Mr. Insatiable (17 page)

Her heart had only just started to slow from their lovemaking, but now it started to speed up again. “Oh dear.”

He chuckled. “Why ‘oh dear’? Don’t you like the sound of that?”

“The orgasms you’ve already given me have been pretty amazing. I can’t believe they get any better than that.”

He gave her the sexiest smile she thought she’d ever seen on a guy. “Then you’re going to have a wonderful surprise.”

Chapter

14

Settling himself comfortably beside her, he kissed her again, taking the time to explore her mouth with his. He ran his tongue along her lips, nibbled them, brushed her tongue, and murmured appreciative comments as he stroked her body.

Enya lay there, sighing, wondering if she’d been in some fatal accident without noticing and gone to heaven. Not that Kit was angelic. He kissed around to her ear and bit the lobe, and she gasped, smacking him on the arm. No, he was distinctly devilish, and that in itself was proving to be a huge turn on.

She’d not imagined this at all. She’d thought having sex with her best friend would be comfortable and relaxed, a bit like a nice cup of tea.

Having sex with Kit was
not
like having a cup of tea.

She giggled at the thought, and he raised his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” But the giggles wouldn’t stop, and they bubbled out of her, prompting a mildly exasperated look from him.

“FYI, uncontrollable laughter isn’t the best aid to a great erection.”

“Sorry.” She stroked his cheek, liking the brush of bristles on her thumb. “I was thinking that having sex with you is much better than drinking tea.”

“Coming from you, that’s quite an accolade. I’ve seen the way your eyes roll when you pour a cup of Earl Grey.” Chuckling as she slapped him again, he rolled off the bed. “I’m going to put the bath on.”

“Bath?” She remembered what he’d told her he was planning to do. “Oh. To clean me up, right. Fair enough.”

He stood before her, hands on hips, unbothered by his nakedness. “On the contrary–it’s only to relax you. Normally the last thing I’d want you to do is have a wash.”

“Kit! That’s disgusting.”

“I am disgusting. Are you only just beginning to figure that out?”

“I never realized quite how much.”

He smirked. “Get used to it. I’m going to do many more disgusting things before this holiday’s over.”

Her mouth dropped open. He walked off into the bathroom, and soon the sound of water running filtered into the room.

This was such new territory to her that it was difficult to come to terms with it. Having a man lust after her so openly was shocking, but so sexy. Andy had been so laid back in their relationship. He’d seemed to enjoy sex with her, but it had been so run-of-the-mill that she’d never felt as if he desired
her
, more that she was convenient, a way to expend his sexual energy when he got the urge.

With Kit, however, it was so different. Of course, she knew he had an impressive sex drive, and she wasn’t stupid, realizing he was hardly going to turn her down when she’d offered herself to him on a non-commitment plate. But still, he managed to make her feel as if she were the only woman in the world for him. When he looked at her... Enya sighed and stared up at the ceiling, remembering the heat in his eyes, the way he’d hardly been able to get through the door before taking her. She was being silly and romantic, but it was nice–if only for a few days–to imagine that for the first time in her life, she was special to someone, as if no other girl would do.

* * * *

Kit paused in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the doorjamb as he watched Enya lying on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, raising her arms and sleepily examining her hands before dropping them behind her on the bed, stretching lazily. She looked content and satisfied, like a smug cat who’d stuck her head in a large bowl of cream. Pleasure surged through him at the thought that he was the cause of her contentment.

There’s no magic to it, he thought, a ripple of irritation running through him as he pondered on what her sex life with Andy must have been like. Incredibly mediocre, by the sound of it. Probably involving her lying there, thinking of England and other European countries and occasionally wincing as he missed his aim, certain there was something wrong with her because she wasn’t automatically turned on by her boyfriend taking his pleasure with her as if she were a blow-up doll.

Kit wanted these few days to show her how wonderful sex could be. He didn’t consider himself a Casanova, but he was aware that he knew what women liked, as well as the patience to ensure they enjoyed themselves in bed with him.

And of course he was nuts about her. That helped quite a bit.

He studied her slim body. Her skin would be soft under his fingertips. Her hair looked like molten copper where it lay spread out on the duvet. With Charlie’s words still ringing in his ears, he was quickly beginning to realize that now he’d discovered his feelings for her, it was going to be hard
not
to feel them when the holiday was over–a bit like trying to get a sleeping bag back in its cover once you’d taken it out. And the worst thing was, he didn’t
want
to ‘unfeel’ his emotions because she’d told him that after they returned to Auckland things would have to go back to normal. He didn’t want to go back to normal.

He wanted Enya forever.

Of course, there was his best mate to consider. What would Tris think of him making a move on his sister? Would he kill him? Or would he say, ‘Yeah,
that
was always going to happen? ’ Because Kit was beginning to have a sneaky feeling he’d always felt this way about her, but hadn’t admitted it to himself, convinced she was out of bounds, determined to treat her like his own sister so he didn’t make a fool of himself.

He smiled as she stretched again, singing to herself.

How long had he loved her?

Months? Years? Since the first time he saw her? He’d ignored the elephant in the room, politely pretending there wasn’t a huge grey mammal sitting between them, because he respected Tris, and she was younger than him, and, well, the timing hadn’t been right. But now... He remembered when she’d told him about her dream of kissing him in the orchard–how her eyes had lit with curiosity and interest, the first time he’d ever seen her look at him with longing. It had taken him, what, ten seconds before he’d glued his lips to hers? And her reaction–her instant
explosive
reaction–had flipped his switch from affection to desire instantly.

