A Taste of You (8 page)

He slid his hands under my shirt, the pads of his fingers grazing my hips and my belly, and I quivered in response. I gasped in a breath and tried to stifle the sounds in my throat. His touch was gentle and light, and I craved so much more.

“Lift your arms.”

“No,” I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious and grabbing my T-shirt to hold it in place.

“Lift your arms,” he said again, his tone not to be challenged. Part of me was thrilled that he was telling me what to do, what I wanted to do, so I did as he ordered. In a moment my T-shirt was off and tossed over his shoulder. He hissed in a breath as his eyes went impossibly darker. For a few seconds, he just stared at my exposed breasts. With another man, I might have felt like an object, but with William I felt revered.

“You’re stunning, Catherine. More than I’d imagined.” His voice was filled with awe. “I have to taste you.”

My nipples hardened in anticipation, but he didn’t make a move to touch me. Instead, he pulled off his sweater and raked a hand through his hair, which was sexy and tousled. Then he reached for the bag of
pain au chocolat
again, dipped a finger inside, and withdrew it covered in chocolate and swiped his finger across one breast and then the other.

The warm chocolate heated my skin, sending spirals of pleasure down to my core. I moaned, loudly, and though I should have been horrified, I wasn’t. I squirmed, feeling the need in me rising. William was beside me now, bending forward. He brought his mouth to my skin, licking the chocolate little by little until he reached my nipple. He took me in his mouth, sucking hard and long, until I cried out. My back bowed, forcing my swollen nipple deeper between his hungry lips.

“Patience, Catherine.” His breath smelled like chocolate as it feathered over me. “Good things come to those who wait. You don’t want dessert before the first course.” His gaze met mine. “Or do you?”

I couldn’t believe I was letting this happen. I should have been uncomfortable on the hardwood kitchen floor, but nothing except William’s touch, his voice, his body mattered. His hands hadn’t stopped their torment as he caressed my breasts, teasing my nipples until they were so hard they ached. When he took one then the other in his mouth again, I arched against him. He sucked harder, and I thought I might come then and there.

“Where else should I kiss you?” he asked, more to himself than to me. I was too dazed to answer anyway. No one had ever talked to me like this. No one had ever catered to me so completely, and I couldn’t believe how much I liked it, how much I wanted to see what would happen next. I felt William’s arm wrap around me, supporting me as he maneuvered my body so that I was flat on my back next to the SubZero, and he was between my legs. Then his lips were on me again, delving lower, brushing against my abdomen, his tongue teasing my belly button. His teeth fastened on the little bow at the waist of my panties. “White lace,” he murmured. “I like these. But they’re not really needed, are they?” He didn’t ask this time, and I didn’t resist. In one deft movement, he pulled them down, then off, and tossed them behind us. I was completely naked. Then he parted my thighs. His gaze raked over me, and I whimpered, feeling as though I’d go mad if he didn’t keep touching me. I’d never wanted anyone so much. I’d never desired a man like this.

His look, hungry and turbulent, met mine. “Do you want me to make you come?”

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make my mouth work. No one had ever directly asked me. No one had ever made my pleasure paramount or understood my body so well. So I nodded and closed my eyes.

“Look at me, Catherine,” he said, as he swiped his finger against my inner thigh and teased my skin with warm chocolate. Kneeling before me, he bent and kissed the inside of one knee. I convulsed, knowing if I pressed my thighs together, my release would follow. But he held them open, kept me parted while he feasted on my skin, licking it, tasting it, tormenting me until I ached with need. I whimpered, tried to quiet the sound, and whimpered again.

“Don’t take your eyes off me. I want to see those beautiful green eyes when you come.”

I could feel the smooth floor under my bare back and bottom and his warm hands and mouth on my skin. I kept my eyes open, locked on William as he went to work between my legs. The scent of sweet pastry and chocolate infused the air and my senses, making me hungry for food and for him. When his hot tongue finally lapped at the chocolate on my inner thigh, I jumped. Pleasure shot right to my belly, and I writhed against him. He chuckled low, and his hot breath made my skin pebble. He kissed a trail of fire up my leg until he reached my center. Every one of my nerve endings fired, waiting for the feel of his mouth. He waited, poised just above my clit.

“I love the way you smell,” he said, as he inhaled me deeply. “You’re lovely here too, Catherine. So pink and lush. So soft.”

“Please, please, just...”

