Runaway Groom (15 page)

Chapter Twelve

Amy stared up at Ben, her knees barely able to hold her upright after his scorching kiss. Did she want to have sex with sex-on-a-stick Ben?
Does the Pope have an art collection?
“Yes, please.”

He grinned, kissing her again and liquid silver streamed through her. The man was a kissing legend and he’d told her there was nothing wrong with her kisses. She was working really hard on trying to believe him.

“Excellent.” He suddenly frowned. “Do you have condoms?”

She felt the blush hit her and imagined she was fifty shades of pink. “No. Why would I have condoms?”

His sigh was tempered by the indulgent expression on his face. “You’re the most unusual modern woman I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, right, I’m unusual? I can’t say I have men falling at my feet but you, you’re the guy every woman looks at twice. Besides, I thought all guys had a condom in their wallets from age sixteen.”

His face twisted briefly. “Yeah, well it’s been a while.”

Oh, God. She’d just brought his ex-fiancée into the room for a second time in two minutes. She needed to get better at all of this. Fast. “Sorry.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. There are seven bathrooms in this house,” he said, his voice full of strain. “Surely one of them has to have a packet of condoms?”

“You’ve gotta hope.” She moved up on her toes and kissed him, loving the way his arms instantly tightened around her. Loving the feel of his erection hard against her—proof she really did turn him on. She pulled away from him. “Race you for it.”

Knowing there were no condoms in the vanity in her or Ben’s bathroom, she tried the powder room, the bathroom next to her sewing room and the spa room bathroom before running upstairs to check out the bathrooms in the opposite upstairs wing.

Tampons, razors, aftershave, antifungal cream, shampoo and economy packs of ibuprofen tumbled out, pulled forward by her frantic fingers but no condoms. “Oh, come on.”

She had a hunky guy—a guy she really liked—and miracle of miracles, he wanted to have sex with her and there wasn’t a goddamn condom to be found in this mansion. She waved her fist at whatever deity was mocking her. What was wrong with the Rasmussens? Was their wealth better than sex?

Undeterred, she kept looking but when she’d totally emptied the cabinet, her breath froze in her throat. What if this delay made Ben come to his senses and realize what he was doing?

She didn’t even want to think about it.

“Amy!”

She ran to the catwalk and stared down at Ben who was standing at the base of the stairs.

“Any luck?” he called up.

She shook her head. “Nothing. You?”

He grinned and slid a strip of foil squares out of his sling.

She clapped her hands. “Where did you find them?”

“The carriage house. Seems that the guests party more than the Rasmussens.”

“So we’re playing to type?”

“Damn straight.” He took the stairs two at a time until he was standing next to her and pulling her close. “Your room or mine?”

The deep rumble of his voice set off a delicious raft of tingles. “How about the first one we find?” Grabbing his left hand she tugged him into the nearest bedroom.

He laughed. “I like the way you think.”

Emboldened by his words, she whipped up his T-shirt, easing it over his injured arm like she’d done twice a day for ten days, only this time she had carte blanche to stare and touch his chest in open admiration.

She splayed her fingers against his ribs and pressed an awe-filled kiss to each of his nipples.

He stiffened against her. “And yet you said you weren’t any good at this.”

His husky voice wrapped around her and she raised her head to meet his now-velvet-green eyes, which were ablaze with need for her. It deafened the past. “I’m making it up as I go along.”

He kissed her again and when he broke away he said, “I suppose I could risk my shoulder and undo those buttons on your blouse.”

Feeling safe, she slowly popped the bottom button on her blouse. “I wouldn’t want you to risk further injury.”

He grinned, his gaze glued to her. “You’re all heart.”

She undid the next few buttons until the only one closed was the one over her already-undone bra. She walked him back to the bed and then put both her hands on his shoulders, gently pushed him down until he was sitting on the bed and his face was level with her breasts.

