And yet it had to be borne, every day, in every way, over and over again until the end, and if a guy was lucky, every now and then, he’d end up with a complicated woman in his arms, somebody who could turn him inside out.
“Suzi,” he spoke her name, grounding her with it, bringing her back to him.
She slid her arms farther around his neck, and he kissed her cheek.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, sugar,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her again, and he felt her soften against him.
Sex was a funny thing, and he was thinking about it, but it was all up to her. He wanted to make love with her, to ease her pain, to remind her there was life, always, the flame of it burning deep inside, to give her pleasure and ease her mind.
Yeah, he was such a great, selfless guy.
He wanted to fuck her so sweet, to make her come apart in his arms, to make her his. He wanted to come so deep inside her, to claim her.
Suzi, Suzi Q… sugar baby-he wanted to taste her, make her.
He opened his mouth on her neck and slid one hand down over the curve of her hip to pull her closer, to bring her up against him, and she turned her face into his neck and softly brushed her lips across the skin she’d made wet with her tears.
It was enough.
He kissed her neck, using his teeth so gently, licking her with his tongue and then sliding his mouth to hers and kissing her deep, angling his head to get more of her. Handful by handful, he dragged her skirt up over her ass, giving himself the access he needed. When he had the skirt up around her waist, he slid his hand underneath her white organic cotton panties, over the softest skin he’d ever touched, over the perfect curves of her derriere.
And he fell in love all over again, with the sweet softness between her legs, with the promise of her body.
You and me, babe. Just the two of us in the whole world. Right here. Right now.
Her hands were on his belt, but before he shucked out of his pants, he knelt down and unlaced his boots. Then he reached up, one-handed, and pulled her panties down around her ankles and helped her step out of them.
Moonlight had never looked so pretty as it did on her bare skin and the soft curls between her legs.
He was smitten, the scent and loveliness of her going straight to his head and messing with it. Nothing was better. Leaning forward, he pressed his tongue to the hot, sweet center of her desire, and he teased her, licked her, felt her softly grind her hips against him and tunnel her fingers through his hair.
“Dax… “ His name was a sigh on her lips, her body a silken, tangible force in his arms.
She spread her legs wider, and he slipped his fingers up inside her. She was so soft, so wet, such a gift-electrifying, turning him on, getting him so hot and hard. He plied her with his tongue, loving the taste of her, the little catches in her breath, and the way she was holding him to her, tighter and tighter.
“Dax…”
Come for me, baby. He wanted it so badly, to make her come undone, to make her feel so good. He wanted her to know he was her man, the one she needed, the one who could take her higher.
Her sighs grew rougher, more guttural, and he kept on-on and on and on, endlessly pleasuring her-sliding his fingers in and out of her, teasing her with his tongue, over and over again, until her soft cries became a moan, until she pressed herself against his mouth and held herself there, until he felt the contractions of her release rippling through her.
When she collapsed against the wall, he rose to his feet and shoved his pants to the floor. Taking her mouth with his, he fitted himself to her and pushed up inside. No hesitation. No thoughts. It was mind-bending. She was so hot and slick, taking all of him on his first thrust, to the hilt.
Her mouth was soft and wet, sucking on him, sucking on his tongue, then deepening the kiss. Between them, he felt her undoing the bustier, and he did his best to help. Slowly, the thing opened up, one loosened lace at a time. He ran the tiny black straps off her shoulders, letting them fall to the sides, and then there she was, her breasts so soft and full and filling his hand even as he filled her, again and again, getting lost in her, mindlessly, so easily, following the heated warmth of her skin into a pleasure so deep he never wanted it to end.
All he wanted was to be with her.
To be like this, driving into her, holding her to him. He had his tongue in her mouth, his hand on her breast, and his other hand wrapped under her thigh, lifting her leg around his waist, letting him go deep and deeper. He thrust into her, and she took him every time, all the way, moving her hips with his, until the heat and the rhythm and the seductive softness of her body took him straight over the edge.
He pinned her up against the wall, his body rigid with the pleasure pulsing through him, her soft gasps of breath hot against his mouth. Women. Geezus.
So perfect. Especially her. Hot, and soft, and wet, and silky, turning him on and setting him off.
He pushed into her one last time, keeping himself deep inside, just to feel her as he finished off, just to hear the small sound of pleasure she made. God, he could do her all night long, but she didn’t feel like she had the strength left to get to the bed.
So he held her, and he stayed inside her, just loving the way she felt, his heart still pounding.
She was so dangerous.
God.
“You okay?” he asked after a few more moments had passed, brushing his mouth across her cheek.
“Mmm-hmmm.” She rocked against him, ever so slightly, and his eyes damn near crossed-it felt so good.
He smiled and kissed the side of her neck.
“I wanted to do this the night we met,” he whispered against her skin, “from the minute I walked into the gallery and saw you.”
“Mmmmm.” She was still pulsing around him, soft, latent ripples.
He tightened his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, and he breathed her in, filled himself with the warm and lovely scent of her skin. “You feel so damn good.”
“Oh, Dax,” she murmured, softening against him and running her fingers up through his hair-and he kissed her, moved his mouth to hers and just played with her, sucking on her tongue, gently biting her lips, just trying to get more of her.
She was so responsive, teasing him, giving of herself-he felt it with every move she made.
Carefully, slowly, he pulled out of her, and he kissed her while he did it, softly, on her mouth, on her cheek, on the side of her neck. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
He wanted her naked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Suzi felt satiated with his lovemaking, yet she knew she wanted more.
Sitting on the bed in her birthday suit, bustier on one side of her, Marcella’s skirt on the floor, she watched Dax where he was bent over her shoes, unbuckling every tiny strap.
“I could help you with your shirt,” she said. It was the only piece of clothing he still had on.
“Got it.” With her foot still in his lap, he reached up behind his neck and pulled the shirt off over his head.
He tossed it off to the side and went back to getting her out of the platform heels. The boy was concentrating on the job, his hair all tousled from her fingers, a smudge of lipstick on his cheek, his gaze intent.
God, he was beautiful, dark hair covering his chest, delineating his abs, his legs so strong and muscular, his fingers nimble.
She didn’t want to think about anything else, not about earlier, when she’d been crying in his arms, and not about the loss that would forever haunt her days, not right now. The ache was always with her. It never went completely away.
But with Dax, she had a chance for a small reprieve, and she wanted it, just a little more time with him, time to be held and cared for, and to get lost in his loving. It was crazy, something of the moment, intense and vital, sex and solace and salvation all wrapped up in Dax Killian’s arms.