He stroked me gently, up and down, and I felt dizzy with need. I should have been embarrassed at the way he was talking, but I loved it, and I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even complete a sentence. I loved how much he wanted me. Even though he was pleasuring me, I could see in his eyes he was as aroused as I was. The grey was so dark and liquid it was almost pewter.

“I wonder if you’ll taste as good.”

And then he flicked his tongue out, raking it across my swollen clit. I dug my fingers into the floor and bucked, but he held me steady. His mouth was on my sex now, and he swirled his tongue through my folds, stopping to gently spread me apart with his fingers, dipping his tongue inside, then swirling again. The pleasure slammed into me, hard and hot, I thought I would combust. It washed over me in wave after delicious wave, rippling through me. I’d never come so quickly before. I moaned, bit my lip, and arched my back, pressing hard against William’s mouth. I was shameless, and I didn’t care. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I realized I was naked on my kitchen floor with a fully dressed man I hardly knew between my legs. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I realized he’d just licked chocolate off my body, giving me possibly the best orgasm I’d ever felt. But I didn’t care. I’d never let go like this before. Never let something like this happen.

I closed my eyes and let the last rolls of pleasure rise and spread through me.

“That’s it,” William was saying, his voice seductive and reassuring. “You’re so beautiful right now, Catherine. I could watch you come all day.”

I felt his hands on my mouth, parting my lips, and then he slid another bite of the
pain au chocolat
in my mouth. I barely needed to chew it. It melted, all the warm chocolate sliding down my throat. Then he kissed me, the taste of me on his lips melding with the taste of the bread and chocolate. It was sinful and erotic. I wanted more than anything to cover his body with chocolate. I wanted to lick every inch, slide his cock in my mouth with all the gooey chocolate and taste the two together.

“Have you ever been tested, Catherine?” he murmured into my mouth.

I opened my eyes. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

I shook my head, my thoughts jumbled. “I have an IUD.” I’d had it inserted when I was with Jace. It didn’t need to be removed for another year.

“Have you ever been screened? I have. I’m clean, but I don’t fuck women who haven’t been screened.”

Reason came slowly crawling back, and with it, a little of my dignity. Was I simply going to be one of the women he fucked? Of course, I was. And apparently, he required paperwork before he took a woman to bed. What the hell was I doing here?

“I’m fine,” I stuttered. “I’m clean. But I’m not one of your women. And who said anything about fucking?” I put a lot of emphasis on that last word, and it felt raw and harsh coming out of my mouth. I seethed and rose to my elbows, pushing him back. “I didn’t ask you to come over. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Well, we have to talk about it. The sooner we get it out of the way, the sooner we can move on to other activities.” He was grinning wickedly now.

I sat up and started to scoot back to grab my T-shirt. It was drafty on the kitchen floor. That I was totally naked and William was fully clothed wasn’t lost on me. “Maybe you should go. I told you last night, I’m not into the fuck-buddy thing.”

William was undeterred.

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” One of his hands settled on my bare thigh, and I felt my resolve slipping. Who was I kidding? I’d just had the best orgasm of my life. I had no resolve, and I felt myself heating up again.

“I want to keep you safe, Catherine. I want you to know you’re safe with me. And now, I know I’m safe with you.” His hand moved up my thighs, parting my legs again. “Doesn’t it feel better when you know we’re safe?” His fingers grazed against my swollen skin, and I moaned.

He turned me on more than I could have anticipated. I said I wanted him to leave, but really I wanted him to stay and keep doing exactly what he was doing. I allowed my head to loll back. His fingers stroked me slowly at first, lightly. I felt my body quiver. There was no way I could come again. Not this quickly. Not after the orgasm I’d just had. But his fingers continued their torment, and I felt my body move to meet his rhythm.

“I love watching you move,” he said. “I want to see you come again.”

I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.” I moaned as his touch became firmer and more insistent. There was no way. I’d never had two orgasms this close together.

“You can.” One finger slid into me, and I cried out with pleasure. “You’re so wet for me, Catherine. I love how much you want me.”

I let my legs fall to the sides, and I opened for him. I didn’t know what was wrong with me and why I was acting like this, except that his hand felt so damn good that I didn’t want the sensation to end.

“You’re so tight, so greedy,” he said, sliding a second finger inside, thrusting up, stroking me, then sliding out again. “Has it been a while Catherine? Is that why you’re insatiable?”

I didn’t want to go there, not now.

