Burned Deep (29 page)

“It wasn't so much a suggestion as a statement of fact,” he said. He was thick and hard.

My mouth watered.

I would never get over how fabulously built he was.

He lifted me into his arms and headed to the hallway.

“Where are we going now?” I asked in between nibbling his earlobe.

“My bedroom.”

“That wasn't it?”

“No. I didn't know how messy we might get with the oil, so I set up that room.”

“We could have gotten messier.”

He grunted in that animalistic way that sent zings through me. “The intention was the massage. You're lucky I could contain myself enough to give it to you.”

“Oh, you definitely gave it to me,” I said in a flirty tone that was wholly uncharacteristic of me. Guess he brought out my fun side in addition to the naughty one.

“Nice to see
you
have a sense of humor.”

“You're right.” It wasn't as though I let it see the light of day all that often.

We entered another room—an even bigger one than the last. The mammoth rock-trimmed corner fireplace glowed. No candles or other light. Just the fire.

He set me on the edge of the bed and said, “I'll be right back.”

As he vanished in the direction in which we'd just come, I suspected he went to blow out all the candles.

I stood and took in the more masculine room, decorated with deep-bronze silk drapes and a duvet. Large, distressed brown leather chairs and round wooden tables of varying heights. Books scattered everywhere, even stacked on the wood floor. No personal pictures, as was the case throughout the house, that I'd seen. But I did spy framed artwork on the walls. Several penciled schematics of famous vessels like the
Titanic,
the
Hindenburg,
and the Hughes H-4 Hercules—the
Spruce Goose
—which my dad had once taken me to see on display at the Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum in Oregon, after it'd been moved from its previous Long Beach home.

I stole a peek at some of the authors of the hardbacks lying about. Tolkien, Browning, Shakespeare, Hawthorne, Dickens.

So Dane liked the classics. Classic literature, classic artwork—or modes of transportation, possibly. Historic, inspirational, intellectual things. That told me more about him than any photo snapped at the Grand Canyon could, I surmised.

I wondered if he liked
Casablanca
.
Gone with the Wind
.
The Prince of Tides
.

What sort of music did he listen to? I scanned the room, looking for an iPod speaker or other sound system. Nothing. I was curious to know if, given that he'd admitted to not having thought about adding tunes to our seductive rendezvous in the other room—when he'd gone to the trouble of scattering rose petals—he might prefer the sounds of nature. The creek, the wind, the thunder and lightning when we had it.

I found something very stimulating about that.

I sat on the bed as he returned. I slipped between the silky ecru sheets and he joined me.

“I took you for more of an absurdly high-count Egyptian cotton bedding sort,” I teased.

“That would be correct.”

I rubbed the lavish sateen between my fingers and thumb. “So … for me, again?”

He grinned. “Thought you'd like it.”

“I do.” The man didn't miss a thing. Even the lack of music had been perfect, whether he'd known it or not. I might have missed all of his desire-roughened breaths with something playing too loudly in the background.

I snuggled close to him. “Flannel.”

Brushing a few curls from my face, he said, “You lost me.”

“I like flannel sheets. In the winter. Keeps me warm.”

His head dipped and his lips grazed my temple as he murmured, “I'll keep you warm.”

My heart fluttered once more.

He added, “You can even rub your feet against mine if they get cold.”

“That was romantic,” I told him. “You're getting good at this. Not that I'm surprised. Is there anything you don't excel at?”

His jaw instantly clenched. He immediately corrected the tense gesture.

“Let's just say you inspire me.”

I saw that he meant those words. I also noted that there was something ominous around the fringes. The dangerous look that crossed his face when he went to that dark place in his mind.

“You're thinking about the Lux?”

“No.” His fingers swept over my cheek. “I'm thinking about you. Only you. And how much I want you again.”

“Oh.
You're in luck, then.” I straddled his lap. Reached toward the nightstand where he'd dumped condoms. I did like how prepared he was—in mass quantity, no less. I clearly wasn't the only one thinking once would never be enough.

