Trust (47 page)

His tongue trailed her calf and the back of her knee; he put her foot on his shoulder and gripped the other ankle in his hand.

“Alistair,” Sophia hissed and closed her eyes again.

“Keep your eyes open,” His grip tightened on her ankle and his tongue flicked her left instep as his teeth bit down.

“Ah,” she gasped.

A lascivious grin appeared on his face and his tongue marked a path from her ankle to her inner knee, putting the foot on his other shoulder, and leaning down to the apex of her thighs, his hands easing her legs down his back.

Sophia’s mouth went dry. He looked like a pagan god, his black hair falling to his shoulders, a lock over his face, his eyes flashing with ardor. He drew his fingers unhurriedly up her legs, his gaze never straying from hers. One of his hands held her hip and the other spread her, his fingers touching her lightly. “So smooth,” he breathed.

Sophia bowed on the bed and almost sobbed from the slow torture, “Please.”

His fingers caressed her and found her wet with craving. A finger teased her entrance and she gasped in anticipation as he whispered, “Tell me, Sophia, who is pleasuring you?”

“You,” she gasped. “You, Alistair.”

His eyes flashed green and he pushed a long, broad finger deep inside her.

“Alistair!” His name split in a soft scream on her lips.

With a satisfied smile, he bent over her to suck her breast, his finger entering, retreating, and circling. Soon, another finger stretched her.
Fuck. She’s tight
.

She gripped his biceps so strongly her nails dug into his skin. He needed her out of her mind. Sweat filmed his forehead as he reined in his desire. Her hands flew to his boxers and began to remove them.

His hand grabbed hers. “Not yet,” he repeated. His erection strained against the material, the sensitive head rasping on the cotton, screaming to be free. He crushed her mouth with his, drinking and breathing her. He couldn’t get enough. He could feel her hands clutching his waist, urging him, but he resisted. He wanted this to last. “No hurry,” he said again and tried to hold on to the thin thread of control that kept him from plunging into her.

With all her strength and passion, she shoved him back to his knees and rose on hers to meet him. Her hands were running over his chest and abs.

Sophia, crazed with desire, clamped her mouth to his nipple, biting it lightly. He groaned approvingly, his hands pressing her head to his chest. She used the opportunity to pull down his boxers. Her hand circled his erection and she stilled.

Her head came up and she looked at him, eyes wide, astonished, her lips parted. “You’re,” she breathed, his eyes flashed, “huge.”

He framed her face, drawing her to him for another kiss. “Don’t worry, we’ll fit,” he said between kisses, “I have experience with this.”

The wicked hue in his voice filled the room, hypnotizing Sophia.

She bit his lip and when she released it he groaned, “Aye, again.”

She bit harder this time and he inhaled sharply. She lapped at the bite and pleaded, “I want you, Alistair, all of you. Take me.” Her hand stroked him tightly, making the remaining control he was trying to keep slip away.

Sophia lay down and opened her arms for him. Alistair took off his boxers and sheathed himself with the condom.

His magnificent body rested on top of her. Skin on skin, such a natural feeling, yet so sensual.

“I desire you,” he murmured against her lips, gathering her in his arms, “as I never have with any other woman.” His tongue plunged into her mouth, their lips clashing as he pinned her on the bed.

He kissed her until they were breathless, his legs prying hers open. They moaned in unison.

“Alistair, now, please,” she begged, arching her body and her nails raking his back.

Fuck! Her nails!
Alistair supported himself on one elbow and gazed at her, his beautiful green eyes blazing with passion. His muscles rippled beneath his skin. “What do you want?”

“You, Alistair, I want you.”

He grinned at her and rocked his hips.

She threw her head back and gasped, “Yes, please.”

“You’re everything a man could dream of.” He kissed her, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her mouth.

“Alistair,” Sophia implored.

“I’ll make it last.” In his whispered promise, there was more than a simple wish to prolong the night’s sex.

She felt the broad tip of his shaft teasing her up and down, her lips parted. Her hips jerked from the bed, seeking him, “Please, now.”

When he felt her entrance, he almost lost control as a thrill of molten desire flashed through his spine and he strained not to plunge into her to the hilt.
This is Sophia. She deserves better. Be gentle
.