He snuggled his face against the material and sighed. Then his hands were on her waist and in one quick movement he tugged her shorts to her ankles. She stepped out of them and then realized that the only thing covering her jelly belly was her blouse and it was about to come off and expose all.

Panic filled her. What the hell was she thinking trying to be a sexy siren in front of a perfectly proportioned, buff and totally toned guy when she really needed to lose five or ten pounds? She stepped back, tugging the edges of the blouse together.

“Amy?” His hand touched the one clutching her blouse. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone white.”

“I...you’re...” His heat flowed into her, addling her brain and making her body pant. “Me naked is not a pretty sight.”

He stood up and tilted her chin so she had no choice but to look him straight in the eye. “The first time I met you, you were naked and believe me, you’re more than pretty.”

She bit her lip wanting to believe him but she clearly remembered that encounter. “You told me I wasn’t your type.”

“I lied. You’ve had me going hot and hard from the moment I met you.”

Surprise and relief tumbled into each other. “Same.”

He kissed her but not hard and fast like the last few kisses, but gently as if she was going to break in his arms.

A sob rose to the back of her throat and she had to fight to stop it escaping. His tongue darted into her mouth, blanking her mind, and her body took over. She returned the kiss, dueling with him until, with ragged breathing, he pulled away. “So are you going to slip that blouse off or will I tug it off with my teeth?”

She shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall at her feet and then she leaned forward and the bra straps slid down her arms until they slipped off over her hands.

“Look up, Amy.”

Oh
,
Lord
,
this is it.
With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she lifted her head.

“Atta girl. Now I want to explore every gorgeous inch of you.”

This time he sat her on the bed before kneeling between her legs as if he was paying homage to her and then he did. His mouth played over hers in an erotic kiss as his hands fondled her breasts with soft, enticing touches that made her body ache for more. Slowly, his mouth moved from hers, trailing down her jaw, across her collarbone and then, kiss by kiss, he traversed her breastbone until he’d buried his face in her cleavage.

She dropped her face into his hair, breathing in the mint and pine scent, letting it wash through her and convince her that this was really happening.

His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking it in, abrading it with his tongue and she yelled out in pleasure as a flood of sensations she’d never known before exploded inside her. Her hands gripped his head as she writhed under the delicious assault of his tongue.

“Amy.” His voice was muffled. “I can’t move.”

“Sorry.” She quickly dropped her hands, not knowing quite where to put them. She wanted to touch him but she didn’t know where because she didn’t want to get in the way of him doing what he was doing. She never wanted him to stop doing that.

He raised his head, his face split with a grin. “I’m hearing and feeling that you liked that.”

Her face was on fire. She’d never had so much conversation during sex. “I did. I do.”

“Good, because there’s more where that came from.” He turned his attention to her other breast and she felt like her body was floating on a wave of sensation. Then his mouth was on her belly, his tongue drawing a moist, tingling line directly down.

It was like fireworks on the Fourth of July—every nerve ending exploded, releasing pleasure into her veins that raced and caught up with more pleasure until it built into a living, breathing thing that demanded more.

“Amy, lie back.”

She did as he asked, realizing with a jolt of surprise she would have done anything he said if it meant feeling like this. She lifted her hips and quickly discarded her panties.

The next moment, his lips were grazing her thighs. Feeling both wanton and utterly amazing, she instinctively pulled her legs up and let them fall open so Ben could have free and easy access.

“You’re beautiful.” He breathed out the words and then kissed her where no man had ever kissed her before.

“Oh, God, that’s...” But she lost the power of speech as his tongue found the perfect spot. Her head thrashed back and forth as the intoxicating spiral of need that promised release and yet at the same time demanded she let go of everything and climb with it, caught her in a swirl that spun her so fast she could barely breathe.

Her muscles quickened, pulling up and craving something to grip. “Ben...I...want...you.”

“This one’s for you.” He slipped two fingers inside her.

