Melting Ms Frost (32 page)

He cupped her in his palm for a moment, then ran his hand lower, his soap-slippery skin gliding effortlessly over waist and hip and belly. He deepened his kiss as his hand delved between her legs, fingertips only tracing her cleft. She was so sensitive with need down there that she whimpered into his mouth.

Taking her bottom lip between his teeth Aidan pulled it with him for a moment as he drew back to look at her.

‘How long do you think you can wait?’ he asked, eyes on hers as he added just enough pressure to slip his fingers deeper, to run a light caress back and forth through her hidden folds.

She didn’t bother answering his question. He was smart enough to see the state she was in, to know just how devastating she found his taunting gentleness.

Her only concern was encouraging him to get a move on. Sliding her hands down over his chest she scored her nails lightly over the rises and ridges of his pectorals and abs, heading for his groin. ‘Would you like some help?’

‘No. I’d like you to put your hands on the tiles beside you.’ There was no give in his tone or his look. ‘You wanted to watch, so watch.’

Disobeying now would only lead to more delays, and that she couldn’t face. So she did as he asked. Drinking in the sight of him touching himself as all the while he continued to touch her too, his fingers between her legs driving her mad.

He held nothing of himself back, letting her see his excitement grow. And she’d never seen anything so erotic as when his control started to fracture, had never heard anything as sexy as when he said, ‘I’m going to come for you, Annabel,’ before rocking back on his heels to gasp in a breath. The movement put him under the spray of water, which cascaded down over his shoulders, and ran down his tightly tensed torso in rivulets. She couldn’t resist, leaning forward she licked at one such rivulet. It was enough to push him over. With a ragged grunt he froze in place. Annabel pulled back in time to see a creamy ribbon of release pulse out of him, then in the next instant he unclasped himself, his hand reaching around the back of her thigh to lift her leg to his hip as he ground his pelvis against her, crushing her back against the wall. The position opened her enough that his previously teasing fingers slipped right inside at the same instant she felt a second release erupt from him in a splash of liquid heat against her stomach. His mouth came down hard on hers to swallow her desperate sounds of pleasure. He crowded even closer against her, his erection trapped between them, big and solid and no damned use to anyone at all where it was. Annabel insinuated a hand between their bodies, wrapped her fist around him, the soapy residue letting her glide up and down his length with ease. Aidan’s hips gave a little jolt as he groaned into her mouth, pulsing in her hand he continued to come squeezed between their bodies.

He shifted, grabbed her other thigh and hauled it up so that she wrapped both legs around his hips. His hands came under her buttocks to support her. His hips began thrusting, driving into the grip she kept on him. Spread so wide, pressed so tight against him, she felt the delicious friction, the pressure of every movement they made. Pushing back against him, she was sure she could ride herself to completion with just a few thrusts.

She tore her mouth away from his. His wet hair smoothed into ribbons clung to his neck, exposing the end of his scar. She pressed her lips gently against it, moved further down to the tendons in his shoulder and bit into them, her groan hitching against his hot, wet flesh as his soapy fingers dipped into the valley of her buttocks and swept shockingly over every part of her.

‘Oh, God,’ she gasped, rearing back when he repeated the caress, her head resting against the tiles. He was watching her intently as he passed over that sensitive spot a third time, his touch slower, more deliberate. The sensation, so new and exciting, made her eyes lose focus, her eyelids flickering closed as the pleasure mounted and she strained for the summit. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘No,’ he ordered gruffly. ‘Not yet. Not until I’m inside you.’

‘Then hurry.’ He was still hard where she gripped him. She tried to guide him to where she wanted him, felt him jerk when she pushed him against her entrance.

‘Wait. Condom.’ Pulling her away from the wall, he ducked their clasped bodies under the spray for a rinse. ‘Turn off the water.’ He barely waited for her to do so before taking a firmer grip and carrying her out of the bathroom and all the way back to his bed.

Sopping wet as they were, Aidan crawled right onto the mattress and deposited her on her back before rearing back onto his knees. Grasping her inner thighs he spread her legs, wide. The gaze he raked over her most private parts left her struggling, trying to close against the acute rush of self-consciousness, but his grip tightened, holding her just where he wanted her.

