Mr. Insatiable (21 page)

When they were both naked, she led him to the bed and pushed him onto it, and continued to cover him with kisses, loving the way he sighed and stretched out, reveling in her ministrations. His hands wandered over her body as she loved him, his fingers stroking her skin, arousing her gently, and by the time she made her way back up to his mouth, she was ready to take him inside.

She straddled him and moved her hips until she felt the tip of him part her soft flesh, and Kit closed his eyes, his arms above his head, sighing as she slid down him, encasing him. It was the first time he’d been so passive–usually it was he who drove the pace of their lovemaking, moving her into different positions, determining the speed of her desire–but this time he waited, content to let her take the reins.

She moved on top of him, watching his expressions as she rocked her hips and he slid in and out of her. He brought his hands down to cup her breasts and play with her nipples, and she let him for a while, but then took his hands and moved them back above his head, pretending she was strong enough to hold him in place. He let her, the smile turning to a groan as she pushed down hard with her hips and welcomed him deep inside her.

“That’s it,” she whispered, bending to kiss him. “Come on, love, you’re going to come for me.”

“You first.” He always made sure she achieved her orgasm before he let himself lose control.

“No.” She grazed her teeth on his lower lip. “I want to watch you–I want to know you were thinking of me.”

Something fluttered in his eyes, puzzlement and maybe even hurt that she’d think anything else, but she needed to know, to remind herself that here, in this room, it was just the two of them, and whatever happened when they returned, for that one moment she had him, whole and complete.

She kissed him. “Can you do that for me?”

“I think I’ll probably be able to manage it.”

She laughed and plunged her tongue into his mouth, her breasts scraping across his chest as she continued to move. He opened his hands so their fingers linked, holding her tightly as she taunted him with short, shallow thrusts. She followed by a deep one and he gasped. Her own climax was approaching, but for the first time she held it in, a small part of her acknowledging the fact that she was now able to control it to the extent that she could make herself wait if she wanted.

She increased the pace of her thrusts, her skin sliding across his as they grew hot and slippery in the warm room. The hair on his chest teased her nipples and she bit her lip as she tried to keep the orgasm from overtaking her. Luckily Kit was first to the finish line, and she watched the approach of his climax, studying him as pleasure engulfed him. His body tightened, a frown flickering across his brow. His fingers clenched hers and he groaned, pushing his hips up and burying himself deeply inside her, shuddering as his body spilled into her.

Only as his eyelids flickered and his blue eyes focused on her once more did she give herself over to the sensations she’d been holding back, feeling everything tighten around him, crying out with the intensity of it before collapsing onto his chest, exhausted and sated.

* * * *

Kit slipped a hand into her hair, letting the silky red strands curl around his fingers. “Better now?”

She sighed. “Mm...”

“What was that about?”

She pushed herself up. “What do you mean?”

He studied her. It had been clear that she wanted to take charge and he’d let her happily, content to give up control for once and let her drive the pace, but he’d sensed the desperation underlying her touch, almost as if she were trying to commit his body to memory. She was still planning to end it, he realized, once they returned to Auckland. She thought tonight was their last night.

He looked into her green eyes, but couldn’t bring himself to talk to her about it yet. He didn’t want to argue with her and spoil the evening. They had a whole night before they had to catch their flight, and he wanted to make the most of it. There would be plenty of time to convince her once they got back to New Zealand.

Putting his arms tight around her, he flipped her over, still inside her. Enya gasped and he grinned, moving his hips. “I hope you’re not expecting to get much sleep tonight.”

She gave him an exasperated look tinged with pleasure. “Aren’t you ever sated?”

“I could never have enough of you, Enya O’Donnell.”

“Smoothie. Bet you say that to all the girls.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he loved her, but the words melted away at the uncertainty in her eyes. He’d told her the other night, and she’d repeated it back to him, but he still wasn’t sure if she’d meant it fondly rather than passionately. It wasn’t time for that discussion.

He kissed her. “Only the pretty ones.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and he kissed it, and she giggled. Withdrawing from her, he pulled her into his arms. “Half an hour,” he promised. “If you want any sleep, you’re going to have to take it in pieces.”

“Sounds good to me.” She snuggled up to him and to his surprise her breathing soon grew regular, and her body softened against him. She’d worn herself out. He smiled and kissed her hair, inhaling the smell of roses. He wasn’t going to worry about anything while he had her in his arms.

Still, sleep eluded him as the thought of losing her danced around his head.

* * * *

True to his words, Kit kept her up most of the night, only letting her settle into deep sleep as the sky grew light through the curtains. Their plane flight wasn’t until one o’clock the following afternoon. When they finally awoke they still had several hours in the morning before they had to vacate their hotel room. They didn’t waste a minute, continuing to find pleasure in each other’s arms until eventually they couldn’t put it off any longer and it was time to go.

Kit returned to his room to pack, kissing her at the door, his eyes troubled as she flashed him a quick smile before the door closed on him. She turned back to the room, biting her lips as she saw the rumpled sheets, remembering the various ways they’d made love. How he’d pushed her up against the window, brushing aside the curtains in spite of her protestations that someone below in the streets could see them. The way he’d taken her on all fours, rough and hard, shocking her with a series of smacks to her rump until she tightened around him. How he’d covered every inch of her with kisses, making her come with just his tongue. Kit Fawkes, tender, passionate, affectionate, lusty, every inch a man. She adored him.