Wasn’t it enough that he made me insatiable? I’d never acted like this before. He slicked his two fingers over my clit then thrust inside again. I felt my legs falling open wider, felt my nipples hardening, felt the white-hot pleasure rising. I hardly knew this man, and now, I’d not only let him go down on me, I was allowing him to finger fuck me on my kitchen floor. His fingers stroked me again, deep and hard, and then he stroked upward and hit that sensitive place on top. Instantly, I felt my pleasure peak, and I felt the building pressure and tightening again.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and I did. “Look at me, baby.” I did. “Now, come.” I did. Completely. I rode his fingers, convulsing against them and shattering apart. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black as he watched me. I could tell he was aroused. I didn’t know why he didn’t unbutton his straining jeans and plunge himself into me.

“Now,” he said, when I could focus again. “Come for me again.”

I laughed, but I probably should have cried. I was weak, completely drained. Instead, I shook my head and uttered protests, which came out sounding like moans of pleasure.

One of his brows rose as though he’d been challenged. “I’ll tell you when you’re done. You’re going to come again, Catherine.”

I shook my head. “I can’t,” I whispered. But I felt his fingers slide over me again, felt my body betraying me. There was no way this was happening. But as William teased me and stroked me, I felt myself warm to him, felt my body tense and pull in. I was so sensitive now that it was almost painful. He slid his fingers inside, thrusting deep and long, and then he bent his head and tongued my clit.

I moaned because it felt good. The pleasure was almost agony, yet I couldn’t find the strength to make him stop. The more his tongue raked over me, the more the pleasure built until I was panting with it, pushing myself into his mouth, and coming again.

Six

Oh, my God.
My brain was still fuzzy with pleasure, but it was clear enough to realize what William and I had done—or rather, what he had done to me—in my kitchen. Between the hot yoga with Beckett that morning and the mind-blowing, shattering orgasms William had given me in front of my Sub-Zero, my legs were rubbery. I couldn’t think about moving, much less about getting off the floor. So I lay there and felt my face flush as I replayed every delicious detail in my mind. I couldn’t believe I’d let this happen, but I felt too good to care.

“What are you thinking about, Catherine?” William’s velvety voice made my bare skin tingle, and I shivered. He had the sexiest voice.

I opened my eyes. “You.”

“Good.” His eyes darkened to deep blue, and he held out a hand. I took it and rose unsteadily to my feet. As I stood, I noticed the thick outline of his erection. It was hard to miss. The snug jeans he wore looked ready to burst. There was something flattering about seeing him that aroused because of me. But it was confusing too. Why hadn’t he asked for anything in return? Why had he done all of that to me—for me? And how was it possible that I had come so many times? That had never happened. Ever.

My legs were so wobbly he had to support me. This, too, was a first. I’d never been weak after sex. But then I’d never had an experience like the one I’d just had. I could feel William’s warmth where I leaned against him and smell the lingering scent of chocolate and spice on his lips. I wanted him to kiss me again, and I didn’t understand that either. How could I want more when I already felt better than I ever had after sex?

And, realizing that, I felt a stab of guilt. I had loved Jace wholeheartedly, but he’d never made me feel like this. And that’s why sex wasn’t everything.

But I couldn’t deny there was something between William and me.

“Spread your legs.” His voice held a dark promise my body couldn’t help but respond to. I would have done anything at this point. I knew he could make me feel what I’d never felt before. He
could
take me to heights of pleasure I hadn’t known were possible. I definitely wanted that from him—all that and more. But at the same time, I needed to think, step back and get my head right. Everything was moving so quickly.

And yet, I spread my legs for him, wantonly, feeling my breathing speed up. I wanted him to touch me again, to fill me with his hard length I could see straining for release.

“Now, step.” He bent over.

I frowned and looked down. He had my panties in his hand and positioned them at my feet. “But I thought—”

“Step.” The tone of his voice didn’t allow for argument. I could tell he was someone who rarely, if ever, dealt with dissent. Before I knew what I was doing, I stepped into my panties and allowed him to pull them up my legs.

He didn’t move quickly. He pulled them slowly, so that the feel of the white lace was a caress against my bare skin. When he reached my ass, he allowed his fingers to linger, cupping the curve. Finally, my panties were back in place, and he looked me in the eye. “This was all about you, Catherine. I want to see you again. I want to take you out, feed you, take you somewhere you haven’t been.”

I stared. I could have looked into his eyes forever. They were constantly changing. First blue, then grey, then blue again. I loved that his every emotion seemed to be reflected in those eyes. I already knew he wasn’t going to be the kind of man who spoke about his feelings. I’d have to learn to read his eyes.

