'Tis the Season (19 page)

Chapter Eighteen

With Lisette's small, soft hand in his, Charles wanted to run up the stairs and pull her down the hall to his bedroom. But he went leisurely, willing the adrenaline rushing through him to slow down. There was too much at stake.

His mind spun as he escorted her upstairs. First of all, her past . . . Before their encounter in the study, it had been, more or less,
eleven years
for her. Jesus. Second, the last time they'd been together, the only time, it had been a rush of animalistic alcohol-fueled groping. And while it'd been hot as hell, she deserved better than that. Tonight, he wanted it to be a little special for her.

Because he knew damn well this meant something. She was placing her trust in him, willingly putting aside her fears to take this step. This night had weight, and he wanted to make it count. For both of them.

“Kids are all asleep, right?” he asked as they got to his bedroom door.

She nodded. He saw the high color in her cheeks, the mixture of excitement and nervousness in her warm brown eyes.

“You're sure about this?” he murmured. “You can still stop this if you want to.”

In answer, she stood on her tiptoes, placed her hands on his shoulders, and brushed her lips against his. “I'm sure,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Take me inside.”

He all but threw the door open, ushering her into the dark room before locking the door behind him. He turned on the small lamp on the side table, opting for dim, softer light instead of the brightness of the overhead fixture. Lisette stood nearby, looking at him as she fidgeted with the edge of the sash around her waist.

He kicked off his shoes, then reached up to unknot his tie.

“No, wait,” she said, stepping to him. Her hands lifted to cover his, she licked her lips, and his heart started pounding. God, he wanted her. “I have a confession to make,” she said, her voice low. His brows arched in curiosity. “You always wear your suits and ties . . . your crisp button-down shirts . . .” She glanced up at him coyly. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are when you're dressed like this?”

He stared down at her, the corner of his mouth curving. “No. Tell me?”

“It's devastating,” she murmured. “You're so handsome it should be illegal.” Her slender fingers worked at undoing the knot of his tie. “You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about undressing you. Taking off layer by elegant layer of your suits . . .” His breath felt stuck in his chest. She pulled the tie loose and dropped it to the floor. “Sliding your jacket off . . .” Her hands slipped under the blazer and swept it off him, dropping that to the floor too. “Unbuttoning your shirt . . . oh, yeah, mostly this . . .” She started to do just that, and as he watched her, his blood rushed hot through his body, slamming him with desire.

Her dark eyes rounded with what seemed like appreciation as she got the last button undone and spread his shirt open. Her eyes on his body, her hands ran over the planes of his broad chest. “Oh, are you gorgeous,” she whispered.

“Who's seducing who here?” he asked with soft but amused astonishment. “You're killing me.”

A look of surprise flickered across her face. “Really?”

“Are you kidding me?” He cupped her face with his hands and brought her mouth to his, kissing her deep and hot. He let his hands glide down her back. Her chenille robe was soft, but he wanted her skin. “But I need to touch you. Time to get rid of this robe.”

She shivered as his mouth trailed down her neck. He helped her get his shirt off, still feasting on her skin as he reached between them to untie the sash of her robe. When his fingers brushed smooth silk, he pulled back to see what she wore. His breath caught as his eyes widened. “You . . . wow.” He drank in the sight of her luscious curves in a wine-colored lace-and-silk nightie that stopped just below her knees.

“I bought it yesterday,” she whispered, blushing. She smiled, but bit down on her lip as she admitted, “I didn't own anything . . . well, sexy. And I thought you and I might, uh . . . so I . . .”

He silenced her with a long, consuming kiss. “You look incredible. So beautiful I don't know where to start . . .” With gentle hands, he slipped her robe off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. His hands moved slowly up her bare arms, bringing goosebumps to her soft skin and making him smile. “You said you often fantasize about getting me out of my suits?” His smile turned into a playful grin. “Well, I often fantasize about doing this . . .” He reached around to the back of her head and pulled out the elastic that held her long hair in its ponytail.

