Melting Ms Frost (40 page)

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Authors: Kat Black

BOOK: Melting Ms Frost
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‘I know. Tetchiness is part of the recovery process too.’ He took a swig of whisky to try to wash the telltale sensual rasp from his voice. ‘It’s not a problem. Go back to bed, I’ll be in soon.’

‘I’m not tired,’ Annabel said, stepping right into the space between his legs. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this.’ She pulled at the hem of his shirt in a move designed to get him noticing her legs. Like he hadn’t already thought of them wrapped around his ears. ‘I managed a bath and wanted something fresh to put on.’

His throat was desert-dry again already. ‘And none of your own clothes would fit?’ he asked, calling her out. No point in being coy when she was making it obvious what she was after. Her forthright manner again reminded him that she was used to taking control. The fact that she could be so open sexually yet so closed off emotionally told him that she didn’t connect the two. Yet.

‘I thought none of them looked quite as good,’ she returned with a knowing smile, stepping even closer. He was glad to see her cocky assurance coming back.

‘You’re right about that.’ And because he was a sucker who obviously didn’t have the good sense to know any better, he lifted the hand that dangled off the end of the sofa arm, and ran a finger up and down the side of her thigh. Soft and silky. ‘But I’d still like you to go back to bed, Annabel.’ It was a lie. What he’d
like
would be to run his finger high enough to lift the edge of his shirt and see what he’d discover. ‘There’s only so much I can resist.’

‘I don’t want you to resist.’

He’d expected a battle of wills over this from the moment he’d picked up the vibe in the bedroom. What he didn’t expect was for her to climb straight onto his lap, but a second later, that’s where she was, her knees bracketing his hips as she settled over his spread thighs.

‘I can tell. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

The gleam in her eye and the stubborn set of her chin said that she couldn’t care less what he thought as she said, ‘Well I do’, and moved in for the kiss.

With his next intake of breath, the scent of her arousal hit him, shooting directly from his nostrils to his cock, which went from semi-hard to rock-solid in an instant. He very nearly didn’t get his glass to his lips in time to stop her.

Annabel rocked back, eyes narrowed as she watched him take a mouthful. Fine. Let her give him the evil eye if that was the worst she could do.

But then she did something much worse. She undid another button. Then she let one side of the shirt fall open to show the alluring inner curve of her breast. He clutched the glass tighter, realising it was a poor weapon as his gaze was helplessly drawn to her chest, to where he could see the smooth white cotton of his shirt pushed into peaks by her nipples.

Jesus. She was ready for him under there. And he was beyond ready for her. How he wanted to get his mouth on those delectable little buds again, wanted to feel the way she responded to the caress of his tongue. Wanted to have her writhing in his arms.

He was losing ground, fast. ‘I’m not convinced that you’re up to what you’re offering.’

Staring at his mouth in a way that made his abs clench, Annabel started to lean forward again. She stopped when she saw him move the glass back into a defensive position.

‘Don’t you think I’m the best judge of that?’ she asked with a snap of annoyance.

‘All right. Then I’m not convinced I can give you the pleasure you’re after without accidentally hurting you.’

‘Again,’ she said, raising her good hand to his glass so she could stick a finger in the amber liquid. ‘Isn’t that for me to decide?’ And she painted a line down into her cleavage with it. His gaze followed her movements and he knew he was going straight to hell.

Placing the glass on the side table next to the sofa, he snaked a hand around to the back of her head and pulled her gently towards him.

‘Stubborn woman. You don’t know what you do to me.’ He brushed a kiss over her lips while his other hand pushed the gaping shirt off over one shoulder, the cotton falling away to expose her breast. ‘You shatter my control like I’ve never known,’ he confessed, tightening the hand in her hair and pulling to hold her where he wanted her so he could lower his face and lap up that daub of whisky. It tasted so good off her warm skin that he raised his head so he could kiss her, properly this time, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to share the flavour with hers. When he drew back he kept his hand in her hair so that their gazes locked. ‘And while I’m far from averse to inflicting a measure of erotic pain to inflame the throes of passion, causing you genuine hurt is something I never want to do.’

