hard and heavy. Of course, she also made another part of his anatomy hard and heavy. He’d taken her once last night and not again, afraid he’d hurt her. He was a big man, and she’d been a virgin. His skin tingled at the memory of sinking into her heat the first time and feeling the fragile barrier give way under his thrust. Something in his brain had cracked, unlocking a core of possessiveness he’d not known himself capable of.

He walked deeper into her house, the darkness not a hindrance. He remembered every corner and hallway, his mind photographic and trained after years in the military. He came to her bedroom and pushed the door open. His eyes found her, a towel covering her but hinting at the curve of her delicious ass and the velvety hollow between her thighs. Her legs were curled into her body, and she rested on her side. Light from her bathroom poured over her, casting her in a yellow glow that did nothing to detract from her beauty.

Her hair was damp and her smell was fresh, wild. His nostrils flared, seeking her scent, drawing it deep, letting it wash over him and curl around his balls. His hands clenched, that ever-present itch in his palms present. He rubbed them against his suit pants before taking off his jacket and undoing his tie.

She stirred, maybe sensing the predator in her midst. He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it off, and worked on his pants. It took him hardly any time at all to be standing butt naked beside her bed, cock jutting out from his body, begging to be housed inside hers.

He slid down onto the bed, using the warmth of his body to soothe her. She was restless, and he barely avoided a knee in the groin. Ice-cold fear shot through him before he blocked the shot and finally got her in the circle of his arms.

She sighed. Honest to God
sighed
. Goose bumps broke out on his skin as his heart tattooed his rib cage. Her towel slipped, and he grabbed it off her, throwing the damp material on the floor. She immediately moved into him. He stroked her skin, reveled in the softness. She tucked her head into the space between his shoulder and neck and her breathing evened out. Her hand rested over his heart, the same one that threatened to bounce out of his chest.

Her silky leg came to rest over his, and his body demanded he act. He lay still and released a harsh breath. His needs took a backseat. He wasn’t getting any right now and damn if it wasn’t
okay
.

He somehow managed to get them under the covers, wriggling and wrangling and finally pulling the spread over them. He relaxed, closed his eyes even, as he buried his nose in her damp hair. Within moments the darkness closed over him.

Chapter 10

Sophie woke to her own moan, the sound echoing in the silence of her bedroom. Lightning zinged in her bloodstream, and heat centered in her womb. She gasped as a hand stroked her breast, trailed down her hip, and found purchase at her opening. The touch was firm and warm, a demand in the feel of it she couldn’t ignore.

“Open for me, Sophie,” Ryan whispered against her thigh.

“Yes,” she murmured as her legs fell open and she reached for him, hands tangling in the silky brown strands of his hair. He blew warm air against her flesh, and she quivered as the automatic tightening of her legs was stopped by his broad shoulders.

“Look at me.” Gruff words pulled her eyes open to meet his.

Whatever he was searching for must have been on her face, because he very slowly lowered his lips between her thighs and proceeded to tempt her flesh. A long lick along the seam of her pussy, a cupping of her clitoris with his tongue, and then he kissed her there, made love to her with his mouth.

Fire streamed through her, released on a moan pulled from her chest as everything inside her clenched. Her hips lifted, seeking firmer contact, and he complied. His tongue impaled her, curled inside her channel, and then flattened as he withdrew and then licked over her bud.

She may have screamed; she didn’t know. Everything was a blur, and she closed her eyes as she became a creature of sensation. He inserted a finger inside and rotated his hand, mimicking what he would have done with his cock. She wanted that fullness, but his mouth built up the tension, pushing her higher. Then he lightly pinched her clit between his lips and it was over.

She bowed upward, back leaving the mattress, lights going off behind her eyelids. Release roared through her, a freight train out of control. Her muscles clamped down and he leaned over, whispering praise and spreading kisses along her abdomen and breasts while his hand stroked her through the aftermath of climax.

“Sophie, I can’t wait,” he said harshly.

Her eyes finally opened and there he was above her, his beautiful face drawn in lines of need. A lock of velvet brown hair had fallen across his brow, and her hands reached for it but got sidetracked by his lips.