My fingers shook a little with anticipation as I tore open the packet. Dane's hands covered mine to steady them as I rolled the condom down his erect cock. My hand slid up and down—he was just too tempting.

“That feels good.” His eyes blazed. “But you know what I really want.”

Adrenaline pumped through me. “Yes.”

I shifted slightly and his tip slid along my slick folds to my opening. His hands clasped my hips and I eased down, this time perfectly fine with drawing him in slowly, relishing every inch as he filled and stretched me.

Our gazes connected. My fingers curved around his shoulders. He thrust deep. The air rushed from my lungs.

“Dane.” He felt incredible.

He moved languidly. Heat flared in his emerald irises, but emotion edged in. His jaw worked. His grip on my hips tightened. I did things to this man. For the life of me, I didn't know what, but it was stamped over his hard features.

Warmth flooded me, not just from the way we made love. It was everything—the way he made me feel, the way he responded to me, the way he watched me so closely, so astutely.

He sat up, thick and hard, deep in my pussy. One of his hands swept hair from my shoulder and cheek. Then his fingers trailed along the column of my neck, over my collarbone. Downward to palm my breast. His head dipped and his tongue fluttered against my puckered nipple, eliciting a tingly sensation that spread throughout my body. He suckled deep and I gasped.

My head fell back on my shoulders, my eyelids closing. He squeezed my breast firmly and his tongue flickered over the taut peak. His other arm slipped around my waist, possessively holding me to him. I rocked slightly, losing myself in the feel of him and all the pleasure he sparked.

“The frankincense on your skin is even more addictive than the ice cream,” he murmured against my breast. His warm breath teased my nipple tighter. “This scent is perfect for you.”

I had to admit, it captivated me as well, one more element to make this the most sensual experience of my life.

“I'm tempted to lick it off every inch of you,” he said.

A soft moan fell from my lips. “I officially concede that whatever you want to do to me will be spectacular.”

“Nice to see I've finally won you over.”

“Something tells me you never doubted you would.”

“You do know how I feel about winning.”

I briefly worried if I really was the kill he'd been searching for—and whether he'd want me now that he'd had me.

But then he leaned back against the mountain of pillows, bringing me with him. His hands returned to my hips and his leisurely pace kicked into high gear. All concern fled my mind. I didn't think about or concentrate on anything other than Dane and the excitement racing through me.

I was sprawled across his expansive chest, my fingers clutching his shoulders again as he guided me to lift a bit off him. He palmed my ass with both hands, spreading me wider, and pumped into me. Swiftly, skillfully. I let out a small cry as he thrust deep and fast, hitting all the right notes.

“Oh, God,” I moaned. My breasts pressed to his pecs and I clung to him as his hips bucked wildly, pushing us both to the edge. “Yes, Dane. God—oh, God—
yes
!” I called his name as I came, fiery sensations ripping through me.

“That's it,” he said on a low rumble. His hands on my ass forced my pelvis down and I ground against him as I clenched him. “Fuck, yeah. Just like that, baby. Just … like—oh, Jesus.” His grip on me tensed and he thrust harder. I felt him explode deep within me. His satisfied growl filled the quiet room.

His arms circled me, crushing me to him. My head dropped to the crook of his shoulder and I breathed heavily against his neck.

“God, Dane,” I muttered. “You are so unbelievably good.” I'd lost count of the night's orgasms. But each one had been astounding.

My heart thundered in time with his. I felt giddy, light-headed. My entire body tingled; my skin burned.

And still, I wanted more.

He stroked my hair, my spine. I wasn't sure I'd ever catch my breath. Wasn't sure I wanted to, really.

“I'm definitely okay with nothing being off-limits,” I told him.

“Good. I've only just started.…”

I snuggled a little closer, though I was pretty much already glued to him. Inhaling his heat and cologne, I held the scent of him in my lungs before letting out a long sigh. “You're delicious. So masculine. So…” I laughed self-deprecatingly at my scrambled brain. “So sexy.”

His fingertips continued to graze my spine. A tantalizing touch. One that kept me aroused.