And why was I thinking about the future anyway? This was about now. And right now, it appeared we were through. “You don’t want anything in return?” I must have sounded incredulous because he gave me a brief, amused smile. I loved it when he smiled. It was sexy as hell.

He handed me my T-shirt, and I slipped it on as he was talking. “Like I said, I was disappointed when you left last night. I worried about you.”

Did I miss something? Did he say that earlier? Maybe he said it while I was coming on his hand when I couldn’t hear anything except my heart pounding in my ears. This man, who owned most of Chicago, and possibly several small countries, had worried. About
me
.

“But I see you’re fine. More than fine now, I hope. Maybe you’re not so hard to please after all…” He smiled again, and this time it was his devilish, sexy grin that practically made me melt. Everything inside me fired up again from that one grin. Did he know how sexy he was? Did he know the effect he had?

I was reeling, feeling surreal. I kept glancing at my kitchen floor, willing myself to believe I’d allowed this man I hardly knew to do all of that to me a few moments ago. I still didn’t understand how he could have made me feel like this when we barely knew one another. He had an intuitive sense of what pleased me.

“I obviously interrupted you this afternoon,” he continued, “and it’s too late for coffee.” He gestured to the cups he’d brought, which I imagined were cold by now. My gaze settled on the
pain au chocolat
, and even though I could still taste it on my lips, my mouth watered again. I wanted to see what he would taste like covered in that rich, spicy chocolate. And then I was horrified by the thought. I had said I wasn’t relationship material, and I meant it. I didn’t want this to go any farther.

Or did I?

“Tell me I can take you out.”

I blinked. “I… William, I told you—”

“I’d like to see you tonight.” His eyes were a steely blue. It was his negotiation look. I had a feeling he lost few negotiations.

“Tonight?” I stammered.

“I know it’s short notice, but I’d like you with me, Catherine.”

My belly clenched. I hadn’t been on a first date in years, but I still remembered it was bad form to ask a girl out the day of. But how could I refuse him? I didn’t want to refuse him. I wanted to be with him too, if only to see where this would lead. My core throbbed, and I had a good idea where it would lead. There was no point in fighting it now. I liked that direction.

“It’s a formal event at the Art Institute. I’d get out of it, but I’m expected. Say you’ll go.”

“I’ll go,” I heard myself say. I would have agreed to go to a drive-thru and eat burgers and fries, but there was no way I could refuse. “I love the Art Institute.”

“I know.”

How could he know? And that made me wonder what else he knew about me.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” He lifted the
pain au chocolat
from the counter. “I’m leaving this here for you.” His eyes caressed my lips in a way that made me hungry—but not for food.

“It’s better warm. Heat it for a few minutes in the warming oven.” He gestured to the AGA. I wasn’t aware it had a warming oven. The whole machine was a mystery. I didn’t understand why ovens had to be complicated.

“I barely use that thing.” I rolled my eyes. A high-maintenance stove. Who would have thought? “I’ll microwave it.”

“No.” William took my hand firmly. “You won’t.” He pulled me over to the AGA and nimbly opened one of the compartments, as though it were as simple as a child’s play kitchen. “Put it in here for five minutes.”

I leaned closer. “Where do I turn the warming oven on?”

William rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated. “Catherine, an AGA is never cold. It’s always hot. Always burning. It’s always turned on.”

I caught my breath and flicked my gaze to his. His eyes were dark again, and I could feel my skin heating and my nipples puckering at the arousal I saw reflected. “I know the feeling.” The comeback girl had reappeared.

He laughed. “Good. I intend to keep it that way. I want you burning for me, Catherine. I want you to want me as much as I want you.”

I didn’t really think it was possible to want him more than I already did.

He kept talking, which was surprising. “I want to fill all your desires, starting with your desire for food.” He tugged my wrist, bringing me closer to his heat. “And someone has to teach you how to use your cooker.”

I felt a shot of heat pierce me, and my knees wobbled. Only a man as sexy as William Lambourne could make using a cast-iron stove sound erotic. He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply, taking possession, and making me hunger for so much more. My breath quickened, and I dragged a hand through his soft curls. Slowly, he took my hand, lowered it to my side, and broke the kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.” His eyes, an indigo blue, were filled with promise.

And then he grabbed his sweater and his coat and walked away, cutting through my small dining area. I stood next to the ridiculous oven and listened as his boots clicked authoritatively on my wood floors, the sound muffled when he reached the rug in the living room, then a faint click when he opened my door and closed it again.

