Traded for Love (33 page)

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Authors: Michelle Hughes,Dahlia Salvatore

BOOK: Traded for Love
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I eased her back on the pillows. I smiled down at her as the scent of her perfume, floral with a hint of musk, floated up to greet me.

“Don't look at me like that,” she begged.

“I can't help it.” I ran a hand over the front of her throat, over her décolletage to the apples of her breasts. I rubbed the pad of my thumb over her rosy areolas. Her eyes floated closed as she let out a delicate sigh. “You don't realize how beautiful you are, do you?” I bent my head and settled my mouth over her heart. “How can you expect me to look at you any other way?”

I leisurely kissed a trail to her nipples and savored each in turn. The taste of her skin was fresh, as if she'd never been touched by anyone else. Her responses were surprising, too, as if nobody had ever made love to her before.

Had it always been sex with that barbarian? Had he never treasured her, cherished her, spent hours pleasing her and gaining satisfaction from doing so? What a fucking moron.

As soon as I'd finished worshiping her upper half, I reluctantly sat up. She was flushed pink, deliciously apprehensive as to what my next move would be.

I spent a few minutes enjoying the feel of her beneath me. This exploration ended with the search for her dress' zipper. I found it at her side. Carefully, I slid it down to her hip and eased the rest of the garment away.

If the dress could make a priest renounce his vows, her body was enough to make him sin. Easy decision.

There wasn't an inch of her I didn't want to touch, not a single hair I didn't want to make stand on end.

I took the liberty of removing my own clothes, to a point. It wasn't long before I was obeying my desire to touch her again. I'd only managed to discard my shirt and unbutton my pants. I was distracted by the features available to me. The trimmed patch of curls that crowned her pussy were soft to the touch. She was markedly quiet. My theory was that asshole preferred her this way.

To test the idea, I traced a finger down the glistening skin between her legs.

She shut her mouth and moaned, more or less confirming what I'd guessed.

“You don't have to hold back, Emily. I need to know what I'm doing feels good.”

I didn't give her the opportunity to answer. Instead, I silently demanded a reaction by sliding two fingers down around her clit.

She inhaled sharply and her hips lifted.

I began to massage, not satisfied with the muted sounds. I wanted her so invested in her own pleasure that censoring her screams didn't even occur to her.

There was no question she deserved a good orgasm. I was determined to give her that, and spent a good ten minutes warming her up and trying to make her forget the man who'd taught her she wasn't worthy. I wanted to erase every evil, shitty thing he'd ever done to her. I wanted her to feel.

Patiently, I waited for the change, and finally I saw the care melt from her face. The whimpers turned into moans, then into panting and crying out. At the peak of her ecstasy, she lost herself in riding the waves. Her muscles tensed, locked, and then went slack. I could see the blood rush from the top of her head down to her feet and back.

I slowed to a stop. She was throbbing and slick. When her legs spread ever-so-slightly, it was a tempting invitation.

The final straw was seeing her face in the wake of the orgasm. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me. Her lips spread into a smile, genuine and small, but pronounced enough to showcase the dimples in her cheeks.

I struggled with and nearly
fell
out of my pants. In my frustration, I almost decided to do the deed with them
on
. Luckily for us both, I managed to get free.

After regrouping, I saw that her gaze had shifted to my crotch. I hadn't noticed just how hard I'd become watching her get off. I'd trained myself, over the years, to keep my reactions at bay. This time, with her, I didn't feel trapped by promises not to love. I was promising just the opposite. I would always look at her like this. As long as she let me, I'd always touch her like this. I'd make sure that as long as she was with me, she always felt loved.

We breathed deep together and I shut my eyes as I savored the moment the gap between our bodies closed.

Mingled with my disbelief at how tight she was, was a strange, new feeling of wholeness. We fit together perfectly.

I supposed there were many ways one could feel complete: emotionally, physically, mentally. But I never thought it was possible to experience all three at once.

Holding onto the wave of euphoria, I picked up my pace. Her moans soaked into my being. I couldn't seem to get enough of her. Everything, from her smell to her touch to the sound of her voice, surrounded me and filtered through me.

