IntheMood (12 page)
Authors: Lynne Connolly
He winked. “As if I needed any more persuasion.”
This time they didn’t break their kiss.
He lifted her and took her to the bed, their mouths sealed
in a passionate affirmation of their love.
Would she ever get enough of him?
She doubted it. Every time he looked at her with sultry
promise in his eyes, displaying his blatant desire for her, she melted. Wanted
him, more than she could bear. Her pussy tingled for him, and damn him, he knew
it. He could play her. Her only consolation was that she could do the same to
him.
V wasn’t used to playing with a partner. It hadn’t really
been a part of her life since high school, when her first lover had been a
funny guy rather than a jock, and he’d laughed her into bed. It had been a long
time since she thought of him, but sometimes Matt reminded her of that man,
whose name she had to work to remember. Buddy. He’d left to go to university
and never returned, but he’d written her for a time.
Her past and her future. But now she wanted only one man and
one kind of loving. His.
She smiled up at him as he carried her to the bed. She saw
nothing but love and trust in his warm gaze and she gave hers back to him. She
wouldn’t think of anything except this now, or she’d try to, although the
choices she had to make reverberated around her head, making her dizzy. It had
been a long day, but she was about to end it the best possible way. The only
better way would be at his apartment. She loved the place now he’d let her help
him unpack. It was a home.
He lowered her gently to the bed and kissed her before he
stood and started to undress. She did the same, sitting up to rid herself of
her top, her bra, her jeans, shoes, panties and socks. All gone. Naked seemed
the right way to be. Naked and unashamed. He stripped completely, letting his
clothes fall where they would, and then gave her an easy, loving smile, but his
eyes revealed barely banked fire. The fire that they stoked together.
He came down to lie beside her and took her hand, holding it
between them before he leaned forward and kissed her, but he didn’t linger over
the kiss. He stroked her fingers. “We’ve made love in a lot of adventurous
ways,” he said, “but this time I just want to love you.”
“That sounds good.”
Like lovers exploring each other for the first time, they
caressed each other’s bodies, taking their time, punctuating their explorations
with soft kisses. He kissed around her nipple, laughed when it tightened and
contracted, then dropped a kiss on the hard bead at the tip before moving to
the other. She cradled him in her arms, smoothing her hands over his shoulders,
curving her palms to feel the tightening of his muscles.
No rush, just a slow, gentle arousal of each other’s bodies
to the inevitable conclusion. It felt so good. Neither had anything to prove,
they could just enjoy. V had never, ever had an experience like that. She knew
he loved her. He knew she loved him. It made for a tranquility she couldn’t
explain, a surety that she could experiment, or choose to do this thorough but
gentle exploration. He’d allow her to do whatever she wanted because he loved
her and she would do the same.
That was why they needed equality in their relationship, she
realized. To make the lovemaking, the heart of their relationship as sublime as
ever. And she knew what he meant. She must do what she wanted for herself,
because by being herself she gave him everything. No holds barred, nothing held
back.
He could be sure she’d never regret anything she did with
him. But she didn’t know if she still wanted to travel with the band, take the
chance of becoming a full member. It would mean she’d spend maybe one year in
three mainly away from home. More, if they wanted to do more live appearances.
It would mean flexibility, while Matt would be in Chicago, making a success of
his recording business.
But she knew, if she asked him, he’d give it up for her.
Fuck, what a responsibility! It was one she didn’t want. He had to make a
success of what he did, or she’d break her heart. She’d never ask.
He’d reached her navel by now, kissing around the little
indentation before dipping his tongue inside and arousing the incredibly
sensitive spots there. Before she’d met Matt, she hadn’t realized the erotic
possibilities of the navel. Now she sighed and moved a little, making him
murmur to her before he went to the hollows below her hips, kissing and moving
on. She knew where he was headed, and she wanted him there, the urgency rising
steadily, inevitably. She parted her legs, eager for him to reach it.
He lifted his head and gazed at her. She stared back, lost
in the moment. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look like this, do
you?” A sudden grin flashed across his lips. “The first time I saw you I
wondered what it would feel like to wrap all that hair around my hands and get
thoroughly tangled up in you. Now I know and I can’t wait to do it again.”
“I want to love you too.” She wanted to feel his power under
her hands, reduce him to a quivering mass of need, as she knew she could do.
“This time is mine. Next time I’ll give myself up to you.”
The promise made her shudder, thinking of what she’d do and how she’d do it.
He returned to kissing her, and this time reached the
promised land. He took one gentle taste, kissing her clit so gently she could
hardly feel it. It made her lift her pelvis and push her body toward him, every
nerve a screaming point of sheer need.
He touched her, kissed her, lining kisses down one side of
her labia and then up the other. His caresses became slowly, carefully more
intense, firmer, until he had her clit in his mouth and two fingers deep inside
her pussy.
One hard suck and she was there, screaming his name. The
anticipation had been so exquisite, so drawn-out that she was ready for him,
primed to go off in a way she’d never felt before. This was what long-time
loving meant. Exploration, and a more patient approach, so they could lengthen
the anticipation. If she could have thought at all, she’d have determined to
try it with him, but her wits had scattered.