*****

The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur. I was alternately nervous and giddy with excitement. I hadn’t been on a date, and this was no ordinary date—as though anything I did with William Lambourne would be ordinary.

I still had time before I had to pick up Laird from the groomers, so I popped over to a spa I walked past sometimes and asked if they could fit me in for a manicure and pedicure. Then I luxuriated in the pampering, feeling pretty and girly again with my nails polished and buffed. Laird looked good after his grooming, and he was excited to see me. I felt bad that he’d be on his own tonight and took him to the park to play fetch. It was cold, but by Chicago standards, it was a perfect day to be outdoors. I was bundled up in a hat, scarf, and coat, and the sun was out. Laird yipped happily, and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

Despite the fun playing with Laird, I couldn’t keep my thoughts off tonight and what had happened in my kitchen. I was confused about my reaction to William, uncertain I’d made the right decision in agreeing to go, but I wasn’t panicking. Nothing refreshed and calmed me like being outside in the fresh air.

Finally, Laird plopped down at my feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and I slipped on his leash and headed to the condo. As we walked back, my phone vibrated, and I dug it out of my pocket.

It was a text from William.
Did you eat more?

I could hear his voice in the words, and I shivered.

I paused and texted back.
Yes, I heated it in the AGA too.

It had been impossible not to think of him. The
pain au chocolat
had been delicious warmed up as he’d promised. I was going to forever associate William Lambourne and his talented tongue with the lingering taste of spiced chocolate.

I’m sending you a package.

I blinked at the text, a little surprised and then excited at the novelty. What could William be sending me?
What is it?
I texted back.

I stared at my words, waiting for his reply. He could afford anything, so there was no way I could guess what it could be.

A cup of coffee? A new car?

You’ll see
.

I had to laugh. Had I really believed he’d tell me? Laird and I arrived home a few minutes later and headed upstairs. I barely had Laird’s leash off, and I was unwrapping my scarf when my intercom buzzed. “Hello?” I answered.

“I have a delivery for Catherine Kelly.”

“Come on up,” I responded and buzzed to let him in.

A few moments later, I opened my door to an older gentleman, probably late fifties, with a military bearing. He wore a black suit and stood at attention. He wasn’t much taller than me but had more brawn and muscle. He was distinguished, with his clipped silver hair. I glanced at the oversized shopping bag, containing what appeared to be a large rectangular box. “Can I help you?” My heart pounded, and I imagined all sorts of horrific scenarios.

“Hello, Miss Kelly.”

I half expected him to salute—or pull out a gun and shoot me.

“I’m George Graham. I work for Mr. Lambourne.”

I relaxed slightly and gave Laird a reassuring pat.

So that was the package William was sending.

“Mr. Lambourne asked that I deliver this. May I come in and place it for you?” His gaze drifted toward Laird, who wagged his tail.

I didn’t really need a box “placed,” but before I could refuse, George Graham moved into my condo, marching toward the living room.

“Um, okay.” What else could I say? He was already inside.

“Where should I place it?”

I faltered. I had never been good at this. I searched the living room. “Why don’t you… um, put it on the coffee table?”

“Very good, Miss Kelly. I am to remind you that Mr. Lambourne will see you this evening at seven.”

“Thanks.” I followed him and watched as he delicately set the bag with the box on my table, centering it just so. “What’s in it?” I asked, releasing Laird’s collar. He bounded into the kitchen where his food and water waited.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that, Miss Kelly. Please do be ready promptly at seven.”

It was a little annoying that William thought I needed someone to remind me of a date we’d made only a few hours ago, but I tried not to let my irritation show.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kelly,” George said, giving me a smile and stepping back from the table. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

And then he walked away, striding through my living room as though it were his own. I locked the door after him then stood there. How weird was that? I felt like I was an undercover operative for the CIA. In which case, I’d better see what was in my special delivery. I was giddy with anticipation. I pulled the large box out of the bag and removed the lid. And then my cell rang. William already? But when I glanced at the screen I saw it was Beckett. Perfect.

I answered and hit speaker. “Hey, Beckett.”

“Hey, yourself. You sound like your day improved.”

I grinned, fingering the delicate tissue paper inside the box. “You have no idea.” I filled him in on the events of the day, editing very little—I decided I might as well give him full disclosure—and he
oohed
and
aahed
at just the right times.

After I related the kitchen floor scene, he interrupted. “And he didn’t want anything in return? Are you making this up?”