Phoenix (12 page)

His expression turns serious and tense. “What did you hear?”

“You want the long story or the short one?”

He shrugs.

I blush. “Okay, well, Deborah was being pretty explicit about the fact
that she wants to bed you. She says she isn’t going to give up until she gets
what she wants.”

He sighs. “I actually just came from her place. It was a nightmare. She
answered the door in a kimono. I assume she had very little on underneath but I
didn’t stay long enough to find out. I told her that she’d have to find someone
else to do her doors. She threw some choice expletives my way as I got back
into my truck.”

He tells me all this with a pained look on his face and I have to hold my
hand to my mouth to keep from laughing. My chest heaves up and down.

His lips curl in a hint of a smile. “Are you laughing?”

I can’t hold back any longer. “I’m sorry. It’s just that that sounds like
something someone would do in a movie. In real life it’s just plain cringe
worthy.”

He grins full on now. “It is, isn’t it?”

“God, you poor thing! She said she’s determined to have you by the end of
the month.”

“That will never happen.”

I smile and give him a shy look.

“What did you do after you heard her in the shop?”

“Nothing. I just left. I couldn’t listen to any more.”

“That’s all? You didn’t think to defend my honour?” He’s teasing me.

“Okay, so maybe I fantasised about giving her a slap on her smug face and
telling her to leave you alone.”

“That’s good to hear. I was beginning to wonder if my feelings for you
were reciprocated at all.”

I fidget with the hem of my top. He has
feelings
for me. My heart
does one massive somersault. We lie and relax in the evening air for a while,
neither of us breaking the peacefulness for a long time.

“Come closer to me, Eve,” says Phoenix in an almost whisper.

Nervously, I slide over to him and he puts his arm around me. I rest my
head on his chest. It is extremely difficult not touching him right now. I can
feel his muscular frame beneath the fabric of his shirt. I want to run my hands
over the skin of his chest. He kneads my hips with his fingers and I feel
myself grow hot and flushed. His strong yet gentle touch nourishes me.

Just as the tingles beneath my skin have settled down, his hand begins to
move along the buttons of my blouse, opening them one by one.

“Somebody could come,” I whisper yet I don’t want him to stop.

“Eve,” he purrs. “Nobody will. We’re all alone.”

 He runs his knuckles down the middle of my chest, smiling and tilting
his head when he encounters the lacy black bra I’m wearing that buckles at the
front. Nobody could tell to look at me, but I really like wearing fancy
lingerie beneath my clothes. Kind of like it’s a secret.

I swallow and ask throatily, “What are you doing?”

“Let me show you,” he replies breathing heavily.

He kisses me softly on the neck and begins planting many tiny kisses down
as far down as my collarbone. My entire body goes weak, turns into this pliable
mass that only answers to his touch.

“That feels good,” I say on a sigh, watching as he flicks open my bra. My
breasts fall free and his eyes soak up the view. I am very careful not to touch
him back, afraid it will set off a trigger and he’ll stop.

“Your breasts are gorgeous, so full,” he says, voice gravelly, gaze
wandering over them ravenously.

He brings his mouth to my breast and whispers his lips over my nipple. I
cry out as I watch him, needing his mouth on me. He glances up and smiles at me
fiendishly. He knows what he’s doing, knows I’m desperate for more.

He moves his head back and forth, teasing me with the barest touch of his
lips over my nipple.

Then he pants and drops his head to the space between my breasts. “I
think we need to take this inside.”

“Okay,” I croak.

He stands and
pulls me up with him, quickly folding the blanket and tucking it under his arm.
Then he leads me inside the house. When we get upstairs he pauses and asks,
“Which room?”

I soundlessly point out the door to my bedroom.

He goes inside, looking around him. I hover by the door. He laughs when
he sees me standing there all nervous like a stranger in my own home. My shirt
is still wide open. His laugh is lazy and seductive and I can feel it in the
pit of my stomach.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says in a low, luscious voice. “There’s
no need to look so frightened.”

“I’m not frightened. I just don’t want to make a mistake.” I pause,
biting my lip. “Can I touch you?”

He breathes in and out, thinking about it. “Yes, but be slow.”

“I can do that.”

He walks over to the bed and settles down on it.

 “Come,” he says and pats the space beside him. I step closer and then
sit down, our bodies side by side.

He traces the outline of my jaw, turning my face to his, and asks, “Will
you be my lover, Eve?”

I think my brain goes to mush for a moment at how he utters the words so
deep that it feels like he’s touching a place far more intimate than my jaw.

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out.

 “I never expected you, but here you are.”

His voice makes my body go limp. I breathe in and out heavily. Some of
his brown hair is hanging over his eyes. He looks so darkly beautiful as he
takes my hand and pulls me down so that we are both lying on our sides. He
raises himself up on one elbow and hovers above me, then slowly removes my
blouse and bra. I stare at him, wide-eyed, mouth open, waiting.