‘Don’t. I want to look at you, Annabel. I want to taste you again.’ She shivered, not sure whether from the intensity of those silvery eyes or from the air against her wet skin. Still holding her wide, he lowered himself between her legs. Turning his head, he trailed open-mouthed kisses up the inside of one thigh, his wet hair dripping and his morning stubble scratching deliciously against the soft skin until he reached the crease between leg and groin. There he licked instead – a slow, light, brush of his tongue that made her shudder and rotate her hips, looking for more. Ignoring the movement, he turned and took his time to repeat the process on her other thigh until she pleaded, ‘Aidan.’

She grabbed handfuls of the sheet when she felt his thumbs slide in to part her, closed her eyes as she felt nothing but his breath for an endless moment, heard him rasp the word, ‘Beautiful,’ and then his mouth was there at last, hot and wet and hungry. She rocketed skyward where she floated on a cloud of bliss, aware of nothing but the intense pleasure Aidan generated using his tongue and teeth and lips, not to mention that prickly stubble, to bring her to such devastating heights, only to ease her back down again without release. Again and again, until she was a moaning, groaning, writhing wreck of need.

Aidan eventually raised his head to interrupt her stream of babbling. ‘Are you asking for more, Annabel?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded raw as she answered him fervently. ‘Yes.’

She nearly cried out when he pulled away from her, but as she lay there spread, her body pulsing with need, she realised he was going for a condom at last. It was impossible not to ogle him as he moved about naked and graceful and assured in the tightly defined contours of his own skin. When he bent his head to the task at hand, her gaze strayed to the mirror on the wall behind him, the surface smudged with hand prints – lots of her smaller ones and only one large. Recalling how he’d looked when he’d lost himself for her last night, her hand crept down to touch the place where she throbbed most as she closed her eyes. Just the lightest touch had her arching, ready …

Then she felt the bed dip. Opened her eyes to see him move over her again.

‘You look captivating touching yourself,’ he murmured, his warm palm covering the hand she had between her legs. ‘One day soon I’ll get you to make yourself come like that for me while I watch you. But not today.’

He captured her other hand and moved both, pinning her wrists to the mattress either side of her head as he settled his weight onto her. His mouth came down, took hers in a kiss that tasted intimately of her. His tongue delved deep as further down his hips started to rock his readiness against her spread sex. He rubbed back and forth, grinding the solid length against her, teasing her entrance with the broad tip, but never breaching it. Never giving her what she craved. She broke the kiss for need of air, her moans growing more vocal the more her frustration rose.

‘So sweet, and so loud. No doubt the other hotel guests are getting to enjoy this as much as we are.’

He thought torturing her was funny? ‘Aidan!’

‘Annabel?’

‘
Please
.’

‘Please, what?’

‘God,’ she shouted, infuriated. ‘You
know
what!’

‘No. I’m not a mind reader,’ he said calmly but with a flex of his hips that suggested the statement was a lie and that he did, indeed, wield impressive psychic powers and know exactly what she wanted. ‘You need to learn how to tell me what you want from me.’

She half sobbed with frustration and anger and need. She lifted her head to glare her intent right into his eye as she threatened, ‘Fuck me now or die.’

He laughed. ‘Well, seeing as you asked so nicely.’ And with a small adjustment he surged inside.

Aidan clenched his jaw as he entered Annabel in a smooth, seemingly endless glide that had her sucking in a lungful of air. She was so wet for him, the position allowing much greater access than he’d had last night, that her tight heat welcomed him all the way home. She obviously noticed the difference too, her spine arching off the mattress at the invasion, offering her lovely breasts up in an invitation he couldn’t refuse. Ducking his head, he sucked one pink nipple into his mouth as he held her pinned beneath him and slid the last inch home, filling her up.

‘God, you’re perfect,’ he said, trailing kisses back up to her neck as he started to move, keeping it slow and steady and controlled. ‘How does it feel?’

‘Good,’ Annabel croaked. ‘So good.’

