Slow Burn (21 page)

She giggled, wrapped her arms around his
neck, and whispered, “Hmm, I think I’m going to thoroughly enjoy
this meal.” Then she locked her lips with his.

CHAPTER 11

Ron allowed her be the aggressor for about
five seconds. Then he took charge of her mouth, her senses, every
breath she took. Vibrant, strong, bending her backward and not
hiding his needs, his kiss drew out every yearning buried deep in
her heart. Breathing became difficult. But then again, who needed
oxygen.

Blood roaring in her ears, warmth unfurling
in her belly, Ashley let her palate savor his taste, a mixture of
mint and coffee. Her mouth danced and mated with his, her body
welcomed the smoldering heat they were generating. It was their
first kiss all over again. The falling apart feeling, the
helplessness and the need so great she felt like screaming.

When he finally moved from her lips to the
side of her face, she took in achy breaths. The sharp clean smell
of his musky aftershave slammed into her, further weakening her.
She pressed closer, needing his strength.

“Ron? I feel…I’m uh….”

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his
chest, pulsing through her. “I feel it too, baby,” he whispered
against her sensitized skin.

His hand moved to her hair tumbling down her
back. He gripped the strands, tugged her head back and trailed his
hot lips along the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. Ashley’s
arms dropped from his neck to brace herself against the table top,
but his arm cradled her, pulled her closer.

His clever hands were gentle yet firm, his
body hard and hot. She squirmed, wanting to get closer, to feel his
skin against hers. She fisted his T-shirt and yanked it from his
pants. She moved lower, found the area where the shirt ended and
skin began, skimmed over smooth, velvet skin draped over lean
muscles. A groaned escaped him, then he went still.

Please don’t stop now. I don’t think I can
stand it.
Her heavy-lidded eyes opened, then narrowed with
confusion. Did she do something wrong? “Ron?”

“Take it off.” His gaze, hot and fierce,
drifted to the buttons in front of her dress, then connected with
hers again. His fingers continued to stroke her arms, but something
devilish danced in the depth of his black eyes. “Slowly, Ashley.
One button at a time.”

What did he want from her? Total surrender?
That was something she’d never contemplate doing with any other
man. Ever since their telephone conversation, when she acknowledged
her growing feelings for him, she thought of nothing else but
making love with him, surrendering to their passion. A hot,
no-strings-attached, fun affair was what she intended to have with
this man. When it was over, and there was no doubt it would be, she
wasn’t going to have one iota of regret.

She licked her lips. “Why don’t you do it
your…?”

He cut off her protest with a marauding kiss
until she was clinging to him, gasping and panting. “I want you to
offer yourself to me,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
“Freely.”

His words, something in the timbre of his
voice, told her the request was important to him. Her desire to
please kicked in. She exhaled through parted lips and gazed at him
from under the canopy of her lashes, as she slowly undid a button,
then another and another. The buttons went all the way to the
middle of her thighs, but she had no intention of going that far.
Just to her belly button. She was experienced enough to know how to
tantalize a man.

As more skin came into view, his breathing
quickened. Good thing she had deliberately not worn a bra. Her
fingers skimmed lazily over her exposed neck, chest, followed the
lapel of her dress to the swells of her breasts. She paused, then
nudged the dress apart so her breasts spilled out. A four-letter
word escaped Ron’s lips. The savagery in his tone sent excitement
pulsing through her body.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was low
and ragged. He cupped the undersides of her breasts and buried his
face in her chest.

His hot, seeking mouth and questing hands
were everywhere. Her nipples pebbled before he could touch them,
begging for attention. When he took them between his thumb and
forefinger and gently teased them, her body jerked and shuddered.
His mouth replaced his fingers and she buckled, her senses
throbbing, liquid heat heading straight between her legs. For a
while, she did nothing but hang on to him.

One of his hands followed the curves of her
body and landed on her knee. Her thighs trembled with anticipation.
He pushed the dress up, stroked her inner thigh and murmured,
“Silk, so soft,” and inched higher. His eyes, bottomless pools of
desire and wickedness, sought hers. “Open up, sweetheart,” he
ordered roughly. “I want to touch you, feel you.”