I held her against me as I loved her. The full-body contact worked up every nerve. I cradled her upper body in my arms and listened to the music of her ecstasy as it crescendoed.

She was so damned beautiful.
This
was so beautiful.

I'd never experienced being inside of her during an orgasm, so when she spasmed hard around me, I wasn't ready for it. My body seemed to react without my permission. I spent myself inside of her and was utterly drained by the time my own orgasm was complete.

Out of breath and dizzy, I attempted to steady myself. “I'm sorry,” I said in between deep breaths.

I expected to see a look of disappointment on her face when I opened my eyes.

Instead, she appeared disheveled, flushed and worn out. Her curls had been crushed into the pillows and matted around her moist forehead. I pushed up and onto my knees.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded in response.

I reached down to brush a lock of hair from her face. Her flushed cheeks turned a deeper shade of scarlet, and she gave me a small smile.

I smiled right back. “I'll get us some water.” Before I left the bed, I covered her with the comforter.

The lounge was beginning to empty. It was getting late, so it made sense that most of the patrons had departed for the back rooms or hotels, or had gone home.

I walked up to the bar. “Water, please, Rock.”

Rock narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “What did you do?”


Do?
” I chuckled nervously. “Nothing.”

His expression turned incredulous. “I've never seen you looking like this before.”

“How do I look, exactly?” I stopped to consider what had just taken place between Emily and I. My knees were still shaking.

“Like you've done something very bad … or risky.” He pulled two tumblers down from the shelf above his head.

“It wasn't … risky.” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
Had
I done something risky? Had I put myself on the line too quickly? “At least I don't
think
it was.”

“Uh
huh.
Okay.” Rock grinned as he poured two glasses of water on the rocks, then sliced lemons, limes and cherries and added them to the mix. He gave each cup a stir, then slid them both toward me. “Tell her I said hi.”

I shook my head, a grin on my face. He was older than me and could read me well. In short, he knew exactly what had happened, and no amount of lying could convince him otherwise.

When I got back to the dressing room, Emily's eyes were closed and her smile had softened. Her eyes were closed. It was amazing to me that a woman could be so beautiful in the aftermath of lovemaking. Maybe I'd just never paid much attention to my past partners' moods before.

“Sit up and have a drink with me,” I said, taking my seat at her side.

She carefully rose and propped herself up on the pillows. I handed her a glass and watched as she drank half of it in one shot. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I hope you're … okay. I didn't hurt you, did I?” The citrus-laced water cooled and refreshed me.

She sighed. “Hurt me? God no.” She shook her head and tipped her heart-shaped face in my direction. “It was wonderful.”

“Sorry about the end. I didn't expect … ” I cut myself short, not wanting to recount the event. “Anyway, you looked a little frazzled at the end.”

“Drake, it's okay.” She giggled. “It's just … never been like that before.” Her hand crept over the comforter and laced her fingers with mine.

I never realized just how badly I'd ached for our joining. I'd wanted to hold her, and love her. I'd wanted to make love to her all along, from the moment she'd told me how neglected she was. Discovering Doe was her husband had only intensified my desire for her. And now it had finally being satisfied.

She squeezed my hand, and I had to think hard about my previous thought about being satisfied.

I studied her face as she finished her drink. The covers had fallen into her lap. Her chest was exposed. It hadn't been an hour since my tongue had slid over those pretty pink nipples, yet I already missed the taste of her.

My lungs ached, and I realized I'd forgotten to breathe. Would she always have that effect on me?

Was there even going to be an
always
?

(Jack)

The door closed behind Lily. She'd left wobbly-kneed and satisfied. I was completely drained. Two women in one night. It hadn't been my first rodeo, but boy had these women put up a fight.

Chastity rolled over after putting her third cigarette out. I folded her into my arms. “Good?” I asked her.

“Mm hm.” She snuggled against my side. The tip of her nose tucked against my pectoral muscles. Her blood was still pumping fast through her veins. “You?”

