Page 46 of Fighting His Fate
She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. She nodded. “Yes.”
He took her hand and led her to the bed, following her body down. He hauled her to his side, her legs opening to him as their mouths met hungrily.
She was dizzy with desire, hot and eager for what came next. His big hand cupped her breast, kneading it gently before taking the peak softly in his mouth. She gasped, surprised little sounds mixing with a sweet, keening moan at the sensation.
He kissed her stomach, his tongue outlining her navel before moving lower, her trepidation rising as he settled between her legs. Her legs jerked awkwardly with anxiety.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Turning his head, he kissed her inner thigh, slow, tender kisses designed to calm her and get her used to him being so close to her like this. When her hip relaxed and her leg fell loosely to the side, his fingers inched upward, exploring the sensitive crease between her legs.
She was breathing heavily, whether from fear or excitement, she couldn’t tell. He ran his finger gently back and forth until she whimpered in clear invitation for more. His finger slipped between her swollen lips, carefully fingering the entrance to her body before sliding up to her clitoris.
Her breath caught as he stroked her skillfully, the sensation feeling better than any had before. “Brett…”
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
Then his mouth was where his fingers had been, his tongue lapping at her sensitive bud, her shock at the bold intimacy of the gesture mingling with the most intense pleasure. Her legs fell open, all tension in her muscles releasing at the sensations coursing through her.
His finger again explored her entrance, teasing and tantalizing her with the promise of something more. He was going to slip that finger inside her, and she wanted him to, but he was toying with her, making her beg. “Please,” she whispered, and his finger slipped inside.
She bucked against him, pleasure rippling through her at his invasion as he lavished her with his tongue, rhythmically massaging her swollen sex and coaxing her closer to orgasm. Her hips twisted against the mattress, her moaning growing louder before her body arched like a bow.
She longed for him to join her completely, but he stayed where he was, stroking her softly as the storm subsided, then moving to lie beside her in bed, lifting his arm so she could come close.
She cuddled with him. “Wow,” she said.
He chuckled in the darkness, his fingernails trailing along her back as he kissed the top of her head. Still she wanted more. Her hand grazed his chest, moving lower until it reached the waistband of his jeans.
“Grace—”
“I want to make you feel what I feel,” she whispered.
“Tonight was about you.”
“But I want—”
“Shh…” he soothed.
She went quiet and still. He wasn’t going to take his pants off, wasn’t going to make love to her after all. Embarrassment at what she’d let him do burned like a glowing ember. It was one thing as a prelude to lovemaking. But this? This was throwing a bone to an angry animal to get her to leave you alone. She moved out of his embrace, suddenly cold.
He came up on his elbow. “Where are you going?”
She wrapped her towel around her but didn’t meet his stare. “Nowhere. I’m stuck right here, remember?”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She picked up her clothes from the dresser.
He sighed heavily, lying back on the bed. “You’re obviously mad at me. I’d like to know why.”
She pulled her shirt over her head, quickly following with her underwear and leggings. “Why would I possibly be mad? You got me off, so I have no further need for you.” She turned and looked at him, anger and disgust warring for the upper hand. “Isn’t that right? I mean, clearly you thought an orgasm was all I was after. It’s not like any woman could ever want more than an orgasm from the great Brett Champion.”
He sat up abruptly. “Now wait a minute. You’re upset because I made you feel good in bed?”
“No, asshole. I’m upset because you did what you had to do to get out of the situation, then stopped. I’d rather you’d never even touched me.”
“I wasbeinga gentleman.”
