He expected her to immediately remove the clips stimulating her nipples, or at least pull the chain from her mouth. Instead she opened her eyes and looked into his, an uncharacteristic vulnerability chafing against the edge of anger and pain he’d seen for so long.
Ice was thinnest close to shore, to safety. He could continue the game, or he could surrender to her.
No contest.
After a long moment he bent his head and kissed her. The chain, still in her mouth, rolled between his tongue and hers before he captured it in his teeth and drew it down to lie against her collarbone. Removing each clamp made her quiver as blood flowed back into the sensitive tips. He licked one nipple, then the other, reminding her body it could do more, take more, until her hands gripped his hair and pulled his mouth up to hers.
Exultant, he kissed her until she was breathless then pushed away to shuck his jeans. The fire had died down to glowing embers waiting to be fanned back to life. Positioning himself over her, he knelt between her spread thighs, braced his feet against the sloped back of the chaise and tucked his elbows above her shoulders. Her feet rested on the floor on their side of the chaise until he aligned his cock with her soft entrance.
Chapter Six
When Shane pushed inside, his thick cock stretched walls sensitized by infrequent sex, an hour of sensual torture, and an orgasm that only made her want more. Natalie drew tight around him, heels digging into the backs of his thighs and her arms slipped under his to grip his heavy shoulders. The low, flickering firelight sporadically illuminated his stark features. Lightning bursts of pleasure detonated along her nerves as he gave several experimental thrusts, using his braced feet for leverage. The chaise was short and narrow; pleasure and the precarious position tightened her vine-like grip on his body. Without his elbows at her shoulders she’d be driven to the carpet by his thrusts.
He moved, slow and sure, pulling out until the tip of his cock nestled in her folds, then driving inside, power building with every stroke. “I haven’t forgotten who you are, Nat,” he murmured in her ear. “Or what turns you on.”
His words seared her soul. She closed her eyes because it was true. He’d taught her to need him, mind, body, and soul, and then he’d all but disappeared from her life. Maybe he’d just missed their games. Maybe his hackles lifted because she was having drinks with another man when he wanted to go home early. Maybe he wanted to forget about a really shitty day at work. No matter. This kind of attention didn’t apply outside the bedroom.
The knowledge broke her heart a little more, rendering her defenses meaningless. “I love you, Shane,” she whispered. “How doesn’t matter. It’s always been you.”
He paused, buried deep inside her, his gaze searching hers in the flickering firelight, and for a moment she thought he’d stop entirely. But his eyes were the translucent blue of a winter sky as he said, “I’m listening.”
He was, she realized, as he pulled out, then used the full weight of his body and all the power in his hips and legs to drive back into her. A wave of white-hot sensation swept through her, and she arched and cried out. Shane heard her and didn’t hold back, didn’t go easy on her. Before long she sobbed and trembled under him, her awareness narrowed to what he made her feel. Longing, physical and emotional. Protected and taken, all at once.
Loved.
Each stroke glided over super-stimulated nerve endings inside and out, and the undeniable helplessness of his hips holding her open, his chest pressing her into the chaise, his shoulders and face and tousled hair gilded Viking gold in the firelight, wound her tighter and tighter until she clung to him, poised on the edge of shattering. His plunging thrusts drove her hips into the cushion and her shoulders into his elbows. Soft grunts huffed from his chest. She’d wrapped herself around him as the coil tightened inside her, so he didn’t have to bend his head far to whisper, “I love you, too,” in her ear.
The words flung her into oblivion. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, forcing breathless cries into the waning firelight. He followed her over the edge almost immediately, his grip punishing and possessive as he jetted into her. Slowly the tension eased from his body until she bore most of his weight. As she relaxed she let her hand glide from his nape to his shoulder, then down his torso to his waist. As caresses went, it wasn’t much, but she gave it freely.
He lifted himself back, then off her, and walked into the bathroom. Blood rushed to her head as she sat up. By the time she got to her feet he was back in the bedroom, stepping into his boxer briefs.
“We need to talk, Nat,” he said as he plucked the fragments of the jar from the floor.