“That is delicious,” she said.
“You certainly are.” I’d intended for the comment to tease her and when she paused for a beat, I wondered whether she was going to respond. “It certainly is,” I clarified and a flush colored her cheeks.
Dinner continued in an erotic game. It crossed my mind that she might be doing it on purpose, until I realized that Elena had never been that brazen. It had to be my own need to take her in every way possible that was causing me to look for double entendre. With this in mind, I tried to keep the conversation light. At the end of the meal the waitress returned with the dessert menu, but Elena refused; a gesture I silently thanked her for. If the woman thought the lamb was delicious, I’d hate to see what noises she’d make when tasting one of the chef’s crème brulees. I was generally a patient man, but I couldn’t take much more before I cleared the table and took her right here. One such benefit of the evening thus far was that I now no longer had to guess at what she looked like when she was enjoying something. The image of her wide eyes and parted lips returned and my cock throbbed.
Standing, I held out my hand to her. She hesitated a moment before placing her hand in mine. I helped her up and led her to the dance floor.
“I’m not a good dancer,” she whispered softly.
Bending down, I nipped her ear and feeling her jolt, a smile came to my lips. “I am.”
Carefully, I guided her across the dance floor and when I pulled her close to me the scent of lavender invaded my senses. Our bodies touched at every possible place. With her breasts pressed against my chest, the searing heat from her skin seeping through my shirt, my heart began to thunder. She lifted a hand from my waist to rest it gently on my shoulder, looking up at me, making sure it was okay. Fuck, this woman left me in a state of sexual frustration I hadn’t experienced since I was a teenager.
With very little coaxing, Elena fell in step with me and we moved gracefully across the floor. I kept my eyes on the dancers around us, thoughts of sliding the zipper of her dress down, revealing the surprise inside, invading all the space in my brain until the desire to see her face was overwhelming. Dropping my eyes, I noticed her flushed cheeks, the rapid beat of the pulse in her neck, her breath coming in shallow pants as her eyes locked on mine. The fire there threw me, and when she made her move, my footsteps faltered.
Her hand on my shoulder slid up, moving behind my neck, curling into my hair, and when she applied the slightest of pressure, I obeyed, bending down to devour her mouth, the taste of red wine lingering on her lips. Wanting more, I deepened the kiss, blatantly ignoring the fact that we were on a very crowded and very public dance floor.
Her fingers flexed then tightened in my hair, holding my mouth against hers. I could feel her heartbeat next to my chest. A soft whimper escaped her throat. By the time she pulled away my head was ready to explode with lust. Her lower body still pressed to mine, the hard length of my shaft pushing into her abdomen, I felt the slightest twitch of her hips and my eyes immediately found hers.
Eyes so dark they could be chestnut stared back at me, reflecting the same lust I felt coiled deep within my stomach. She swallowed hard and opened her mouth to speak. At first nothing came out and I chanted in my head.
Please, please, please.
Somehow, I fought off the urge to reach down and adjust myself. It felt like I’d waited an eternity for her, not simply a few weeks, and the few moments we stood in silence, waiting to hear what she wanted, felt twice as long.
“Take me home.”
Her words, though arousing, were not the, “Take me home and have sex with me,” I wanted and I wasn’t going to jump to conclusions, at least, not with such a vague statement.
“You don’t want to dance anymore?”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “I want to be your dessert.”
You don’t get any clearer than that.
Without another word, I tugged her from the floor, stopping by our table to toss more than enough money down to cover our bill and tip, and hurried out to the car.
CHAPTER 12
Elena
Desire like I’d never felt before heated my blood the moment his lips touched mine, and only grew when the taste of him sizzled over my tongue. Throughout dinner my need for him had overtaken every part of me; eclipsing any residual fear I might have had until I hadn’t been able to contain myself.
Having been with only one man my entire life, Dominic had pretty much set the bar when it came to sex. Listening to women heatedly discuss their latest conquest and how many times the men made them come made me feel like something might be wrong with me. Not once in my entire life had I enjoyed sex of any kind. To me it was uncomfortable and somewhat degrading. With Dominic, it felt like a duty to be carried out because we were married: no different to unloading the dishwasher, or folding the laundry.
Yet there was something about Ashton that made me disregard my prior experiences, wanting to drive him crazy, no matter whether or not I enjoyed it.
We pulled onto the main road and my nerves started to get the better of me. Hands shaking, my knee bounced up and down at the same speed until Ashton’s hand curled over my knee. I wanted to moan at the skin-on-skin contact. My body started to hum when his fingers slid up the inside of my thigh, his thumb lightly caressing the sensitive skin there. Shivers traveled through me. I wanted him to move farther up my leg. My core throbbed, pulsing with need. The feeling was unfamiliar but definitely not unwelcome. I clenched my thighs, knowing he’d feel the spasm against his hand. I’d never felt like this before. The whole situation made me feel so wanton. Like I didn’t have a care in the world.
Ashton pulled into the drive, jumping out of the car and running around the front to open my door. With a quick jerk, I was yanked from the vehicle and into his arms. His hair was out of place, having been combed through with his fingers, and the button at his neck was undone Seeing this man, usually so put together and controlled, in a state of disarray was rough and sexy and made me want to tear my clothes off. His hands plunged into my hair and pulled me up for a searing kiss. The feel of his mouth on mine had me vibrating with desire.
Without breaking the connection of our lips, he walked me backward until my back hit the hard wood of the front door and he used his hips to pin me there. In that moment, it didn’t matter to me that we were on the front porch. My hands fisted in the front of his shirt and a low growl tore up his throat. Ashton pulled back slightly and then dipped. His shoulder hit me at my waist and then my feet were no longer on the ground, and my hands clutched at his shoulders as he moved with great speed through the foyer.
Ashton took the stairs faster than I’d ever seen. Within seconds we were in a bedroom. I wished I could take in everything about my surroundings but as my body slowly trailed down his, the feel of his hard length against my stomach, I realized what we were about to do and my mind seized. I didn’t want to stop but I couldn’t help all of my insecurities coming back to haunt me in waves.
For a moment I thought about asking him what to do, but that seemed ridiculous. Instead, I took a deep breath and willed myself to relax, letting him take the lead. This was his dance and I planned to follow.
He stepped back, running the tips of his fingers over the top of my exposed breasts. “Do you know how fucking sexy this dress is on you, or how much I want to tear you out of it?” His voice was husky and I felt the sound all over my body.
Everywhere.
“No.”
“Then I’ll show you.” He took his hand away and dug in his pocket. “One, are you on birth control?”
Oh shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. Guess it was a good thing I continued taking the pills after I stopped staying with Dominic.
“Yes. Dominic didn’t want kids.”