She glanced over at the doorway, her eyes widening as she saw him watching her. He didn’t move for a moment, though, observing the flush that spread across her cheeks, knowing she could see he was already hard for her, even though she’d only just milked him dry. He needed her to know how much he wanted her. Because he was heading for trouble. He felt it coming, like the vibrations of the tracks when a train approaches. It was going to hit him hard when it arrived, but it was a few days off yet. Plenty of time to show her how wonderful it could be with him, to make it more difficult for her to come to the conclusion he knew she’d already reached.

He walked toward her, and she sat up as he approached, eyes wide, as if she thought he was going to leap on her. He smiled, though, holding out his hand. “Come on sexy. Bath time.”

* * * *

It was a large bath, and she wasn’t surprised when Kit got in with her, politely taking the tap end and stretching out his long legs around her as she sank into the bubbly bliss. The water was only lukewarm, but Kit was right, it did relax her. Not that she was tense particularly–after the speech-depriving orgasm she’d had, it would have been difficult to be too tense. However, heat flamed in her cheeks at the thought of this kind, sexy man going down on her, taking his time to pleasure her, and it was nice to take a bit of time in between these experiences to savor the moment.

He’d brought in a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine, and even though she was already pleasantly woozy, she accepted a small glass, sipping it as they talked. It was so odd to see him with new eyes. He sounded like the old Kit, his voice deep and mellow, blue eyes warm and crinkling at the edges when he smiled. She still recognized the mannerisms she knew well, like the way he frequently ran a hand through his hair as if conscious of the rebellious strands at the front, only for them to spring up seconds after he lowered his hand. He spoke of places they’d been, people they knew–he was incredibly familiar, someone she’d known for so long, she almost couldn’t remember life without him.

And yet... It was as if all along they’d been acting out roles on a stage, and now finally they’d met behind scenes, and she was talking to the real Kit. She was seeing things she’d never noticed before, such as the way his chest hairs curled, and why had she never noticed how muscular his arms were, how toned and fit his whole body was?

“Do you work out?” The words prompted a look of surprise from him, as he’d been talking about the meeting he’d had with the fireworks firm.

His lips curved. “Sometimes.”

“Mm.” She sipped her wine, studying his chest with approval before raising her gaze to his.

His blue eyes had taken on that saucy, interested look she was beginning to know and love. “Turn you on, does it?”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

Holding her gaze, he put down his glass and took her hand, pulling her toward him. It was a struggle squeezing between his legs and not letting the water slop over the side of the bath, and they were both laughing by the time he had her half on his lap and in his arms.

He kissed her, and Enya sighed, drowsy from alcohol and jet lag and unused to being in such a sexual haze. She threaded her fingers through his short, dark hair, and then ran her hand down his neck, feeling his broad shoulders, the firmness of the muscles in his chest. Her hand dipped lower, and his lips moved from hers to nibble her earlobe as he said, “Aren’t you a bit old to play with toys in the bath?”

“Submarines is my favorite game.” She stroked him, finding him already hard and ready for her. “Looks like your periscope’s up, anyway.”

He chuckled, pulling back and lifting himself up out of the water. “Okay, time’s up.” He toweled himself dry and then extended his hand to her. “Come on, O’Donnell. We have some serious loving to do.”

She let him dry her, her heart rate speeding up as he led her into the bedroom. He climbed on the bed and pulled her toward him, and she lay down, smiling shyly as he stretched out next to her.

He kissed her, stroking her arms, running his fingers lightly along her stomach and around her breasts. He didn’t touch her nipples yet, but traced around them with teasing circles. As he aroused her, the room grew warm. “I should put the air conditioning on,” she said.

“Nuh-uh.” He kissed down her breastbone and ran his tongue lightly under her breast. “I want you hot and sweaty.”

“Kit!”

“What?” He raised his head, amused.

“You’re…you’re…” Words failed her.

“Disgusting? Revolting? Perverted?”

“All of the above.”

He laughed, stroking down the outside of her thighs and up the inside. “I’m really not. Sex shouldn’t be sterile and clean and in the dark, all neat and tidy. It shouldn’t be polite and full of ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous.’” He looked at her intensely. “Good sex is sweaty and dirty and loud. It’s overwhelming and inelegant and vulgar–it’s about bumping teeth and getting buttons caught in hair and feeling comfortable enough with the other person to lose control.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “Your eyes are like saucers.”

“I’m…shocked. I mean, I’ve seen sex like that in movies, and read about it in books, but I thought it was fabricated. I wasn’t sure I believed it could be like that.”

His fingers reached the top of her thighs, and for the first time he let them brush against her pubic hair. “And now?”

She caught her breath. “I…I’m still not sure I’d describe myself as ‘comfortable’ with you. It feels strange, us being together, and I feel a bit self-conscious and…I don’t know, worried about pleasing you, I suppose.” She wondered if that comment might make him frown, but instead he laughed.

“That’s the least of your worries, love. I’m easy to please.”

“Most men are. I didn’t mean like that, though. I meant more that I know your aim is to show me how good it can be, and you have, but I still feel concerned that if I find it difficult to relax, you’ll be disappointed. I don’t want to disappoint you.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words she realized how much she meant them.

Something akin to pity flickered in his expression, and he stroked her cheek. “I understand what you’re saying. And I think that’s perfectly normal considering what experience you’ve had so far. But honey, if you can’t relax, there’s something wrong with the guy’s technique. I’m not saying it’s all down to the man–of course it isn’t, but women take longer than men to get aroused, and because of that, they need more foreplay. Different foreplay to what a guy needs.”

“I think that’s why some men get impatient–because they’re ready to go with a few flicks through a raunchy mag.”

“Yeah. We don’t
need
foreplay as such.” He gave her a sexy smile. “But most of us like it.”