“Relax, Beauty,” his low, husky voice was edgy. “And enjoy.” He started to leisurely pressure his rigid length into her, at first, just the head to let her adjust to his size.

“More,” she moaned. Her body trembled and she realized her nervousness.
He. Is. Huge
.

He pressed in patiently, with shallow but deliberate thrusts into her tightness. He closed his eyes trying to concentrate, but she rocked into him and he pushed in more than he wanted.

She gasped long and loud in surprise at the sublime, almost painful sensation. Throwing her head back, she gripped the sheets, her eyes closed.
He’s not huge. He’s enormous
.

He stilled. “Sophia, talk to me,” he kissed her throat and jaw. “You okay?”

“Keep going,” she murmured. She wound her legs around his waist and her feet spurred him.

He gave a strained smile, “Easy, easy. You’re so tight.”

His hips started to rock at a steady pace, pushing him deeper until he fully settled inside of her and her muscles firmly clasped him.

I possess her. At last
. He paused to enjoy the feeling and the vision of her face suffused with passion.

Sophia opened her yellow-diamond eyes, her long, raven lashes hooding the desire blazing in them. “Amazing,” she said hoarsely, releasing the sheets to comb his hair back; dragging him down to a scorching kiss.

She felt as his hips pulled back to thrust in. Unhurried, long, deep strokes taunted her, stoking the fire. She gasped and moaned.

His mouth moved sensually over her ear, throat, and shoulder, kissing, nibbling, and licking.

She started to move her hips in time with his, arching her body to rub her breasts on his chest.

He hooked one of her legs by the knee on his arm, opening her wider as his pace increased.

Sophia moaned with pleasure and responding to his softer grunts. She felt the tension build in her body, straining her, and grabbed his biceps hard, nails digging in.

Alistair pushed up on his elbows to look at her. Her head tilted back, her eyes almost closed, her cheeks rosy, and lips red and parted.
She’s a goddess. My goddess
.

“Mine,” the rasped word escaped from somewhere within his chest, “you are mine, Sophia.” He fisted her hair in his hand, yanking her head back to kiss and lick the column of her neck.

“Alistair Connor,” she whispered his name in a caress.

He could feel her tremors getting stronger and dived harder and faster in her, rotating his hips each time he plunged in, driving her out of her mind.

She opened her eyes and arched like a strained bow, seeking out release, almost incoherently, “Please… I need… I want…”

“Let go,” his hoarse voice encouraged, between kisses, fiercely rocking into her, “I’m here to catch you.”

She threw her head back, spasms clamping him into her body as he released. She screamed as the most intense orgasm of her life plunged her into ecstasy and darkness.

His shout joined hers, violent and long.

Alistair fell forward panting hard, crushing her flush to his body, as his own orgasm subsided.

He recovered and withdrew from her, rolling onto his back taking Sophia with him.

Sophia’s head fell on his chest, her eyes shut. The rise and fall of her chest being the only movement of her body.

“Sophia,” he whispered, his breath still ragged. “What you did to me.” He kissed her hair. “You okay?” As he didn’t get any answer, he raised his head. “Sophia?” Sitting on the bed, he pulled her into his embrace, frowning.

Sophia’s head lolled in his arm.

He shook her gently, “Sophia, wake up.”

Think, Alistair Connor, think
.

She was barely breathing and her face was flushed.

Don’t freak out
. “Fuck! Sophia!”

Her eyelids flickered, opening slightly. She murmured, “Don’t… panic.”

“What?” He didn’t understand.

She blinked and her eyes opened, completely in awe, burning him with their yellow-diamond color. “Mmm…” she licked her lips. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He searched her face: her lips were red and swollen; her rosy face had a dreamy look. “You fainted. For what seemed like a lifetime. What are you feeling?”

“I didn’t faint,” she whispered and shut her eyes again.

“Sophia,” he shook her again, concerned, “I’m calling 999.”

“Don’t,” she grabbed his hand, “it’s normal. I’ve never… been… better.” She stared at him, dazzled. “It was… mind-blowing.”

“For Christ’s sake, Sophia, how is this normal? You’re scaring me.” He bent his head and kissed her forehead, hugging her closer. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Yes, just hold me. You have such strong arms,” she ran her face against his chest, purring in contentment like a kitten, “so silky and so hard.” She smiled at him, lazily, “You know you look like a pagan god?”