Ashley released a shaky breath. At this rate,
he was going to push her over the edge in no time. Her fingers dug
into his flesh. Not to stop him. She wouldn’t dare. Her legs
spread, willingly accommodating him.

He pushed the soaking lace of the G-string
panties out of the way and touched her. Instinctively, Ashley
closed her quivering thighs around his hand. Growling an
unintelligible command under his breath, he grabbed the back of one
knee, pushed her leg up until her heel rested on the table. Before
she could protest, he was cupping her, stroking her, sliding a
finger inside her.

“Ron?” she gasped.

“Let me please you,” he mumbled, then his
mouth claimed hers, urgently, possessively.

Her inhibitions dissipated. Ashley writhed
and rocked against his hand. Every single muscle and bone in her
body was in tune with the movement of his fingers. The exquisite
double assault on her senses—his tongue in her mouth, his fingers
in her lower lips, stroking, teasing, giving—were too much. Vibrant
colors exploded behind her close eyes and a sob rose from deep
inside her as her body fell apart.

His mouth swallowed her sob, his tongue
stroking her inner cheeks. His fingers eased out of her, gripped
her panties and yanked. The flimsy material ripped.

“Ron,” she protested weakly.

“Never liked my presents wrapped,” was his
growled excuse.

Her leg slipped from the table top as she
bunched his T-shirt and tried to peel it off his body. “Take it
off,” she whispered, repeating his earlier words.

He gave a brief laugh and helped her with the
shirt then pushed down his pants and underwear and bared himself to
her.

Ashley blinked, tried not to stare, but she
couldn’t pull her gaze away from his magnificent form. He was
thick, long, hard…perfect. A strange wildness rose inside of her.
She reached out, sheathed him with her hand and squeezed.

“Yes,” Ron gasped out with pleasure, tremors
raking his powerful frame. “Harder.”

She became bolder, stroked him, loving the
warm, hard length of him. She wondered what he would taste like. To
feel his long, thick length in her mouth. It would be a major
accomplishment to make him writhe under her teasing mouth. Maybe
later. Not maybe, definitely later.

She scooted her bottom forward, leaned back
and rested her heel on the table top, where he’d placed it earlier,
and offered herself to him. Openly and freely, just as he’d
asked.

For a moment, he stared at her, right there
between her legs, and licked his lips. “Ooh, beautiful.” He pulled
his wallet from the pocket of his pants and yanked out a condom. He
ripped it open and sheathed himself. Kissing her deeply and hard,
his hands reached around her to grab her buttocks. He locked her
gaze with his, then thrust inside of her. She gasped at the
exquisite intrusion, grabbing his arms for support. A rough groan
escaped his lip.

He filled her so perfectly tears gathered in
her eyes. It felt right too. He started to rock inside her, slowly,
lazily. Pulling and plunging to the hilt. Her hips rose, found his
rhythm and matched it. The more he gave, the more she wanted and
gave. She pressed her face on his chest, inhaled his musky scent
and savored the salty taste on his skin. Her hands stroked his
sweaty back, shoulders. When that wasn’t enough, she dug her nails
in his muscles, clawed at him and urged him on.

His movements became more urgent, deeper and
rougher. The sensation, exquisite and overwhelming, slammed into
her, drove her a little crazy. She sunk her teeth on his shoulder.
Bore down hard enough that he let out a guttural cry.

He became frantic, bracing her legs against
his shoulders and forcing her to lean back and prop her body with
her elbows against the table. Almost folding her completely in on
herself, he made love to her as if possessed. A man in need of a
fix. It was wild, exhilarating. The crest, when it hit, swept her
away and elicited another wail from deep inside her. Her nether
muscles contracted around him, and his triumphant yell joined
hers.

***

Blood ceased to roar in his ears and his
trembling body returned to something resembling normal, but Ron
still didn’t want to move. Couldn’t move. His gut ached and his
legs were barely holding him up.