She traced them carefully, reverently. What he had done to her with those lips.

“You don’t have to wait,” she said into the quiet of the room.

His face hardened; his muscles bunched and rolled under his skin. Then he pushed forward, penetrating her with one thrust.

“Fuck. You’re like silk. Hot silk.” He stilled, eyes watching her intently. The feel of him so large and deep inside her body, along with his piercing gaze, was a heady aphrodisiac. Her eyes drifted shut and he began to thrust.

He moved over her, in and out in a pounding rhythm that alternated with rotating his hips, his movements designed to push her desire up, up, up. He lifted her legs, elevating her hips as he rose to his knees. Her legs draped over his arms, and he went so deep she felt her cervix kiss the head of his shaft.

Her eyes flew open and locked on him. His thrusts were harder now, the sound of their bodies meeting loud and erotic in the dim room. She reached for him, the pleasure building again until she wondered if she’d burn to cinders.

“You feel so good,” he said between clenched teeth. “So fucking good on my cock.”

She couldn’t respond. He was taking her breath with this deep pounding into her body, and then his pace increased and she exploded. Once again her muscles locked down on him. He groaned, and she would have thought him in pain had he not been coming inside her. His cock jerked, and her internal muscles refused to let him go. Her hands fell to the side, breath sawing in and out of her body as he remained rigid above and inside her.

He released her legs and placed them gently on the bed. Something whispered against her flesh, her breasts, stomach, and cheek. She looked up and watched as he dropped rose petals over her skin, the fragrance of the flowers mixing with their musk. She licked her lips.

“That’s the first one, Sophie. I hope you’re ready.” His voice held a solemn note she wondered at, but her heart skipped a beat at the promise in his eyes. Then he relaxed on top of her, heavy, but she didn’t mind the weight. This was what she’d been waiting for all day.

* * * *

Her alarm clock went off at four thirty. She woke instantly and reached for the offending piece of machinery, slapping it off and groaning. She hoped it hadn’t woken Ryan. His arm tightened around her stomach before his leg lifted off hers. She got off the bed and watched as he turned over and burrowed under a pillow. His back was broad and heavily muscled. There were signs of battle, scars, what looked like burns. She wanted to know every one of them intimately. It was so strange to see a man, this man, in her bedroom. She’d never had one here and for sure had never thought the first one would be her boss.

She shook her head at the thought. There was work to do. She grabbed her robe, belted it, and carefully closed her bedroom door. She padded down the hall to the kitchen, hit the button on the coffeemaker, and waited impatiently for the brew to settle in her cup. She always took the first one directly in a cup, and then she’d move the pot to catch the rest. Pouring an insane amount of sugar and creamer into the hot liquid, she took her first sip and sighed.

It was so much better drinking it than wearing it. She was a beast without her coffee. She closed her eyes as the caffeine wound through her. At her desk she opened her computer. The Defence Ministry deal was up on the screen. She hadn’t been working on that last night. In fact, she thought she’d taken that flash drive back to work. What the hell? She shrugged. Computers, how they operated and the funky things they did sometimes were beyond her. Maybe she’d saved a copy to the hard drive? She looked but couldn’t find it. She gave up and put the flash drive in and waited for Mr. Bent’s PacificCorp report to populate on the screen.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later her bladder was screaming, but the damn report was finished. It seemed a shame she’d left a very warm body in the middle of the night to finish work. She headed toward her guest bathroom and freshened up a bit before she headed back to the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee for herself and one for Ryan.

She probably needed to wake him up. Or crawl back in bed with him. Yeah, that was the better option. A smile broke over her face as she came to the bedroom door and pushed it open. His head was still buried under the pillow. It didn’t look like he’d moved an inch.

She leaned over to put the coffee on the nightstand, and his hand shot out from under the pillow, grabbing hers. The coffee sloshed, spilling hot liquid on her wrist and arm. She gasped and tried to pull her hand away, but he had her locked in his grip and before she had time to process the pain of the burn, he was behind her, his arm around her throat, squeezing.