A flash of wariness cooled the heat in her green eyes. ‘What are you talking about? There’s nothing pleasurable about pain, believe me.’

He touched her cast with his free hand, ran his palm up her arm so that his fingers could peel the shirt back over her other shoulder, letting it drop to catch at her elbows, leaving her naked to the waist.

‘Not always, no.’ With the violence she’d recently suffered, now wasn’t the time for a discussion on varying degrees and applications. He’d simply show her the possibilities instead. ‘But the by-products of it …’ He cupped one breast with the lightest of touches, kept his eyes on hers as he lowered his face again and this time licked at the peak of her nipple.

Annabel nearly left his lap.

‘Oh, God,’ she said on a low groan.

‘Feel good?’ he asked.

‘It feels incredible. Do it again.’

He swapped to the other breast and obliged her. Smiling when he got the same reaction.

‘Your pain receptors have fired up your nerves – putting your body on high alert. That sort of stress leaves you feeling achy and tense, makes your skin feel stretched tight, so sensitive to even the gentlest stimulation.’ He licked again, tracing a slow circle, using his thumb to mirror the caress on her other nipple. When she arched into him with a deep sigh of pleasure, he opened his mouth on her, laving and sucking. He set the edge of his teeth around one puckered nub, pinched his thumb and forefinger around the other and pulled both lightly as he drew back, leaving them pert and pink.

Annabel’s eyes were already dazed.

‘Imagine what it would be like if I changed the tempo, sucked those pretty nipples hard. Sucked and bit until they were swollen and rosy and raw and then put a dash of whisky on them? Do you think that would burn?’ A shudder ran through her. ‘You’re nice and warm so I’d leave it there for a little while, watching you squirm while your tender flesh heated up the flavours. Then I’d lick it off, soothing you.’ He ducked forward to brush the very tip of his tongue over each peak, seeing goose flesh spring up over her chest. ‘Savouring the sweet taste of your body under the sharp hit of booze again.

‘And what if I decided to repeat that on certain
sensitive
areas down here?’ He ran his palm up one bare thigh but he’d put money on his words being responsible for the gasp that escaped her. ‘Oh, yes. I think I’d have to sit on you for the way you’d thrash and buck against that.’

His fingers edged beneath the edge of his shirt, met with nothing but warm skin, soft curls and slick satiny folds and it was his turn to let out a deep groan.

‘Why, Ms Frost,’ he croaked once he’d regained the power of speech. ‘You seem to have forgotten your underwear.’

‘How careless of me,’ she returned breathily, squirming against his light exploration, a cheeky little kick-up of her lips filling his chest with a bubble of warmth. Her genuine smiles were still rare, precious things that he realised he’d go to great lengths to encourage.

‘Just so long as you intend making a bad habit of it,’ he said. And using the hand at her nape he guided her forward for another kiss as, further down, he slid a finger slowly into her waiting heat.

Aidan insisted on being beyond careful, bringing her to the softest release she’d ever experienced. With the double magic of his fingers between her legs and his mouth at her breast, currents of pleasure washed back and forth between the two until the ebb and flow coalesced and flooded through her in a gentle wave.

Spent, Annabel flopped boneless against him. He held her loosely for a while before pulling the shirt up over her shoulders and trying to encourage her back to bed.

She resisted. ‘I want you.’ Apart from tonight, he hadn’t touched her properly since the attack, and she knew it was because he was giving her time to heal. She also knew that he wanted her – could hear it in the strained tone of his voice, had been able to feel the evidence of his arousal each night when he spooned around her in bed. ‘I want you inside me.’

She heard him curse under his breath. His eyelids drifted shut as he drew in a breath. When he opened his eyes again, the silvery hue smouldered from within. Bringing his hands up, he framed her face, kissed her tenderly. ‘I want that too. Very much. But it’s too soon, Annabel.’

‘It’s not,’ she insisted, realising that if she wanted to see any action she was going to have to push for it. She nearly laughed. That must be a first – having to talk a guy into having sex.

‘Trust me, it is. Because as gentle as I want to be, there comes a point where I lose myself with you. You like to push me beyond control and I won’t risk that, not until you’re healed.’