“Your body is a dream,” he whispers, trailing his fingers from the
underside of my breast and down along the ample curve of my hip. “All woman.”

I break out in a sweat and shiver. His eyes zone in on how my body
quivers at his slightest touch. More frantic now, he pushes me to the top of
the bed so that I am leaning against the head board.

 “Open for me,” comes his husky command in my ear as his knee slides
between my legs. I let them fall apart and he pushes my skirt up to my thighs.

“I want to be inside of you,” he purrs, bringing his face to my breasts
again and sucking a nipple into his mouth. It feels hot and wet and so, so
good.

“Oh, God,” I moan, arching up into him.

I think I might explode with tension when he moves lower and kisses me
from the lining of my skirt, all the way up my stomach to my chest and over my
breasts. He lingers there for a while, sucking and nipping, and then ends up at
my collarbone again. He presses his lips to my mouth and I respond with my own.
He slides his tongue in and uses it to massage mine. In a brave move I lift his
shirt up over his head and throw it onto the floor. I run my hands over his
skin, just as I had fantasised about doing. The hard ripples of his six pack
are like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

He groans quietly. “You don’t know how good that feels.”

He
doesn’t know how good it feels. His olive toned skin is so
silky, the smooth muscles of his chest so hard. He stops kissing me and looks
into my eyes. “Tell me if you’re not ready.”

Oh, I’m ready. I’ve never felt more ready in my life.

“I am. Are you?” I ask, searching his eyes.

“I’m ready,
agapim
énos
.”

I breathe in sharply at hearing him speak his mother tongue. “What does
that mean?” I whisper.

“
Sweetheart
,” he answers throatily before his mouth is on me again
and I can’t think about anything other than how it feels.

Before I know it he has wrapped me up in his arms and he is holding me to
his chest. I place soft little kisses along his sternum and slowly reach down
to undo his belt. He freezes and I pause, hesitant. I hear him make an effort
to regulate his breathing and the rigidity in his body falls away.

Taking a deep breath for courage, I continue undoing the belt and then
the fly of his jeans. Gently, I caress the lower part of his stomach and then
bring my hands back up to wrap around his neck. My skirt is up around my hips,
so much gauzy cream material splayed about me. My hair is down and spread
wildly over the pillows.

“You don’t seem real,” Phoenix confesses, eyes drinking me in.

He fingers the end of my knickers before easing them down my legs. The
lacy material scrapes exquisitely at my skin, my every nerve ending
anticipating his next move. He slides one deft finger down my folds and I undulate,
aching for more.

“No, you’re very real, Eve. And oh so very wet.”

I moan and he continues moving just that one finger up and down. I grip
the bed sheets in my fists. He moves the finger lower, dips inside and makes
shallow circles at my entrance. My legs open as wide as they will go. I can
feel how wet I am, how I am soaking his finger. His eyes are black with desire
now as he swallows, never moving his gaze from between my legs.

“Hold onto the headboard,” he instructs, sounding like he’s having difficulty
finding his voice.

I stare at him, too lost in pleasure to properly take in his words.

“Like this,” he says and moves up my body, clasping my wrists in his
hands. He crosses one over the other and then brings them to the bar beyond my
head. I grip it and he moves down again, slipping out of his jeans. His
erection springs free and I swallow, the sight of it making me grow infinitely hotter,
wetter, if that is even possible.

He holds himself above me, one hand braced by each of my shoulders, and I
feel his cock whisper over my clit. I can’t help it, I cry out at that one
little touch. A smile splits his lips.

“You’re so sensitive,” he muses.

I turn my face away from him, embarrassed, but he grips my chin and
brings me back to him.

“Don’t do that. I need your eyes.”

I keep watching him then as he brings himself closer. I feel him nudge at
my opening and the tip slips inside. I moan and he swallows it with a kiss.
Agonisingly slow, his cock shoves into my tight channel, opening me up inch by
inch. I might not have been celibate for eight years, but I have only been with
one other guy. He was a nerdy boy from college and we used a condom, so right
now with Phoenix feels so much different. There are no barriers and it’s
maddeningly delicious.

“Christ, you’re tight,” Phoenix swears and tilts his head questioningly.
“Are you a virgin, Eve?”

I bite my lip and shake my head. “Not exactly. I’ve only been with one
other person.”

“Fucking hell, you feel like a virgin.”

“I’m not, I promise.”

He thrusts in and out of me gently. I can feel every inch of his
thickness sliding against my walls. His hands go up to hold onto mine as they
clasp tightly to the headboard. His chest presses into my breasts and the
muscles in his arms move and strain as he begins to quicken his pace.

“Phoenix…” I breathe.