Sophie went lax, dropping like dead weight, but he held on, squeezed harder. She dug her nails into his arm, gasped for breath, and kicked backward, hoping to loosen the grip. She made contact with his shin. It didn’t faze him. Her gaze wavered and fear was a dark fog and an even blacker taste in her mouth. He was hurting her.

“Please,” she croaked. She’d been here before, when people looking for Gavin had taken their frustration out on her. Desperation kicked her heart into a new, stuttering beat. Pain blossomed in her chest as she tried to pull in air.

“Fuck!” His voice was harsh as he suddenly pushed her away.

She went to her knees, gagging and gasping at the same time. Her chest burned and her eyes watered. He was behind her still, so she turned. It was always best to have your attacker in your sights. She couldn’t hurt him physically, but at least she’d see him coming.

He shook his head, as if he had no idea what the hell had happened. His eyes were bleak, face hard as he reached for her. She held up a hand, tried to become one with the corner.

“Sophie!” He hunched down in front of her, that hard mask falling off and replaced by agony. “Baby, I’m sorry. I—you can’t—baby, damn, I’m sorry. Come here,” he said, his voice low, tortured, as he reached for her.

She cried out. Fear was white-hot, pressing against her rib cage, refusing to release its grip on her mind. She tried to shrink into herself, but he grabbed her up easily, settled her against his chest as he sat on the side of the bed.

It was irrational, but she turned into him, put her face in his neck, and sobbed convulsively. He crooned to her as he smoothed his hands over her arms and back. What the hell had happened?

“I’m so fucking sorry. You surprised me. I’m not used to—
fuck…
” He trailed off, torment in every tone as if he had no idea what it was he wasn’t used to.

She quieted, sobs leaving her as suddenly as they’d come, and she leaned away from him. He let her go. His face was still agonized, and she wanted to soothe him. For some damn reason, she wanted to soothe him.

He took a deep breath and winced. He grabbed her hand, gently this time, but when his fingers rubbed over her wrist, she yelped. He flipped her arm over, looked at it, and then met her gaze.

“I burned you. Goddamn it, I burned you. Let’s get something on this.” He sighed as he led her to the bathroom.

She followed him like a lost puppy. Shock ghosted through her as hard shudders racked her body and chills floated over her skin. She sat on her closed toilet and let him do whatever he was going to do. Her brain silent, her body in survival mode, she didn’t make a sound as he went to work on her arm.

*

She was afraid of him. What the fuck had he done? He’d been asleep one minute and the next he’d had her throat under his arm squeezing the air from her body. He could have
killed
her. Son of a bitch! This was why he didn’t sleep with women. Why he fucked them and left almost immediately. He was a soldier, not a lover. He was damn sure too hard for her, too rough. He was like his father.

Her body quaked and he flashed back to her gasps for breath. Ryan closed his eyes against the unnatural pallor of her skin as he reached for a towel to dry her arm. He focused on her arm, red and angry from the hot coffee she’d been bringing to him. Tearstains marred her cheeks, and his heart cracked open. There was something he needed to say to her, but he had no idea what. Or how.

He cleaned her arm, slathered it in antibiotic ointment from her medicine cabinet, and wrapped it. She watched him throughout his ministrations, eyes glazed and dull. Her long black hair lay in silky skeins down her back, beckoning his hands.

He could have killed her. It was a mantra in his head, a ringing endorsement of every reason he could not be with her. Hayden was right. Ryan wasn’t the settling down type. No matter how much he wanted Sophie Hanson, she needed to remain off-limits.

His body protested, muscles flexing against the thought, cock rising in a vain attempt to prod him to take her and cement their bond. She was his, damn it.
His
.

The redness of her wrist and around her throat, combined with the fear in her eyes, mocked him. She wasn’t his. Couldn’t ever be his. The pain of it was staggering, unbelievable in its intensity. He shut his eyes as the knifing truth sank deep.

She looked up at him then, something moving in those hazel eyes that nearly brought him to his knees. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him. Her face pressed into his abdomen. How she ignored his stiff cock, he had no idea, but the feel of her arms around him was a sort of forgiveness. Something he had no right to.