She liked hearing him admit that she messed him up, liked the feeling of power such knowledge gave her. ‘Then let me return the favour at least,’ she persevered, palming him through his trousers. She wasn’t surprised to hear him hiss. He must be in some considerable discomfort trapped behind his flies – he’d been unflaggingly hard since she’d crawled onto his lap.

Which was a state of affairs that turned out to be to her benefit. There wasn’t a millimetre of give in the taut fabric, making it quick and easy for her to lower the zip. By the time Aidan even thought about stopping her, she was already pushing her good hand through the opening to grasp him through his boxers. His words of protest melted into mindless noises as she traced the shape of him from root to tip.

She used his distraction to swiftly pull him free of his underwear, wrapping her palm around the thick shaft. He was so swollen that beneath the hot, velvet feel of his skin there was no give at all to his flesh. She toyed lightly to start with, teasing that hardness with feather-light fingers, tracing the shape of him, imagining how good it would be to feel him inside her.

She closed her fist around him, tightening her grip as she began to administer slow pulls that had him fighting to keep his hips still. His impatience fired her own. She wanted more. Now.

Hindered somewhat by her arm, she shuffled none too elegantly backwards off his lap, making a frustrated noise when she couldn’t move fast enough.

Instantly he was full of concern. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Need to get off,’ she grunted.

His hands were there in a flash, helping her find her feet. ‘I told you it was too soon … what are you doing?’

Folding onto her knees between his legs, she glanced up at him with a smile. ‘Just getting into a better position.’ She took hold of him again, started lowering her face.

‘No, Annabel,’ Aidan pleaded, sounding suddenly desperate. ‘Not your mouth. I won’t be able to – sweet Jesus!’

He went rigid as she ran her tongue along the length of him. She looked up to watch his expression as she parted her lips and took him in. His piercing grey eyes were glued to the sight, his body taut as he held his breath. When she reversed the action, dragging her lips back up over the broad tip, the air rushed out of him, his eyes rolled up and his lids fluttered down.

The cuts on her face had begun to pull tight as they healed, leaving her unable to take him as deep as she’d like, but he didn’t seem to mind when she employed the use of her fist to compensate for any shortfall. His muscles were held under such tight control that he trembled all over with his effort to keep still, his hands digging into the seat cushion so that his knuckles turned white. Glancing up to his face again, she saw that his head had fallen back against the sofa, the tendons in his neck standing out. It was heady to see Aidan Flynn reduced to this by her touch.

Humming with satisfaction, she took him slightly deeper. He jerked against her tongue, made a strangulated sound.

‘Enough.
Enoughenoughenough
,’ he panted, sitting forward and sliding his hands under her arms to gently force her up. As soon as her mouth released him, he moved one hand down, wrapping it tightly around hers where she still gripped him and dragging it up and down his shaft. With his other hand coming around to the back of her neck, he brought their faces together, lightly resting his forehead against hers, panting, chanting her name.

‘Oh, God.’ He released his grip around her fist and together they watched her hand continue to work him in the rhythm he’d set. ‘Yes, like that,
a mhuirnín.
Just like that.’ Bringing both his hands to cup her jaw, he tipped her head back so he could press his lips to hers between hot breaths. ‘Make me come for you.’

Another little kick of power – his choice of words making her realise she held his pleasure, quite literally, in her hand. And she’d seldom wanted to make anything happen more. She looked into his eyes. ‘Do it then,’ she said. ‘Come for me.’

All it took was a few more strokes before with a shudder and a groan Aidan Flynn began to fall apart, his striking crystalline gaze locked on hers as he gave himself up to her, his release erupting against his shirt front, a few warm streamers landing across her hand.

Annabel had never seen a more beautiful mess in her life.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Aidan entered his apartment and called out a greeting. After the welcome home he’d been treated to the previous evening, he’d offered Jon a hefty bribe to cover his evening shift today so he could get home early to attend to his lovely patient.

He got no reply even though he could hear definite sounds of movement coming from his bedroom. He smiled, hoping she was choosing herself another of his shirts to wear. He liked the look of her in his clothes almost as much as he liked her in her own – or nothing at all.

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