Sweet Seduction Shield (37 page)

"I don't know
if I want a bath at all," I argued.

"Come on." He
started pulling me towards the bathroom off our bedroom. "Let me
run one and then you can decide."

He settled me
on a stool in the corner and then fussed around pouring bath foam
into the running water and lighting a couple of candles on the
windowsill. I couldn't help but smile at his efforts. At any other
time, with any other thoughts running through my head, it would
have been romantic.

He turned to
look at me, that intense gleam in his eyes. The candlelight
flickered, making the colours melt and gold and reds flare up in
amongst the brown.

"Do you want
me to undress you?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer.
"Just so you know, that would be my preferred." I smiled, huffing
out a snort of amusement despite myself. "But I gotta be honest
too. If I undress you, there'll be kissing and fondling and licking
and maybe biting, and well, the bath might get a little cold."

The smile
widened as I began to slip out of my t-shirt and undo my jeans.

He growled,
but just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against
the wall, eyes half-lidded.

I hadn't
actually thought about how easy it was to be with this man. How
comfortable and natural. How undressing in front of him, while he
hungrily watched and made no bones about wanting to touch and
taste, was a simple thing to do. No embarrassment. No hesitation.
Just a swelling of tingles inside my stomach, butterflies on the
wing, electricity arcing out between us.

But he made no
move to breach the gap, he just leaned back, breathed deeply, and
enjoyed the show.

I slipped into
the bath and let the warm water envelope me, the strawberry
smelling bubbles floated around my breasts, kissing my skin,
clinging where Ryan's eyes clung to.

"Fuck, you're
beautiful," he murmured, moving to kneel beside the bath.

"Aren't you
getting in?" Amazing how he could get me to live outside of myself,
just by being him, just by being near, just by letting me be me. He
didn't demand I snap out of it. He didn't tell me not to worry. He
didn't try to make me do something I couldn't stomach right now. He
never judged. He just watched and waited, waiting for me to come
back to him where it was safe and he was my courage, my rudder,
guiding me straight through the storm.

"In case you
didn't realise this yet," he purred, picking up a sponge and
coating it in liquid soap. "I like watching."

"Oh," I said,
sinking down into the water, feeling light again, my body floating,
my heart lifting off along side it. "I had noticed."

"Mmmm," he
murmured. "But, maybe, just a little touch."

His hand
snaked out and a hot palm wrapped around my breast, thumb and
forefinger rubbing my nipple. One simple touch and I was on fire.
All other thoughts but Ryan's hands fled from my mind.

"Look at
that," he husked. "Begging for my teeth."

"You'll get
wet," I pointed out.

"Ah, but are
you?"

My thighs
pressed together.

"Need a little
incentive?" His head dipped over the edge of the bath and his lips
latched onto my nipple, followed swiftly by his teeth. I arched my
back, rising out of the water so he could breath. Bath foam hung
off his nose, coated his beard, and all I could do was moan.

His hand
slipped between my thighs and he said, voice rough, against my
breast, "Tell me to stop, Tiger."

Tiger. Whether
he knew it or not, 'Tiger' was my call to arms. The nickname made
me feel brave, capable, in charge of my world and able to do
whatever I pleased. And what pleased me was his fingers finding my
folds and sweeping up and back down.

"I can't tell
if you're wet or not," he groaned.

I spread my
legs, giving him more access. His finger dipped inside.

"Ah, there it
is. Wet. Fuck." One hard, thick digit thrust deep inside. "That
could be my cock."

Another pump.
I moaned, my eyes closed, my head rolled back on the edge of the
bath. A second finger got added to the first. He slowly pressed
them in, and then dragged them back out. I whimpered.

"You want my
fingers to fuck you slow or fast?" he asked, his breath tickling
the skin around my areola.

"Fast," I
breathed, my hands coming up onto the edge of the bath to hold me
steady.

His fingers
pumped harder, picked up pace, started to thrust into me in a way I
could imagine his cock thrusting into me. His teeth and tongue
nibbled and licked one breast, while his free hand squeezed and
pinched the other. It was almost too much. Too many points of
stimulation. I'd started panting, writhing, the water slopping
about inside the tub.