“Your idea of foreplay is a little kooky,” she joked, unable to hide her smile.

He laughed. With both hands, he ran his fingers through her long, dark locks. “When your hair is down and loose like this”—he let it slide from his hands, and it swished before stilling—“you look different. Your hair is free; your whole body is free. And tonight, you look like a seductive goddess . . .” His hands ran up her sides, luxuriating in the feel of her body beneath the silk. Desire heated his blood and sent it searing through his limbs. “You are so, so beautiful. I love to look at you, you know.”

Her eyes filled with pleasure. “That's very sweet,” she whispered.

“It's very true.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently at first. His hands stayed at her waist, but pulled her in closer. Her mouth opened to welcome his kisses and deepen them as her arms snaked around his neck. Their tongues met and circled, their bodies pressed together, and Charles let himself just enjoy the feel of her. The kisses burned hotter, and he eased her backwards toward the bed, laying her gently on the mattress, covering her body with his. As their greedy mouths gave and took, he loved the feel of her hands roaming over his shoulders, his chest, along his back. She was exploring him tentatively, and he wanted her to, but he wanted to explore her even more.

His hands roamed over her body, learning every delicious curve. She made sounds that let him know what she liked, and what she loved—little whimpers and moans and gasps that had his whole body tense with need. Still kissing her, he ground his erection against her hip, needing the contact, and her hands slid down to his ass to grab it, pressing him closer to her. A lusty groan fell from his lips.

“You still have your pants on,” she whispered between kisses. “That's not right.”

He chuckled and rolled onto his back, undoing the belt and yanking it free of the loops. Before he tossed it away, her hands were already at the waistband of his pants, pulling down his zipper over his throbbing erection. Her fingers stroked the length of him over his boxers, and he sucked in a breath.

He stood up and let his boxer briefs and pants drop to his ankles, kicking them away. He watched her dark eyes travel over his body; she'd never seen him fully naked before, and now she was quiet. He hadn't slept with a woman in long enough that a twinge of self-doubt lanced him. Did Lisette like what she saw? After all, he was forty now, and he stayed in good shape, but she was only thirty-four and maybe she—

“You're a stunning man,” she said. “Beautiful, really.”

He relaxed instantly, relief washing through him. “Very glad you think so.”

“I always have. But seeing you like this . . .” She leaned up on one elbow to study him, so he stood still and let her. When her eyes dropped to and lingered on his erection, it twitched under her attentive gaze. “It's a new thrill. A delicious one.”

He smiled, his body simmering with anticipation, and he lowered himself to the bed again. He hovered over her, leaning on his forearms, and brushed back a lock of dark satiny hair from her forehead. The sight of her in that deep burgundy negligee, so flattering against her olive skin, her nipples hard through the silk and her long, dark hair fanned out beneath her . . .

“You take my breath away,” he murmured with reverence. He kissed her mouth, long and sweet. He trailed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, down to her shoulder as his hands glided over her silk-clad body. Her warm skin smelled faintly of vanilla, and he breathed in her scent, letting it feed his senses. Still kissing along her skin, he cupped her breast and squeezed gently, drawing a shuddery sigh from her, loving how the soft weight felt in his hand. Nipping at her shoulder, he tugged down the thin strap with his teeth as he fondled her breast and tweaked her nipple. It pebbled beneath his fingertips as she moaned and writhed beneath him. She reached for his cock, and he stopped her.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Right now, I want to focus on you. Let me.”

“But—”

“Shhhh.” He silenced her with a commanding kiss as his hands went to her waist. Not breaking the kiss, he slid the nightie up her body. He reared up to pull the silk over her head and toss it over his shoulder. “My turn to look at you.”

Her face flamed, and she bit her lip, almost shy. “No one's seen me totally naked in a very long time. I'm a little self-conscious; I admit it.”

“You shouldn't be,” he said. “Because you're gorgeous.” His hands ran over her velvety skin, the feel and sight of her making his blood race. “I want every inch of you.”

