Not Until You: Part VII (4 page)

Chapter 37

We didn’t speak on the drive to his hotel or on the way to his room. We simply held hands, our fingers twined tightly together. And during the climb in the elevator, he watched me, much like he had that first night riding up to that hotel room. But this time I wasn’t trying to hide anything from him. This was me, stripped down to the studs, no walls to protect me.

When the door shut behind us in his room, he flipped the lock and turned to me. Everything was there on his face. He pushed my hair behind my ears, looking at me like he was afraid I wasn’t real, like I’d disintegrate and sift between his fingers like sand. His thumb traced my bottom lip. I shuddered beneath the simple touch, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

Then his fingers were tangling in my hair as he bent my head back and brought his mouth down to mine. His lips were tender at first, gentle—like an innocent first kiss. But when I parted mine and touched my tongue to his, the wall of the dam broke. He banded an arm around my waist and dragged me against him, his tongue twining with mine and his fingers tightening against my scalp. The roughness of it sent sparks racing along my nerve endings, electrifying every point of contact between us. I moaned into the kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck.

God. This.
In the loneliness of the last few weeks, I had tried to talk myself out of how good things had felt with Foster, had tried to convince myself that I’d exaggerated it, that my memories were embellished. But having his body pressed against mine, the command of his kiss liquefying every ounce of me, I realized that, if anything, even my most vivid recollections paled to the reality.

He broke away from the kiss, both of us breathless, and put his hands on my shoulders, his gaze flaring with heat. “If you want me to stop, now’s the time to tell me. Because if I keep kissing you, I’m taking you to that bed and not letting you out of it until tomorrow.”

I curled my fingers into the waistband of his jeans, pulling us together again. “I want this. I want
you
. And I don’t need some vanilla, PC version. No matter what happens, I would never ask you to change.”

His lips pressed together as he watched me, and something seemed to lift from his expression. Soon, that wicked smile of intent that I loved so much graced his mouth. He slid his hands down my sides, found the hem of my T-shirt and tugged it over my head, then made quick work of my bra. His hands cupped my breasts and teased, cajoling soft, needy sounds from me. “I haven’t been able to think about anything, angel, except you since you left. I’ve tried everything to distract myself, but no matter what, when I close my eyes, there you are.”

He backed me toward the bed, but I put a hand to his chest. “Tried everything to distract yourself or every
one
?”

He growled and lifted me off my feet. “Angel, I haven’t even been able to look at another woman. You think I would fuck someone else, then come looking for you?”

“Well, I don’t know—” He tossed me onto the bed and I bounced with an
oof
.

“You should have more faith in me.” He sat on the edge of the bed and dragged me onto his lap to straddle him. “The only thing that has seen any action is my fist because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, picturing you like this.”

His mouth closed over one of my nipples and pleasure arced through me. I braced my hands on his shoulders and let my head fall back as I imagined him taking himself in his hand, sliding those long fingers over his cock. Damp heat pressed against my cotton panties as he moved to the other breast.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He lifted his head, drawing my attention back to him. “What about you? I won’t hold it against you if you did. I’m the one who pushed you away.”

I frowned. “Wouldn’t hold what against me?”

“If you slept with the dentist,” he said, his tone belying how totally un-okay with it he’d really be about that.

I blanched. “God, Foster, no. Tonight was the first time we even kissed.”

He closed his eyes briefly in a thank-God way, then lifted his lids, his gaze intent. “I wanted to beat the shit out of that guy for even daring to touch you. Took everything I had not to interrupt.”

“He’s a good guy.” I leaned down and kissed his brow. “But he does nothing for me. You”—I grabbed his wrist and brought his hand downward, slipping his warm fingers inside my shorts and panties—“do this to me just by looking my way.”

He groaned as his fingers parted my folds and found wet heat. “I love how fucking bold you’re becoming. So sexy and confident.”

“You make me brave.” I rocked against his hand, the stimulation like sweet fire licking up my body.

He slipped his fingers from my panties and swiped them over my lips, spreading my own taste there, then took my mouth in another heated kiss. I threaded my fingers in his hair and scooted forward, dragging myself along his erection. Everything inside me was already coiling tight. It’d been so long since I’d touched him. I felt starved—each breath, each touch providing the sweet sustenance I’d been craving.