“I'm always fine.” I rubbed her arm idly as we basked in the afterglow of our wild sex.

“Not always.” I gave her a squeeze. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“That's only because Drake won't let you come back.”

Is it?
I thought.

She strung an arm over my stomach. “You'd better go. Your wife is probably drunk again.”

“I don't want to go.” I shut my eyes and pretended I didn't have to.

Chastity laughed darkly. “Poor baby.”

I sighed in frustration. “I guess I'll have to.” Getting up wasn't easy. A mixture of laziness and exhaustion made the process slow. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“When will I see you again?”

“Uh. Let's see.” I mentally flipped through my planner. “Ugh. I'm almost completely booked up until next week. Wait, you work for the bakery right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Aren't you going to be at the retreat?”

“I was going to stay behind and manage the store.”

“Don't.” I grinned. “Come up instead. We can spend the whole weekend together.”

“Won't your business partners wonder where you are the whole time?”

I laughed. “I'm sure I can make some time for them.”

She tsked. “I don't know if I can. The store needs me.”

I eased down on top of her, my body sexually awake for her again. Smiling, I gazed into her eyes. “You'll be there.”

“Will I?”

“Yes.”

“And why's that?” She flashed her pearly white teeth.

“Because it's an order.” I slid a greedy hand over the front of her body. “Perhaps I should give you another reason.”

She chuckled. “It'd better be good.”

I tucked my hips between her thighs and with one swift movement, I was inside her. She smiled up at me from the pillows. “Like that, do you?” I ran a hand over the sheets and took possession of her wrists.

“No comment.” Her childish grin spread wider.

“Don't want to say how much you want me? Then show me.”

“Is that an order?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I answered huskily.

With that I began slowly thrusting. I wanted it to be agonizing. I wanted her to beg for her orgasm. Nothing else would satisfy me. I had to hear her scream as fucked her. I wasn't sure I could come without hearing that scream anymore.

Her fists clenched as our bodies moved together. Steadily, her smile faded and her cheeks flushed.

Our gazes locked. “That's right. Feels good, doesn't it? Show me how much you love my cock.”

As my pace quickened, she brought her legs around my hips. Her cool, smooth heels rested in the small of my back.

Her gasps and cries grew louder until they turned animal in nature. Neither of us could breathe. We clung to each other. My free hand clutched her left tit. I dug my fingernails into the soft curve of them. I used it to hold her steady as I filled her repeatedly.

“I'm going to use you like this all weekend,” I threatened in between grunts.

“Yes … please … ” She heaved quick, deep breaths. “Please, use me.”

“You want to come, don't you, my little whore?”

“Y—yes, please allow me to come, sir.”

I slowed to a stop. “I don't think I believe you really want it.”

She licked her lips, and in her intoxication, dropped her head to the side. “Please,” she murmured. “Please let me. I promise I'll go. You can use my body all weekend.”

“Just like this?” I teased, sliding in an inch.

An almost undetectable sigh escaped her throat. “Any way you want, Master.”

“Oh, my little minx.” I leaned over and bit her earlobe, making her suck in a breath. “I'm going to fuck you raw.”

With that, I lost myself in the mechanical motion of lovemaking. There was no way I could hold back anymore. The room could be on fire, but as long as I could feel the silken grasp of her pussy, I'd keep fucking her.

I could have been going for hours for all I knew. The time got away, and yet each stroke was like it could have been my first.

“Come,” I growled in her ear. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Don't stop,” she begged. “Almost … there.”

Though I could have just as easily denied her orgasm and enjoyed my own, like I had for countless other women—including my wife—I didn't. I realized it wouldn't have been as good.

I waited on the precipice for her, incessant in my pursuit to finish her off.

“So good,” she whimpered. “... Fuck.”

As that word escaped her mouth, we
both
came. My toes curled and I threw my head back as I emptied into her. At the same time she gripped and pulsed wildly. My eyes stung as I rode the waves. I was sure I was going to pass out.

My muscles hadn't received the memo from my brain that the orgasm was over, because the sensation kept rolling through me.

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