He remained quiet for a minute or two. My eyes closed. I breathed him in, wondering how I'd existed pre-Dane.

I was lost in some lustful fog when he finally broke the silence.

“It'd be all right, you know,” he said in his rich, intimate voice. The one that made my insides quiver.

I lifted my head, stared into his eyes. “What would be all right?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He held my gaze and said, “If you fell in love with me.”

I gaped.

He added, “Even if it's just a little.”

“Oh.”
Emotion seeped through my veins, welling so that a hard lump rose in my throat.

He gazed unwaveringly, smoothing away hair from my forehead and temple.

I couldn't speak. Had no idea what to say.

“Ari.” His lips brushed mine, tangling softly, sweetly. “I won't hurt you.”

That promise again.

I had nothing to say. I could have told him I didn't think I was wired that way, that it wouldn't happen.

But the fluttering of my heart this evening and the scarcity of my breath told me I might be wrong.

I might have already fallen … hard.

 

chapter 16

I woke surrounded by heat and hard muscles. Completely enveloped in Dane's strength, his territorial embrace. His erection pressed against my side.

I smiled.

Despite the tender spots, my body responded instantly.

I'd slept more soundly than I could ever remember. Multiple orgasms and a world-class massage left me boneless and dreamless. Relaxed from head to toe. With the exception of the electric current Dane elicited.

“Are you awake?” I whispered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Oh, good.” I dragged his hand down to the apex of my legs. “Do you want to be inside me again?”

“You know I do.”

Seconds later he was sheathed and sliding into me from behind. His fingers stroked my clit as he moved slowly.

“Not too sore?” he asked.

“The only thing I feel is you. And that's perfect.”

He let out a soft
humph,
then increased the tempo. The quick, sexy rhythm set my pulse racing.

“God, you make me hot,” he said. His arm was wrapped around me, one hand caressing my breast. Between my legs, his fingers slid along my folds, then one flitted quickly against the knot of nerves. All the while, he thrust deep.

My fist curled around the sheet and little whimpers of desire and need fell from my lips. How I'd gone from containing my physical involvement with anyone to instantly craving Dane's touch was beyond me, but I had an insatiable need for him.

“Fuck me,” I whispered between torn breaths. “Harder.”

He plunged into me. Pumped stronger.

“Yes. Just like that.” My grip tightened on the bedding.

He kissed my shoulder, my neck. Bit lightly, making me writhe beneath him. “You like my hard cock inside you.”

“Yes.”

“Thrusting deep.”

“Yes.”

“Until you come.”

“Oh, God!” I did … and Dane fell apart with me.

Our harsh breaths mingled in the quiet morning. The throbbing of his cock beat in time with the pulsating vibe in my core. It became another few precious moments I could have reveled in for all eternity.

He seemed to have similar thoughts. “If I didn't have a hotel to open, I'd stay buried in your sweet pussy all damn day.”

I grinned. “And I'd let you.”

With a low grunt, he finally disentangled himself. Then he tossed off the bedcovers and climbed out of bed. “Feel free to use my bathroom. I've got one in the dressing room.”

My brow crooked. “You have a dressing room?”

“I converted a bedroom to accommodate a larger bathroom in here.”

“Yes, I noticed it deserves its own zip code.”

He smirked. “I'll fix breakfast before we head to the Lux. Meet me on the patio when you're ready.”

“And he cooks,” I quipped, admiring everything about the man. “Let me guess—you studied the fine art of crêpes suzette at Le Cordon Bleu Paris?” I said it a bit haughtily.

He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Betty Crocker.”

I watched him strut out of the room, naked and gorgeous.

This was all so surreal. Yet a shiver of excitement ran along my spine at the thought of him—and the way he touched me. The things he said. The way he made me feel.

I slipped from the bed with a smile on my face. I collected my tote and the stunning nightgown and robe and then returned to his bathroom. I showered and pulled the robe on, loving the rich satin against my skin. I did my hair, but the smell of strong coffee lured me away from the mirror.