I dove back into my bag, grabbed the condoms, and set them next to the feather. Then I arranged the pillows from the headboard to the side and tore the comforter from the bed. I checked the candles around the room. All flickered. Satisfied, I hurried back into the bathroom, snatched a towel from the rack, then stretched out my arms. “Your chariot awaits,” I said.
She rose, carefully easing out of the tub. I followed every droplet of water as it slid down her body. More blood rushed to one place. I stifled a groan as I bundled her up, then I hoisted her in my arms. As I carried her, she sucked on my ear. In that second, my knees nearly buckled. Fortunately, my legs brushed the side of the bed.
I let her down as gently as my shaky arms allowed. “Head on the pillows.”
“Demanding still, I see.” She moved up, the towel falling and exposing her naked body.
My gaze was riveted to her. My pulse sped up. My mouth was bone dry. Pure, raw hunger gripped me. The fire coursed through me like a slow burn, and at any moment the door would burst open, the backdraft sending me over the fucking edge.
“Are you going to stand there gawking?” she asked.
All night if I couldn’t get my legs to move. My gaze wandered lazily upward from her navel to her breasts. Her nipples were calling to me. I blew out a breath, but the knots in my stomach didn’t loosen. I was never this nervous when it came to women and sex. Hey, moron. You’re not having sex. You’re making love to the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. The woman who always had the superpowers to unlock those feelings you stowed away forever.
She cupped one of her breasts and squeezed. My body jolted. Oh, hell no. As much as her touching herself was a turn-on, those babies were for me. I moistened my lips, yanked the towel from her, and flung it behind me.
She blushed seductively, her body outstretched, her hair messy around her. The half-heart charm fell between her breasts. A surge of warmth spread through me. That piece of jewelry was a testament to the love she had for me.
I reached for the feather then crawled up on the bed beside her, propping up on my elbow. “Hands over your head.”
Concern glimmered in her eyes. “You know I’m ticklish,” she said in a breathy tone.
I ran the feather lightly over her face. “I know.” The feather wasn’t meant to tickle her. “Trust me?” Her entire body was all mine, every satiny inch of it was mine to do with as I pleased. My dick jerked at that thought. I’d lain awake the past several nights, imagining the feather dipping in between her legs but never touching the spot she would eventually beg me to touch. I wanted to see her wiggle, see her facial expressions, and hear her moan. I wanted to feel every emotion with her as I tortured myself in the process. Because in the end, the high would be like no other fucking high in this world.
I started my assault on the tops of her feet, slowly dragging the feather up one leg, all the while watching her. She sucked in her bottom lip, her chest rising, her nipples hard. As I approached the apex of her legs, her eyes fluttered closed. I switched to the other leg, doing the same thing, then ran the feather over her shifting abdominal muscles, between her breasts, along her neck, her arms, and her legs. When I was anywhere near the tops of her thighs, she raised her butt off the bed, trying to guide me toward her core. Beads of sweat broke out on my body. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stick to my plan.
“Kel, I love the sensation, but I need to feel you all over me,” she whined.
I groaned. The need to be inside her bellowed through me like fucking wildfire. “Foreplay,” I said in a strained voice.
“Don’t you think the last hour or so has been enough foreplay?” She captured one of her nails in her mouth.
Fuck. The first second after I’d opened the hotel door had been enough. “You’re not ready to scream my name.” I leaned over and captured her lips with mine, pushed my tongue through, and took, tasted, and got lost in her, in us, in our past. Seven fucking years of dreams of her, of pain that wouldn’t go away, of memories, of wondering every day where she was and if she was okay. Now the only pain I had was a throbbing erection. But her needs came first.
She curled into me, moaning as she returned the kiss. When our tongues met in a heated frenzy, sparks shot off inside me like a cannon. I growled and abandoned the feather. I needed to taste more of her, all of her. I adjusted us so I was poised with my legs between hers, my hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her head. We continued to kiss as she gripped my butt, trying to tug me down.
I broke away, both of us breathing heavily. Her hands were all over me, and yet nowhere. She opened her legs, and my dick brushed the inside of her thigh. She rocked her hips upward, wiggled, did everything she could to fuse us together.
Control, control, I chanted in my head. What control? We both wanted each other badly. I grasped one wrist then lifted her arm over her head. “Leave that one there,” I said in a hoarse voice. “I promise I won’t tickle you.”