Alistair chuckled, feeling calmer and repeated her praises, “A pagan god. A Highland warrior.” He shook his head. “I’ll become conceited.”

“You already are…” she whispered, “Lord I’m-so-handsome-and-powerful-and-I-know-it.”

“Lord I’m-so-hand-” He laughed and kissed her. “I’m not conceited.” He laid her down and spooned her. “I’m handsome. And powerful. It’s a fact.”

“Vanity is a sin, Alistair Connor,” she murmured, amazed.

They fit together perfectly, just as he imagined. His arm draped over her waist and his hand on her breast. The other arm cushioned her head. His chin fit exactly over her shoulder.

It seemed eons since he had cuddled after sex. He snuggled her into his body. Her heartbeats were returning to normal, her breath becoming even. “Tell me, you planned this?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“When?” He marveled at her soft, creamy skin, caressing it with the tip of his fingers.

“This afternoon. A few minutes before I called you.” She rolled over on her stomach to look at him and propped her chin on her hand.

She was a vision of paradise with her black hair falling down her back, her lips a deeper red from kissing, legs raised and crossed at the angles.

“That’s why you became so angry in the car-”

“No,” she cut in, shaking her head, “it wasn’t because I wanted to seduce you.” She raked a hand through her hair and tilted her head to the side. “It was because it looked like you didn’t care or need me to miss you, Alistair,” she said softly but with conviction, “which is quite different.” Her face had a pensive air, “Wasn’t I right?” Then she corrected, “Aren’t I? You’re still afraid of commitment? Any kind of commitment?” She gave him a little smile to soften the question. “Even after what I told you?”

“It’s not-” he stopped the lie at her pointed look. “No. I’m not afraid. That’s not the word. I’m fearful. I was badly hurt in my only serious relationship.”

“I understand.” She rolled onto her back, staring at the cerulean-green canopy of her bed. “When I became a widow, I wore my wedding band for a long time.”

“No, Sophia. I don’t think you understand. My case is quite different from yours.” He pushed on his elbow and turned to look at her grimly. “My marriage wasn’t a happy one.” His fingers appeared to have an itch only her body could soothe. “I stopped wearing my wedding ring long before Heather died. I swore on Nathalie’s grave I’d never make the same mistake again.”

She stared at him, astonished, “My God, Alistair.”

“You haven’t-” He sighed. “Nobody told you? Leonard? Or Alice?”

“No, I didn’t let them.”

“Why not?” he asked surprised.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer. Why not?” he insisted.

She considered her answer carefully and looked at him directly in the eyes. “A story has many sides. If you ask my in-laws about what happened between Gabriel and I, they have a version. My brother another one, and so on. What version would matter to you? Theirs or mine?”

“I see.” He stared back at her, his eyes so dark the green was almost gone. So many emotions swirled in them: rage, fear, pain, shame. But not a drop of love. “So you expect me to tell you what happened.”

“No. I don’t have any expectations concerning your past.” She combed his hair tenderly with her fingers. “Tell me when and if you feel like it. Just don’t let your other experiences mar our relationship.”

She then mischievously smiled at him and, pushing up on all fours, crawled over him and straddled him at the waist. Her hands rested on her knees. She eyed him, her head cocked to the side and wetted her lips.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, his lips curling.

A cat-that-got-the-cream smile appeared on her lips. She crossed her arms in front of her body, her hands on her hips, and lifted them slowly, skimming her abdomen, up her torso, brushing her nipples, uncrossing them when she reached her shoulders to stroke her hair at her nape. She lifted her raven strands and let them fall in a cascade.

Fuck
. His cock twisted and applauded the sensual show.
Hmm, the fastest recovery of my life
.

Eyes half-closed, she stretched her arms over her head, bent them, and gripped her elbows, undulating her body. She licked her lips and bit the lower one.
So she also does this when she is turned on
. He went mad with lust.

“Witch!” He grabbed her by the ribs and lowered her for a passionate kiss. He flexed his hips, grinding his erection against her buttocks. He felt as her lips curled in a small grin. His hands ran over her back and he fisted her long hair. He wound her hair around his wrist and softly yanked it back.