He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes almost black in the soft lamplight of the hotel room. “God, I’ve missed you.”

I brought my hands to his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath my fingertips. “Every night I’d crawl into bed to try to sleep, but then I’d remember this, you, and my body would go so hot.”

His grip tightened on my thighs. “Did you touch that pretty cunt of yours?”

“Even when I promised myself I wouldn’t,” I admitted, the old flush of embarrassment still rising to the surface at the confession and his crude words.

“Mmm,” he said, the sound rumbling through his chest. “And what did you imagine I was doing to you, my angel?”

I bit my lip but refused to let my bred-in shyness rear its head again. “I imagined rough things, your dominance, you tying me up. My skin would actually tingle when I’d imagine your hand or your flogger coming down on me.”

The look that crossed his face was almost one of anguish. “Christ, Cela, you’re killing me.”

***

The open honesty on Cela’s face was enough to wring the air from his lungs. All the times they were together, Foster had always wondered if maybe she’d only been going along with things to please him, to be experimental. But to hear that not only had she missed him, but had also fantasized about his binding her and bringing her pain, made his heart want to grow wings and zoom right out of his chest.

He knew he had to be cautious. She said she didn’t have answers tonight. There was still a very real possibility that she could walk away from him. But if he’d had any doubts whether or not she was truly wired for being submissive, he didn’t now. She craved what he could give her. And God knows, he ached for her.

He pushed her dark hair away from her face. “Turn around and lie across my lap, angel. I don’t need you imagining anymore.”

Her eyes went half-mast and she eased off his lap, turning to lay herself prone across his knees. Her muscles were already starting to loosen, her mind sinking into the moment. When he had her in position, he tugged down her shorts and panties, leaving them at her knees. Fuck, she was beautiful—full breasts pressed against his thigh, hair hanging down to brush the floor, and the feminine curve of her back and ass there like a feast for him.

He rubbed a hand along the globe of one cheek, enjoying the silky-smooth skin, then he raised his hand and gave it a swift smack. She reared up, her breath catching, and his cock pressed against the fly of his jeans. The bright pink, five-fingered image appeared on that golden skin. He’d never be able to describe to her what that did to him, to see his mark on her, to know that she craved both his softness and his sting, but it was almost religious for him. He brought his hand down again on the other side and inhaled her reaction—the soft cry, the scent of her arousal drifting upward, the surrender in her stance.

“Give me a color, Cela,” he said, rubbing his palm along the place he’d hit.

“Green,” she whispered, squirming a bit beneath his hold. “So very green.”

He smiled. How far she’d come. From being embarrassed about the smallest desire to begging to be spanked. He couldn’t ever remember seeing something as sexy as this woman taking ownership of her desires. He spanked her with a little more oomph this time and she quivered against him.

Confident that she was totally with him now, he worked her over, darkening her ass and the backs of her thighs with a pattern of red marks. Her skin began to glisten with sweat, and her moans turned into breathy, desperate whimpers. He drew his hand down and between her legs, finding her soaked and hot with arousal. “You need to come, angel?”

“Yes, please, sir,” she said, pushing up on her toes to grind against his fingers.

He lifted her up and rolled her onto her back on the bed. She looked up at him with glazed eyes, her cheeks flushed. He knelt on the floor and tugged her panties and shorts fully off. “You have my permission.”

He undid his belt buckle and the fly of his pants, his erection demanding to be freed from its denim prison, and he draped Cela’s legs over his shoulders. The soft, pink folds of her pussy spread before him, swollen and glistening with her arousal, and he had to hold back the groan. He fisted his cock at the base, trying to tame the need building in him. He wanted to take his time and savor this, savor her.

He dipped forward and laid kisses along her inner thighs, giving her a quick little pop on the hip when she wouldn’t be still. She huffed her frustration, making him smile, but she made a decidedly different noise when he ran his tongue along her center. Her fingers curled into the comforter, and her hips rocked forward. He closed his eyes, relishing her tart taste and the sweet scent of her desire. He loved how shameless she was, arching against his tongue and making all those soft, throaty noises.