* * *

Lisette was so on fire, she could barely speak, much less think straight. And for once in her life, she was fine with that. She'd crossed a line, and there was no turning back now, even if she wanted to. Being with Charles like this was everything she'd dreamed of, and she was going to let herself enjoy every moment.

Charles was all over her, hands and lips and tongue and teeth everywhere he could reach, slowly driving her to heights of passion she'd never before reached. He kissed his way down her body, nipping and licking, claiming her inch by inch, leaving trails of fire in his wake. Her head fell back against the pillows, and her eyes slipped closed as the sensations battered and washed over her. His warm, ravenous mouth took possession of her as he moved lower, lower . . . She panted and sifted her fingers through his wavy hair, mindless with desire.

But he teased her, moving torturously slowly along her inner thighs, kissing, nuzzling, skimming his lips back up until she wanted to beg for mercy. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his mouth sealed over her warm core, his tongue pushing through the folds. She gave a low cry, and her hips bucked and her fingers twisted in his hair, holding him to her as the incredible waves of pleasure crashed over her. He spread her legs wider, then slid his hands under her bottom to pull her closer, the assertive move making her moan and shudder. Then his tongue flicked her clit and she cried out, nearly arching right off the bed. He held her hips; she held his head.

Burying his face between her legs, he feasted on her, his hot, masterful mouth taking complete control over her. Her mind went wonderfully, blissfully blank. His hand moved up to squeeze her breast as his mouth worked magic, and she lost all sense of time, any coherent thought. There was only Charles, and what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel. She writhed and squirmed and moaned, not recognizing herself . . . It was so good . . . so incredibly good . . . The sensations overtook her quickly, and she shattered under him, crying out his name. His fingers dug into her skin, holding her to his mouth as her hips rocked and she rode out the waves of intense pleasure.

She was still floating, panting and dazed, when he moved up and entered her with one easy thrust. “Oh, Christ,” he gasped. “God, you feel so good.”

Her hands went to his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his hips, silently urging him on. “I'm already close,” he said, his voice strangled.

“Good,” she breathed, and kissed his chest. “Let yourself go.”

He began to move inside her, staring into her eyes. “I've wanted this,” he whispered, swiveling his hips. “Wanted you. So much.”

“I've wanted you too,” she whispered back. “You feel so good inside me.”

“Made for each other,” he gasped out, his breath hitching. With another groan, he thrust hard and fast, and her hips met his, matching his pace. She felt his body begin to tense and watched his eyes slip closed, felt his warm breath against her skin as his breathing quickened and staggered, watched the muscles in his neck and shoulders tighten from his efforts. “Christ, I'm gonna come,” he panted. “Lisette . . .”

She kissed his neck, grabbed his ass and pushed him deeper as she whispered his name into his ear, only one thought in her mind:
I love you.

A long, fierce groan ripped from his throat as his body tensed and shuddered. She held him tight, wrapped around him, and felt his warm release deep inside her. He collapsed on top of her, panting hard for a few seconds. Still trying to catch his breath, he sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply before burying his face in her neck. They held each other close, a sweaty tangle of arms and legs and kisses that didn't stop.

“That was amazing,” he finally murmured, a lazy, sated grin on his face.

She grinned back. “For me, too.”

He sipped from her lips, playful and languid kisses. “I wanted it to be good for you. It'd been so long for you . . . and since the last time was—”

“Hot and quick and intense,” she said. “No more apologies for that night. It was hot and I loved it and now here we are.”

He laughed. “Yes, ma'am.” He was so at ease now, downright relaxed and casual . . . She'd never seen him this way. It made her heart happy. His fingers swept her hair back from her face, and he shifted slightly. “Am I crushing you?”

“No. Stay there. You feel wonderful.”

“So do you.” He kissed her, long and sultry and affirming, until there was nothing but tenderness. “Stay with me tonight.”