Page 48 of Unapologetic Obsession
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, pulling my knees to my chest.
He wasn’t deterred. With firm hands, he straightened my leg. “Massaging your calf to release endorphins.”
“Why?” I asked between bated breaths.
“Morphine relieves pain by releasing endorphins inside you,” was his unemotional response. “Massages can mimic the same effect to alleviate pain.”
“Oh.”
One of his large hands covered my smaller foot to hold me in place. His composure was infuriating until I saw his heavy-lidded, hooded eyes tracking their way up to my thighs.
Swallowing, I kept the conversation going to distract myself. “What else releases endorphins?” I asked in a trembling voice.
“Everything and anything your body craves, such as…” He paused, building the suspense before saying, “Food.” His thumb kneaded the pressure points to circulate the blood. “Laughter,” he added, his gaze lifting to meet mine. Though he soundeddetached while listing the suggestions, his eyes were the furthest thing from cold. They were two glowing embers, blazing hot and smoldering, ready to consume everything in their path as he finally revealed the last option, “Sex.”
My heart stopped.
Once more, we were discussing one of the biggest questions I had encountered. Did he know the curiosity he had sparked in me? Since the moment he had touched me, I had wanted to know everything about sex. He lit my skin on fire with a simple touch. What he did to me last night… It was so intense it was damn near unbearable.
“Is it working?”
I breathed so harshly that everyone on this ship could probably hear it. Nodding without meeting his gaze was the best I could do to answer his question.
The words hunger and thirst returned to haunt me as his fingers skimmed my bare calf. He was methodical but thorough, as if he were handling the most prized possession. His touch branded me with fire. I imagined it was the equivalent of the ship’s hull scraping against an iceberg—sparks flying with every contact.
I had made the wrong choice. His touch was more addictive than the pain medication. I would be searching the streets for it once he was done with me, not for needles. For the second day in a row, I was mortified by my inappropriate reaction to the man. There was only so much I could take before making more embarrassing sounds.
Losing my patience, I blurted, “What did you do to me last night?”
His fingers paused around my ankle. “Are you referring to the sponge bath?” he asked innocently, though I could almosthearthe smirk in his tone. “Or are you talking about how I made you come afterward?”
I frowned. “Come?”
“I could explain it or…” He scooted closer, and my knees bumped against his thighs. “I could show you.”
My heart pounded so violently that I thought it might give out. I didn’t have the gall to look at him.
His eyes fixed on my body as he gave me a straightforward instruction. “Look at me, not at the floor.”
My eyes snapped to him, fixing on his blue stare deeper than the ocean. The moment I gave him my attention, his hand reached under my robe, tracing the path to my thighs.
I wasn’t given any underwear, and the ones I woke up in were thrown out. I was bare down there, courtesy of the Brazilian wax. I could feel his surprise because he had felt the soft hair there just last night. He didn’t comment on it, arranging his fingers over my… The street slang waspussy.
He brushed over it several times before parting my lips and pressing his fingers against the same spot as last night. My eyes closed, but they reopened when he tugged at my hair with his other hand.
He wanted my eyes on him.
He pressed against the nub, eliciting a soft sound out of me. He slid lower. The wetness between my thighs had nearly soaked my robe. I knew he felt it, too.
“Fuck.” A low groan escaped his lips, potent enough to make my head spin. “Does that feel good?”
My voice trembled as I tried to answer. It wasn’t audible, and my hips followed his hand. The tension between my legs coiled around my body, just waiting for the moment it could unleash. When I moaned, he glanced at me as if the sound belonged to only him, as if all ofmebelonged to him.
His lips moved down the length of my neck, trailing soft kisses—sweet and addictive. His tongue darted out—minty and hot—and finally, he latched onto my skin—heady and primal. Itactivated a response I was unprepared for, lost in the euphoria at the final brink of pleasure.
I didn’t care who heard me, and it seemed neither did he. The more vocal I became, the more possessively he sucked on my neck. When I released a strained moan, he sank his teeth into my flesh like he had lost control and was about to suck me dry like a vampire.
“Oh, God,” I cried, my body rigid with a hand on his collar. I shuddered under him, trembling uncontrollably. It was more potent than last night, my thighs squeezing to keep myself grounded while he worked me into a frenzy. I erupted a second time and screamed so loudly, you’d think I was being murdered.