As he pushed all the way into her again, he had to agree. Being buried to the balls in Annabel Frost felt like heaven on earth. ‘You’ve got all of me,
a mhuirnín
,’ he said, feeling the solid pressure of her pelvic bone tight against his own. ‘I couldn’t get any deeper into you if I tried.’ He rotated his hips instead, drawing out long groans from both of them.

With the edge of his own need already blunted, he could take the time that her forthright antics had stolen from him last night. The slower he kept things, the easier it would be for him to read her reactions, learn what she liked. And it wasn’t long before she was giving him all sorts of clues – most notably the impatient twist and pull of her wrists in his hold. He couldn’t blame her. After the teasing build-up of sexual tension he’d subjected her to he could only imagine how agonising the slow pace must be. He was ready to give her anything she needed, but he wanted to hear her beg for it first. The independent Ms Frost liked taking what she wanted. Time she learnt how to ask for it.

With the next slide home she bucked beneath him, gave a ragged little cry. Lowering his head, he followed the taut line of the tendon up the side of her neck with his tongue.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered when he reached her ear.

‘Faster. God, go faster.’

He increased his rhythm a little, enough to draw another cry from her, but judging by the way she continued to writhe in his hold, not enough to bring her the satisfaction she sought. For every push of his hips, she thrust back against him, quicker, harder, the noises she made full of frustration.

‘Ask me for what you want, Annabel.’

‘More. Faster!’

She looked surprised when he suddenly flipped their positions, laying himself out flat on his back with her straddling him.

‘Show me how fast.’

She stalled for only as long as it took her to get over the shock of being handed control, and then she didn’t hesitate at all. Placing her hands on his chest, she rode him, her pace growing faster, her need increasing. His own hands filled with her breasts, he watched her move above him, watched her fight for a release that hovered on the periphery but that she couldn’t seem to reach.

Running one hand down her stomach, he pushed his thumb between her legs, searching out the place she needed him.

‘God, yes,’ she gasped a moment later. And then everything was shifting, lifting, tightening around him. He knew she was close, mere moments away. When she closed her eyes and flung her head back he was ready.

‘No,’ he growled, transferring his hand from her breast to the back of her neck, forcing her head forward again. ‘Open your eyes. Look at me.’

Her eyelids flew open again, her green irises bright with desire as she focused on him. He exerted more force on her neck, bringing her down closer, until her torso was angled over him and she had to push her hands into the mattress to support herself.

‘You keep your eyes on mine as the pleasure takes you,’ he said, increasing the pressure of his thumb as he dug his heels into the mattress to punctuate his thrusts. ‘I want to see you come.’

And he did see it, right then. He saw the rosy flush wash over her skin, saw her eyes widen and her mouth open on a silent moan. More than that, as he held their gazes locked, he saw what he’d been hoping to see – the masking layers of protection, of years of social conditioning dropping away to reveal a glimpse of her true self. And in that unguarded moment what he saw of her was delicate, passionate, so beautiful it made his chest hurt.

‘Annabel,’ he breathed, and her whole body clenched before it began to shudder. He picked up the pace, driving himself deep as her internal muscles started to flutter around him, massaging his own release from where he held it boiling inside him. As Annabel reached the peak of her ascent and hovered just before the freefall back down, he pulled her mouth down onto his and let himself go with a shout.

Ten minutes later he was pleased he’d ordered everything sweet and sugary he could find on the breakfast menu as he watched her devour two enormous almond croissants. If things continued like this between them they were both going to need all the energy they could get.

Aidan’s reaction when she appeared from her room that evening dressed for the ball went a long way to reassuring Annabel about the green gown. She’d spent ages in front of the full-length mirrors, checking out her reflection, worried that the draped and ruched asymmetric layering of the shot silk skirts was too much. She’d left her hair down, pinned to one side with a crystal-studded clip to let the long loose curls cascade over her shoulder. A matching crystal choker sparkled around her neck, leaving her décolleté bare above the pleated neckline of the boned bodice.

Turning from where he’d been looking out through a window over the night-time city lights twinkling beyond, he tracked her entrance into the room. Rustling her way to the dining table where their coats were slung over the back of a chair, she placed her clutch on the polished surface and, hands smoothing over the voluminous skirts, she turned to face him. He remained silent for a moment as his gaze swept over her.