The moment
stretched, the world outside the bathroom, - hell, outside this
bath - forgotten, just his hands, his teeth, his tongue and the
image of his cock. Impaling me, pumping me, stretching me. I
realised he was scissoring his fingers, his thumb rubbing against
my clit on each thrust forward. I felt full, even though I knew if
his shaft was inside me this would not compare. But right now,
right in this second, as he fucked me with his fingers and loved me
with his mouth, it was pure bliss.

"Ryan," I
moaned.

"That's it,
babe. Show me how beautiful you are."

Oh God. Oh
God. I may have said that out loud because Ryan groaned, his
fingers pressed harder, stretched me wider, his thumb doing exactly
what needed to be done to bring me home.

The water
splashed over the sides of the tub, soaking him where he knelt. My
head rolled over the unforgiving porcelain of the bath's rim, my
body ached, my core clenched, my breaths rasped and heart
pounded.

And then he
bit me. Hard. Right on the side of my breast. It sent me flying and
Ryan deftly caught me, his fingers bringing me back down, his thumb
lengthening the exquisite moment, his lips murmuring soft and sexy
encouragements against my bruised skin.

When I came
back to reality he'd removed his hands and was kneeling back
staring at the mark he'd left. I glanced down and winced. He
frowned.

"Sorry. You
seemed to need a little something to tip you over that edge." He
looked contrite, if not a little mesmerised by his teeth marks on
my pale skin.

I brushed a
finger over the spot, a small smile lifting up the edges of my
lips.

"Rough, huh?"
I asked. He actually blushed.

"Maybe just a
little." He held his thumb and forefinger up about a centimetre
apart. "That fucking turned me on," he said, indicating his bite
mark with a nod of his head.

"Stand up," I
softly ordered, and watched him give me a smirk and rise up on his
knees so I could see the bulge in his jeans. It must have been
painful, all of that beautiful hardness contained in such a small
place.

I pulled
myself to the edge of the bath and with dripping wet fingers slowly
undid his button, then lowered his zip. His chest rose and fell too
quickly, his eyes devoured mine when I looked up. This man turned
me on with a heated gaze. Set me free with his kisses and touch.
Grounded me with his presence. Made me forget everything else but
him, and now, and us.

I'd never
thought I could have this again. Not just because finding someone
who 'gets you' and falling in love is so damn hard. But because I'm
a single mother with a five year old daughter and a haunted
past.

But Ryan
Pierce had made it all so very easy. He found me. We fell in love.
He loves my daughter and wants to be her father. Easy.

My hand
slipped into the opened flap of his jeans and in seconds soaked his
trunks, the bulge of his erection jerked, and with careful hands I
lowered his jeans and underwear down his hips, releasing his proud
cock.

"Fuck," he
whispered, looking down at my wet, naked form, right before his
arousal.

He liked to
talk dirty to me, so I licked my lips, watched as his eyes burned
with fire, and said, "I'm going to suck you hard and fast." He
swallowed. "How deep do you want me to go?"

He panted a
bit before he got the words out.

"All the way."
It was almost a plea.

"You wanna
fuck my mouth fast and deep?" I added with a wicked grin, knowing
that was exactly how Ryan liked it.

"Fuck, yes,"
he breathed above me, his hand coming up and cupping my cheek,
tilting my head, the other already fisting in my hair.

"Me too," I
said on a breath of expelled air as he guided his tip to my lips. I
tasted pre-come. I tasted him. The broad ridge at the top slipped
over my lips, the flesh like silken steel as he smoothed over my
tongue.

Then with one
guttural grunt, centred in the middle of his chest, he pushed
forward, testing to see how far I'd take him on that first pump. I
swallowed as he went deep, he swore again, his hands shaking. Then
when he was certain I was ready for him, he started a rhythm,
established a sensual glide in and soft, slow withdraw. His breaths
came in short huffs, his lips parted on little moans mixed with
sexy grunts, and his hips rocked hypnotically before me, as his
cock fucked my mouth.