He turned his head to study Ashley’s face—her
eyes closed, lashes black against her rosy skin, lips soft and
swollen. Her trembling body, lush, delicate, curved perfectly and
naturally against his. A feeling he could only identify as panic
sliced through him. He didn’t try to dwell on it, but knew it had
to do with the way she’d made him lose himself. So soon, so
explosive, so exquisite. He’d known sex would be different with
her, but this…this couldn’t compare to anything he’d ever
experienced.

He gave the bite mark on his shoulder a brief
glance and grinned. Feisty little thing she was, a perfect match
for him. The smile disappeared from his lips. He, on the other
hand, was the uncouth maniac. So turned on he hadn’t bothered to
wait for them to get totally undressed before pounding into
her.

Her luscious breasts were still spilling over
her partially unbuttoned dress, the nipples tight and rosy. Like
tiny strawberries. Her panties were ruined, his pants still trapped
around his ankles. He’d behaved like an adolescent at his first
sexual encounter. No wonder she didn’t want to open her eyes and
look at him.

He kissed her closed eyelids, moved along her
cheek until he reached her mouth. She opened up and let him in. So
giving, just like a few minutes ago. He deepened the kiss, desire
pulsating through him, his body needing hers again.

He eased off the kiss. “Sweetheart,” he
whispered. “You’ll eventually have to open your eyes and look at
me.”

She didn’t say anything, just sighed. Ron
scowled. He never had to question the way he handled a woman during
sex, yet the way she was clamming up on him was disconcerting. Had
he been too rough with her? He didn’t think so. They’d both craved
it, needed it fast and furious. The marks on his back were proof
enough.

“Ashley, look at me,” he meant to order her,
but it came out sounding more like a plea.

A smile touched her lips, then her eyes
opened. She reached up and touched his cheek, his lips, moved lower
to press against his heart. “Hey,” she sighed.

The look in her eyes, the gentle caress darn
near did him in. For a brief moment, he was seventeen again,
vulnerable, searching for love and acceptance. “Hey to you too. Are
you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

He studied her expression; saw that she was
avoiding eye contact. He was never the one to initiate conversation
after lovemaking. Never stuck around long enough for it to be an
issue, but with Ashley, it bothered him that he couldn’t tell what
was going on in her head.

“About?” he asked.

She kissed his shoulder. “Hurting you. I
didn’t mean to.”

Something shifted inside him. He studied her
face. Her hazel eyes, dilated, gazed back at him, her lower lip
swollen from their kisses. There was so much love here, so much
tenderness. The thought sent an urgent craving through his
heart.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll wear it with pride.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Want to see more?”

She reached out and stroked his chin, around
his mouth, then ran a finger across his mouth. “Quit teasing.”

He kissed her finger. “I think every bruise
on my body deserves a kiss, but first….” He eased off her, toed off
his shoes and socks and stepped out of his pants and underwear. Her
legs wrapped around his waist and her arms went about his shoulders
for support, as he scooped his wallet and lifted her off the table.
He walked with her to the leather lounge, just like they had
earlier, and sat down, her legs straddling his hips. “We’ll start
with you.”

She drew in a great breath of air, her eyes
widening. “Me?”

“Oh, yes.” He intended to love her slowly,
pay more attention to her beautiful breasts, taste every inch of
her. He peeled her dress off her body and paused to scowl at the
red lace that was once her panties. “I think I was a little rough
earlier.”

She glanced down then flashed a grin. “That’s
debatable.”

Her quirky humor pleased him. He cupped the
undersides of her breasts and flicked his thumbs over the nipples.
“Sorry about that. I’ll buy you dozens,” he shot her a hooded look,
“but I can’t promise not to rip them off you.”

She grinned. “You don’t see me complaining,
do you?”

He laughed. “I like you, Ashley Fitzgerald.”
She made him laugh, drove him crazy as hell with her stubbornness,
and had somehow stormed past his defenses and touched him like no
other woman had. He didn’t know if he was falling in love with her,
just knew she was special.

He nudged her back until she was lying back
on the lounge, his body nestled between her legs. He shifted his
weight to one elbow, then studied her lush body. She had the kind
of curves a man could feast on for hours, days. He ran a finger
down her side. “You have a beautiful body.”