The Beauty of Surrender (28 page)

Authors: Eden Bradley

BOOK: The Beauty of Surrender

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He looked stunned. Hell, so was she. Had she really said that out loud?

She watched as a series of emotions crossed his features, as his face softened. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I didn’t expect you to admit that to me so easily.”

She let out a hard, croaking laugh. “You think that was easy?”

“God damn it, Marina.”

He grabbed her and pulled her in close. She fought him,
had
to, but he only held her tighter.

“Marina, stop it. Stop struggling.”

She tried again to twist out of his grasp, the tears coming hot and fast.

“No, James. Don’t make me do this!”

Her arms flailing, she made one last effort to pull away.

“Marina. Damn it, girl. You love me. You fucking love me! And I love you. It’s going to be okay. I love you.”

The strength went right out of her, hearing him say the words. She sagged against him, long sobs coming from somewhere deep and dark inside her, pouring out against his strong chest as he held her.

“I didn’t want to do this, James. I didn’t want to love you. But I do. And I’m so scared.”

“I know. So am I. But we’re here, and we’re together. I never thought it would happen to me. I never thought it could be this good, and this torturous. I never understood until I met you. Until I loved you. But I’m not stupid enough to turn away from it. To turn away from you. I can’t do it.”

He held her, let her cry it out against his shoulder, her fingers digging into the muscle there as she hung on to him. It was too much, everything she was feeling: old pain and loss, the fierce love she had for James, from which she could no longer hide. She was
overwhelmed by it. Helpless against it. But that’s what it came down to, wasn’t it? She couldn’t deny what she felt for him, couldn’t make it go away. It was too strong, too real.

Finally she told him, feeling ashamed, “You’re so much braver than I am.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. This feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And the best. The most right.”

Everything inside was melting, the pain and fear and love, blending together, until it was a pool of emotion. And she knew she had to simply
feel
it, the good and the bad.

After a while the tears stopped and she lifted her head.

“James.”

“What is it?” He was stroking her face, her cheeks, her eyes, her lips, with his fingertips. He was being so tender with her, so careful.

“It couldn’t have been anyone but you.”

His eyes shone, gleaming and dark. “No one else for me, either. No one but you, Marina.”

He kissed her then, so softly, just a sweet brush of his lips. She wanted to cry again, because it felt so lovely, so right. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth. Of the sweet taste of him on her lips, the feel of his flesh on hers. She pressed closer, and his arms went around her, held her tight, then tighter, his lips crushing hers. He kissed her until she was breathless, weightless. Until she was melting all over. Until the pain faded away and all that was left was love.

He pulled back and whispered to her, “I need to be alone with you.”

“Yes, please. Not here. Take me home, James.”

He smiled at her, held her hand tightly as they went downstairs. His hand was at her waist protectively as he put her into his car. He got in, turned the engine on, and they moved into the night. But the darkness was no longer inside her.

He held on to her hand during the drive. They were both quiet.
And she felt an odd sense of calm, despite the beating of her heart, her fluttering pulse. But it was pure excitement, anticipation, her response to his fingers wrapped around hers. To knowing he loved her.

They reached his apartment, and he never let go as he led her upstairs, through the front door, past the wide warehouse windows, and into the bedroom. A soft, diffused light shone through the windows from the streetlamps and the moon outside, casting shadows in amber and silver. He took her to the big bed and began to undress her.

He whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin, “I love you, Marina. I love you.”

She was in awe. Of him. Of everything she felt. Her throat was tight with emotion, but it was all good. Wonderful. She smiled as he drew her coat from her shoulders, as he stroked her bare arms with his palms.

“Such beautiful skin. Have I ever told you that?” There was awe in his voice, too. Adoration. “I could touch you forever. I plan to.”

“Forever, James?” Her heart was pounding.

His gaze steadied on hers. “Yes. Forever.”

“Ah, James …”

His thumb brushed her cheek, his expression softer than she’d ever seen it. Then, leaning in, he trailed his lips over the rise of her breasts beneath the leather corset. Her body burned for him, her limbs growing weak. She buried her hands in his hair, held him to her breasts as he kissed them, her nipples coming up hard.