He eased two fingers inside her, the heat of her making his cock throb, and ran the tip of his tongue around her clit before sucking it between his lips. She groaned, and he pumped his fingers inside her, working her with his mouth until he could feel her pussy tightening. He curled his fingers inside her, finding the spot he knew she needed, and a sharp cry broke through the room. She writhed against the bed, and he held her to his mouth with his free arm, helping her ride the intensity when her body’s instinct was to pull away.

Her strangled cries were like sweet music seeping into his bloodstream, making his body throb in time with her sounds. When he could tell she couldn’t take anymore, he backed off, rubbing his cheek against her thigh and talking to her in soft tones. “Beautiful, angel.”

She reached for him, dragging her nails along his scalp and sending hot shivers through him. “I need you, Foster. Please.”

“Greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he teased, as he pushed himself off the floor, shucking off his clothes and lowering onto the bed.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she gave him a slow smile. “If I wasn’t high on afterglow, I would totally be offended at that.”

He grinned as he crawled over her, bracing himself above her. “Then I’ll just keep you in a constant state of arousal so I can say any filthy, offensive thing that comes to mind.”

She ran her hands along his chest, openly exploring every dip and valley. “That won’t be hard. You seem to have that effect on me.”

He loved how she touched him so hungrily, like each part of him was a revelation. “Feeling’s mutual, gorgeous.”

He leaned down to kiss her as he positioned himself at her entrance, no longer in the mood to be patient. The moment he sank into her, all felt right with the world again. His woman wrapped around him, her taste on his lips, and her heartbeat pounding against his chest in time with his.

No. Not
his
woman, he corrected. Not yet. But he was going to try his damnedest to make it so.

Unable to resist, he grabbed her wrists and pinned both of them above her head as he rocked into her. She surrendered willingly, her eyes catching his and holding the gaze as he slid deep. And in that moment, he didn’t need her words to know. He affected her as much as she did him. There was something there that he’d never experienced before with anyone else. Even when he thought he’d been in love with Darcy, he hadn’t felt that rip-through-your-chest-and-tug-out-your-soul feeling like he did when he looked at Cela.

Cela shifted below him, her eyes blinking closed and a flush creeping over her neck. She was so close again already. The passion in her was right there at the surface, bursting through with almost no coaxing. He could spend forever discovering all the ways to bring her right to the edge of her pleasure and then tormenting her until she came apart beneath him. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed her hip, tilting her upward and moving inside her at the angle he wanted.

Sweat glazed both their bodies as he relentlessly pumped into her, knowing that his girl responded better to a nice, hard fucking as opposed to slow, sweet lovemaking—the virgin had grown into the vixen. And he couldn’t get enough of her and how ravenous she was for him. It made him feel powerful and wanted. Like a man. Like
her
man.

“God, Foster, yes,” she murmured, talking out of her head now, so close to breaking apart.

He increased his pace, the sound of skin slapping skin mixing in with her throaty whimpers, and all his muscles began to tighten. Her crossed wrists thrashed restlessly beneath his tight hold as she raced up the hill again.

“Come for me, angel,” he said, his breath sawing out of him now.

Her head tilted back into the pillows, exposing the long length of her throat, and a low, glorious cry filled the room. He sank forward, going straight for the spot where neck met shoulder, the creamy skin beckoning him, and bit down. Her moan turned guttural, and he released her wrists. Her hands clamped on to his back instantly, her nails digging into his skin, and the nip of pain sent his own orgasm thundering down his spine. Pleasure exploded through him, and he groaned as everything went white behind his eyes, filling her with his release.

Later. Seconds? Minutes? He didn’t know or care, they both got out of bed and took a long bath together in the hotel’s Jacuzzi tub. Neither of them seemed in the mood to talk, both content to bask in the quiet of each other’s embrace. He knew she had a lot on her mind. So did he. And he wasn’t going to push her for anything more tonight. He’d already gotten way more than he had ever anticipated. The look she’d given him when they’d joined together could keep him surviving on hope for a while longer.