He worked her, pushed his fingers in deep, added another and
then fluted them. She felt her pussy respond, the quivers of aftershock growing
until the cycle started again, tingles of anticipation replacing fulfillment.
Again. Now.
When he released her and lifted so he could come up the bed
and join her, she welcomed him with arms wide. She held him tight so her
breasts crushed against the powerful muscles of his chest. V arched her body to
receive him and he slid home, didn’t stop until he was in deep.
Then he opened his eyes and they gazed at each other again.
Tiny lines of happiness marked the corners of his eyes and his mouth, until he
kissed her and shared her taste. On him, it turned her on so powerfully she
nearly lost her mind.
They worked together toward a mutual release. She fought her
orgasm, controlled it, because the next time she came, she wanted it to be with
him.
He set up a steady pace and worked her, pushing and
withdrawing in the best rhythm she’d ever experienced. She worked with him, her
body adding harmony and new notes to his, so that together they created
something different and fresh.
He murmured to her, words that sounded like lyrics. He’d
said he didn’t make a great songwriter, but they sounded like the greatest song
ever written. Even more so because they were just with her. She wouldn’t share
them with anyone else. Ever. But she told him she loved him, and that seemed to
satisfy him. Not as lyrical as something she could have created on her sax, but
sweeter, because those were words she’d only use with him.
They had found each other, and working together, they found
new heights. Until, with her legs curled around his waist, her body wholly open
to him, they came in a scattering of sparks, a completeness that felt right and
new.
V woke a few hours later. The light had gone, the dimness of
a city night illuminating where they lay in shadows and highlights. Unable to
resist, she traced a finger over his chest, his six-pack visible even while he
was relaxed in sleep. She kissed his nipples, flicked out her tongue to taste
him, deciding to wake him in the most delicious way she could think of.
But he forestalled her. He stroked her shoulders, then
slipped his hands around her rib cage and drew her up to face him. “In a little
while, love,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep. “There’s something
else I want to do first.” He took a deep breath and she saw tension in his
face, the tiny muscles at the sides of his mouth tightening a tad.
He leaned away from her and pressed the button to put on the
bedside lights, twisting the dimmer to lower them to a sexy glow, then came
back to her. “V, Violet, I love you. I can’t imagine ever loving anyone else.
And while I want to see your success, there’s just one thing I want more.”
Was he about to ask her for what he’d given her? The freedom
to find herself? Because if he asked, she’d give it up. He must know it, and
that was his ultimate power over her, that she’d give him anything he asked.
She wouldn’t have done it for anyone else, not her parents or her uncle or
anyone, but she would for him.
He opened his hand and showed her what he’d picked up when
he reached for the lights. “Will you wear this for me? I know it’s a bit
primitive, but I want to mark you, let people know you’re taken. I’m kind of
ashamed of the way I feel, like I have to brand you as mine, but I can’t help it.
I want to know that you’re wearing this for me.”
Dazed, she stared at him. “For real?” Then she thought,
What
a stupid thing to say
, but she’d said it now and she couldn’t take it back.
“For real. I’m not pressuring you, but I’d like to think
that one day we’d get married.”
“You mean you don’t want to get married right away?”
He grimaced. “I’d do it tomorrow if you said yes. I don’t
want to tie you down. You’re not ready yet, you need to spread your wings a
little, find out a bit more about what you can do. But I’d like you to wear
this.”
She wanted to mark him too, but there weren’t engagement
rings for men, and if there were, she didn’t think he’d wear one because he
didn’t wear much jewelry. “I say let’s do it now. Tomorrow. As soon as we can.”
His eyes blazed with emotion and hers dampened, but she
blinked the tears away. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. “Maybe not tomorrow. I don’t
want to cheat your mother out of seeing one of her family happy. But I want the
commitment.”
“Yes. Please, Matt.”
He slid the glittering emerald ring onto the third finger of
her left hand. She knew that was where he’d always meant it to sit because it
fit perfectly. “I’m yours, Matt.” She held her hand up, palm outermost, and he
lifted his own, larger hand to place against it like a prayer, or the taking of
an oath.
“I’m yours too, love. Always.”
About the Author
Lynne Connolly writes for a number of publishers. She writes
paranormal romance, contemporary romance and historical romance, and is the
winner of two Eppies (now retitled the EPIC e-Book Awards) and a goodly number
of Recommended Reads, etc., from review sites.
While these are very gratifying, that isn’t why she writes.
She wants to bring the stories in her head to life and share them with others,
in the hope she might then get some peace.
She lives in the UK with her family, cat, and doll houses.
Creating worlds on paper in miniature seems to be her specialty!
Lynne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Also by
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
In the Mood
ISBN 9781419939761
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
In the Mood Copyright © 2012 Lynne Connolly
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover design by Irene Adler
Photos: VGStudio, Ozaiachin and Kundra/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication July 2012
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