She cried out in a combination of relief and disappointment and all the while his tongue kept doing that amazing thing. She lost track of where she was and the pressure of the mattress underneath her fell away. All she knew was that this was the most delicious pain she’d ever known and it was taunting her that there was more. Her body begged her to let go and follow, and feeling safe with Ben, she gave over to it.

Her body twitched and writhed as pleasure exploded, raining down on her in streamers of silver and gold before pouring through her fast and then slow, until every single cell was sated. Slowly her vision came back into focus and her breathing slowed and she lifted her head to see Ben’s smiling face leaning over her. “That was... I... Words can’t explain it,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”

He grinned at her. “You’re welcome.”

“No, really, thank you.” She felt the heat of her blush wash over her but she didn’t care. “That’s...ah...never happened to me before.”

He suddenly looked worried. “But you’ve had sex before, right?”

“Yes, just not very often.”

His jaw dropped. “This was your first orgasm?”

She pressed her hand to his cheek, wanting to hide the disbelief that scored it. “I thought I might have had one before but you just very effectively disproved that theory.”

His expression was a combination of sadness and unadulterated pride. “Obviously, Australian men make better lovers.”

She laughed. “Apparently so. I can’t promise I’ll be any good at returning the favor, but I can try.” She reached for the snap on his jeans.

His gaze burned hers with pure desire and his hand caught hers, trapping it. “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather come buried deep inside you than in your hand.”

Embarrassment and an odd sort of relief tangoed at his straight talking. “I’d like that too.” She tugged at his pants, just like she’d done the night she met him, only this time she didn’t have to imagine what was under the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. This time she could see him in all his glory.

His erection sprung free and she stared at it in delighted fascination. Sex up until today had been more of a wham-bam affair of fumbling in the dark and definitely devoid of gazing. “You’re not circumcised,” she said without thinking.

He laughed, pressing the condom packet into her hand. “It was out of fashion thirty years ago.”

“Oh.” She stared at the foil and then back at him, once again feeling out of her depth.
Just say it.
“Today’s a day of firsts for me, Ben. I’ve never put a condom on a guy before and you’re going to have to talk me through this.”

He smiled at her but there was no trace of pity in his eyes at all. In fact, she saw the glitter of excitement.

“I’m starting to see definite advantages to having sex with an inexperienced woman.”

“Really?” She couldn’t see how that was remotely a turn-on. “All the women’s magazines tell me that men like sexually adventurous women who take charge.”

He flinched and she wondered if he’d bumped his shoulder.

“Don’t believe everything you read,” he said before he kissed her quickly and thoroughly. “Ready for lesson one?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now we’re talking.”

He told her how to open the condom packet at the little tear and how to squeeze the air out of the tip.

“Oh, it’s so slippery,” she said, laughing as she touched the latex.

“All the better to slide into you,” he said, his eyes darkening.

Her heart rate picked up and with a slightly trembling hand, she rolled the condom over him, amazed at how hard and smooth he was and how wonderful it felt against her palm. “There you go.”

“You make it sound like you just put on a bandage,” he said with a bemused look.

“More like a raincoat, really,” she giggled.

“That’s enough talking.” His voice was huskier than ever. “Now straddle me.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed. “I’d love nothing more than to have you under me with your legs wrapped high around my back, but I can’t support my weight with this bloody shoulder. I’d suggest doggie style but I want to be able to see your face so you’re going to have to ride me.”

Doggie style?
Ride him.
Oh, God, the most adventurous she’d ever got was—
Not now.
Don’t think about that now.

“I’ve never been on top. I might not know how.”

“Sweetheart, you’ll be great.” His face filled with encouragement. “There’s no right or wrong here. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t and we’ll find our rhythm. Remember to listen to your body and the rest will be amazing.”

She stared down at him and realized that for the first time ever she was having sex with a man who had faith in her. A man who wanted her to have as much of a good time as he was planning on having.

She leaned down and kissed him before moving over him. Using her hand to guide him into her, she felt herself slowly opening until she was fully impaled on him in the most glorious way. “Oh.”