“James, I need you.”

He pulled back, looked into her eyes. “Tell me, Marina.”

“I love you.” Tears gathered behind her eyes. But the sadness was gone. “So much.”

His hands were in her hair, pulling her in, then his mouth was on hers, his tongue opening her lips, drawing her into his mouth. He tasted so sweet, felt impossibly soft. Like silk and sugar.

His hands were everywhere, it seemed, pushing her skirt down, reaching behind her to unlace her corset, pulling it from her body.

“I can’t get enough of you, Marina,” he murmured to her as he ran his hands down her thighs, helped her step from her panties. “Never enough.”

She helped him out of his clothes, touching his skin everywhere she could reach: his chest, his shoulders, then his stomach, wrapping her arms around his wide back. He was smooth and golden, over steel-hard muscle. How could a man made the way he was be so gentle? But he was, every touch reverent, lovely.

“James … no one has ever touched me the way you do. Your hands …” She had to stop for a moment, her throat tight with emotion. “No one has ever touched me inside the way you do.”

“Marina. Baby.” He moved down her body until he was kneeling on the Persian rug. He kissed her stomach, and pleasure surged through her body in gentle waves. “Love you, baby,” he whispered against her naked skin.
“My
baby.”

She was shivering all over, her sex damp with need, her breasts aching. He moved his mouth lower, brushed his lips over her hip, down her thigh. She couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait.

“James, please …”

He rose to his feet, took her in his arms, and pushed her down onto the bed, laid his body over hers. His skin was like satin against hers, naked flesh to naked flesh. Amazing, that sensation alone. And he smelled so good, like
James
. She lifted her head, opening her mouth against his throat, licking and sucking, tasting him. He moaned, and she eased her thighs apart, letting him settle his big body between them, and she felt his erection pressing at her opening. A new surge of desire shivered through her, over her skin, deep into her belly.

“James … I need you inside me. Please.”

With both hands he lifted her body, moving her up the bed until she rested against the pillows. And he leaned over to pull a
condom from the night-table drawer. Kneeling over her, he tore the packet open with his teeth, pulled the latex sheath out.

“Let me …”

Taking it from him, she rolled it over his hard cock, loving the solid feel of his flesh. Loving his quiet moans.

Then his hands were on her hips, raising them, pulling her closer. His gaze was on hers, his eyes dark, lit with gold in the dim light. Lit with love. And as he entered her, she felt everything at once: his body driving into hers, his silken skin, his hands warm on her flesh, emotion shining through his eyes. And most of all the way her body surged to meet his, needing his touch, needing to know how real he was, how solid. How he loved her. How she loved him.

She melted into him, wrapped her legs around him. He was whispering into her ear.

“I love you, baby. Love you, love you …”

And she knew it was true.

“I love you, James.”

Pleasure surged, soared, lighting her up inside. And when they came together, it was like the slow spread of pure desire flowing from her body into his and back again. They shuddered with the force of it, the heat, calling each other’s name over and over. And they clung to each other, warm sated flesh upon warm sated flesh. Ultimate pleasure. Infinitely precious. Inexplicable, undeniable. Love.

And no matter what happened, all of those things that were beyond her control no longer mattered. What mattered was their love for each other, living in the moment. And the moment was wonderful. Whatever happened, what she had with James gave her all the strength she needed. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. She loved, and was loved. And she knew she was safe at last.

About the Author

E
DEN
B
RADLEY
has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand. When she’s not writing, you’ll find her wandering museums, cooking, eating, shopping, and reading everything she can get her hands on. Eden lives in Southern California.

The Beauty of Surrender
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Delta Trade Paperback Original

Published in the United States by Delta, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

D
ELTA
is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Bradley, Eden.
The beauty of surrender : an erotic romance / Eden Bradley.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-440-33896-3
1. Sexual dominance and submission—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.R34266B43 2009
813’.6—dc22 2009023826

www.bantamdell.com

v3.0

Table of Contents

Cover

Other Books By This Author

Title Page

Acknowledgments

Part One - Serving the Master Desmond and Ava