“I have never felt such heaven,” he tells me with dark eyes hooded. “You
fit me so right.” He lets out a few Greek words then and I sigh.

Up until this night, I have never heard him speak his first language. I
almost sense that it hurts him too much, makes him remember his life as a young
boy before it was snatched from him.

He pounds me now and I’m making so many noises. He drinks all of them in.

“More,” I pant. I want him to say more words to me in that deep, foreign
tongue.

“
Se latrevo
.
Se hriazome.
”

“What?” is all I can manage when really I mean to say, what does that
mean?

“I adore you. I need you.”

“Oh, God. More.”

“
Anasa Mou. Asteri tis zois mou.
You are my breath. Star of my
life.”

“You’re too much,” I whisper, kissing his jaw and feeling an orgasm
building inside of me.

“No, you are,” he disagrees, one hand kneading my breast, the other
pinching at my nipple.

It feels like the sensation is everywhere all at once as his movements
speed up even more. His hands around my wrists tighten and a faraway expression
washes over him as he comes up for air.

Suddenly, I am spasming all around him as he continues to pump into me.
Earth-shattering pleasure ruptures through my body. Phoenix continues moving in
and out, making my orgasm last longer. I feel every second of it to my very
core.

“Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus fucking Christ, darling.”

And then he is groaning and slowing down and I can feel him spurting into
me, hot and wet. His weight drops down on top of me but he doesn’t pull out. I
close my eyes, revelling in the feel of him still in me. He rolls us over to
the side and my face hits the soft pillow. I feel his breathing begin to deepen
as he holds me and the sleepy rhythm drags me under, too.

A cool ray of sunlight
breaks through the burgundy, transparent fabric of my curtains as I lie wrapped
up in Phoenix’s arms. My alarm clock has not yet begun to beep, so I can assume
it is before seven-thirty in the morning. I know that Phoenix is still sleeping
because I can hear him snoring lightly as his chest rises and falls against me.

Contentment fills my heart, or maybe it’s my lungs. Hard to tell. I don’t
dare get up. I want to wrap this moment up in layers and layers of precious
pearl coloured ribbon and never ever lose it. So I stay where I am. About a
half an hour passes by and my alarm clock begins to beep. Phoenix stirs and
wakens, kissing my hair and giving me a lazy smile.

“Hey,” he says in a sexy, sleepy voice.

“Hi,” I return. “Sorry about the alarm.”

“That’s okay,” he says rubbing his eyes. He moves his body and I feel the
distinct hardness of his erection nudge lightly against my lower back.

“Mmm,” I moan, memories of last night flooding back to me.

“Eve,” he says huskily.

His fingers slip between my legs and begin to stroke me gently. With his
other hand he pinches my nipple and then begins moulding my breast in his palm.
When his thumb finds my clit he rubs gorgeous little circles into me and I turn
my face into the pillow to muffle a throaty cry.

Some swift movement and then his cock is barrelling inside, slow and tender.
The morning light touches off his gloriously naked body, showing up every dip
and rise, every exquisitely wrought muscle. I’m being made love to by a work of
art. I barely even see the scars anymore, scars that once shocked me and told
me a thousand words about the life he’s lived. They are meaningless now,
because I’m falling in love with his soul.

Can he feel it?

Can he see the love in my eyes?

The thought of losing him now makes me feel like I can’t breathe. And there
is this part of him that seems intangible to me, a part that I will never be
able to grasp in my hands. It is like a butterfly flitting away in the breeze,
so beautiful but I will never catch it.

He spreads my arms out wide, holding each of my hands in his as he
thrusts. My head is still sleepy, my body in a dreamy daze as he coaxes my body
to orgasm with his thick, hard cock.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning,” he rasps, bending down to
kiss my temple. His lips travel over my face as he makes love to me, kissing my
eyelids, my cheeks, the tip of my nose.

“I feel like I’ll never get enough of you,” I whisper into the room that
contains nothing but our noises of pleasure.

“And I you,” he replies.

He never speeds up his rhythm, just continues pumping at the same
torturously slow pace. And yet, it feels infinitely deeper, more consuming the
longer he does it. I grip his shoulders when I sense I’m going to come, and
without realising it I’m digging my fingernails into his skin. Suddenly, he
flips us so that I’m on top of him, straddling him, and the pleasure runs even
deeper. He stares up at me and growls as I shatter. Seconds later he’s coming
too, filling me, marking me.

I collapse on top of him and he cradles me in his arms, placing kisses to
the back of my neck that I feel all the way to the base of my spine. I whimper
when he slides his hand between my legs and slips two fingers into me, then a
third. He withdraws and trails them up my sex to the soft cushion of my belly.
He smears his seed and my wetness all along my stomach, hissing in a breath and
whispering in my ear, “You belong to me now, Eve.”