It was
sublime. I was lost in his little noises, in the shaking of his
limbs, in the rapid beat of his pulse in his wrist, in the hunger
and love that shone in his eyes. The taste of him. The feel of him.
The sight and sound of him. It was pure bliss. I couldn't get
enough.

And although he went fast and deep, he constantly watched me
with an intensity that bordered on manic. Every reaction I had, he
catalogued. Every response I gave, he altered to accommodate my
wants or likes. He never pushed too far, he paced himself to
match
my
hunger,
my
need,
my
desire.
All the while he lost himself in my mouth.

I felt him
swell, I felt him falter. His breaths stuttered, the grunts became
urgent, and just as his grip in my hair tightened and the look he
gave me turned up the heat in the room by about five hundred
degrees, his fucking cellphone went off.

He swore blue
murder, started to pull back, and even though I knew who was on the
other end of that call, and even though I knew what it would be
about, I gripped his hips, pulled him back into me and scraped his
length with my teeth, offering a small nip at the top on the way
back out.

Fucking hell.
He detonated. His cry of surprise segued into a raunchy grunt as he
collapsed jerkily forward, somehow managing to slip from my lips
instead of going deeper in my mouth. His hand was on the base of
his cock already, so he stroked - once, twice - and in a
mesmerizing erotic display came all over the side of the bath, and
over me.

"Fuck," he
breathed out above me, his finger dipping into his release on my
upper chest. "Sorry," he muttered, I just raised my brow. "Not
sorry?" he said on a laugh, reaching for his still ringing
cellphone.

I held his
eyes as he swiped the call open, one hand wrapped around his cock
still, the other coated in his release from my chest and on the
phone. He licked his lips, cleared his throat and said,
"Pierce."

I held my
breath, absently ran my hand over my chest, Ryan's eyes tracking
the move with a decidedly masculine satisfied air, and then they
came back up to mine.

"Well, that
just turned a fucking fantastic day into a fucking stellar one," he
declared, eyes still locked on mine.

"What?" I
mouthed, but my lips barely moved. He leaned down, phone still to
his ear and kissed me deeply. I was sure Dominic would have heard
the sounds.

When he pulled
back he was beaming. "I'll tell her. Thanks, Dom," he said, closing
the call with another thumb swipe. He threw the phone onto the
chair in the corner and then leaned over the bath, his jeans
halfway down his legs, his semi-hard cock jutting out proudly
between us, glistening with his release, matching my chest.

"You're free,"
he announced, kicking off his shoes, yanking off his socks,
following that with a quick removal of his t-shirt, jeans and
trunks. Then he stepped into the water between my legs, sank
beneath the waves and wrapped his arms around my waist.

Chest to
chest, face to face, he said, "Did you hear me? They've cleared you
of any culpability, thanked you for your assistance, and they're
sure the ledger alone will be enough."

"Enough?"

His hand came
up and brushed my hair aside gently, then wrapped around the side
of my neck with care.

"Enough to
send Roan McLaren away for a very long time, and from the sounds of
it, most of the upper echelon of New Zealand's criminal society.
They're calling this the biggest coup for the legal system in NZ in
one-hundred-and-fifty years. All because of you."

"Wow."

"Wow," he
repeated. "You happy?"

I nodded.

"You OK?"

I smiled.
Another nod.

"You realised
you want it yet?"

For a second I
just stared at him, then his lips tipped up in that wicked
smirk.

"A man's gotta
take his chances when he sees them," he whispered, hot breath
against my lips. "I might have caught you at a weak, euphoric
moment," he added.

"Then if
that's your plan, you should have asked me when your fingers were
still inside my pussy."

"Ah," he
continued to whisper, shifting his hips to slide between my thighs.
His returning erection made itself known. "Then I better get back
to work."

I laughed
beneath him as his lips began to slide across my shoulder towards
my neck. My fingers threaded in his hair, my head tipped back, a
smile on my face. And for once, since this all started, I felt
completely and utterly at ease. No counting. No need to frantically
clean. Nothing but free.