But it was over.

She wasn’t going to cry–not now. There would be plenty of time for that once she got home, in the privacy of her bedroom. Then and only then would she look back on these few days and mourn the love she’d lost.

She packed quickly and dressed–they’d showered together previously and she was clean in spite of the fact that he hadn’t been able to resist taking her under the lukewarm spray–and waited outside the room, suitcase in hand and bag over her shoulder. Her body ached and she felt positively radioactive down below, but it had been worth it.

Kit came out of his room carrying his bag, looking gorgeous in one of the new, tight All Blacks rugby shirts that clung to his muscular arms and wide chest.

“Hey.” He smiled at her. “All ready?”

“All ready.” She swallowed down the swell of panic that threatened to wash over her. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

* * * *

The further they got from the hotel, the more Enya withdrew from him. At the airport, she leaned her head on his shoulder as they waited in the departure lounge, and again on the plane on the way to Hong Kong, dozing lightly after she complained to him that she hadn’t had much sleep the night before, making him chuckle. But once they’d boarded the plane to Auckland, she curled up in her own seat away from him and leaned against the window. And although she didn’t pull away when he held her hand at one point, when the flight attendant came around with drinks she accepted one, and he noticed that she didn’t search out his hand when the attendant left.

He started to feel panicky that she was determined to finish things between them. Could she really bring herself not to sleep with him again? What would that mean for their friendship? Fuck their friendship, what would it mean for them as a couple? He didn’t want to be friends with her. He wanted her as a lover, he wanted to marry her, have children with her.

To be with her forever.

Granted, he hadn’t told her that yet, so maybe she was worried that
he
wanted to end it in Auckland. But once again, he didn’t want to talk to her about it on the plane. He’d wait until they’d landed, until she realized their lives were back to normal–and he still wanted her.

His father was waiting for them at the airport, and John hugged them both, asking them about their journey and what sights they’d seen while he helped them with their luggage. Enya said little, smiling when she was spoken to but otherwise remaining quiet, and it was left to Kit to make conversation and keep his voice light, trying to stave off the worry he felt every time he looked at her pale face.

John navigated his way through the traffic, eventually reaching Kit’s house, and they got out of the car, John retrieving Kit’s bag from the boot. Her hands stuffed into her pockets, her shoulders hunched from the rain, Enya smiled and was clearly about to say goodbye, but Kit interrupted her. “Come inside for a moment.”

Her eyes widened warily. “No, I’ve got a lot to do, I should get going.”

He fixed her with a firm stare. He wasn’t letting her get away with that. “Celt–come on. I need to talk to you.”

She glanced at John, and he took the bag from his father, saying apologetically, “Do you mind waiting here, Dad? I need a few minutes with Enya.”

“Sure.” John’s gaze flicked to Enya, who looked away, but he didn’t say anything, getting back in the car.

Enya followed Kit to the house mutely. He opened the door and dumped his bag inside, then walked through into the living room, waiting for her to follow. She stood before him, hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking at the floor.

He stood before her and waited until she lifted her gaze to his. “Okay,” he said, hands on hips. “What’s going on?”

She studied him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why is there an atmosphere between us?”

She sighed and folded her arms. “Come on, Kit, don’t be dense. This was always going to be difficult.”

“Enya...” He closed the gap between them and cupped her face. “Sweetheart, how could you even think it’s over between us?”

Her blue eyes were icy. “It’s over, Kit. I told you that when we returned to Auckland it would come to an end.” He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers gently. She didn’t move away, but neither did she return it. “Don’t make this harder,” she whispered.

“I’m not letting you go.” He fixed her with a firm stare.

“It’s not up to you.” She lifted her chin out of his hands and moved away. “I’ve enjoyed our holiday, and I’ll always be thankful for what you’ve shown me.” She turned and bit her lip, looking up at him longingly. “You’re a wonderful lover, an amazing man, and I’m sorry it’s not going to work out between us, but it’s over.”

“It’s not.”

“Kit...”

“It’s not!” He moved toward her again. “I don’t know why you’ve got it in your head that it’s not going to work out, but I’m absolutely determined to talk you into staying with me. Don’t you get it, Enya? I love you! I love you, and I want to marry you and have children with you and live with you forever...” His voice trailed off as she closed her eyes, and bit her bottom lip again. It trembled, and to his shock, tears trickled between her lashes.

“I’ve got to go...” she whispered.

“No.” He was angry now. “You’re going to tell me what this is about. We’re good together,
really
good. I’ve always loved you, honey, don’t you understand? Right from the beginning, only I made myself ignore it because you were young, and because of Tris, but I don’t care anymore. I want you, and I’m not going to let you go.” He was almost shouting, and he never raised his voice, shocking himself.

Enya went white. “Kit...” Tears streamed down her face.

“Talk to me!” he yelled.

Her gaze flicked to the door, and he turned to see his father standing there, his face surprisingly calm.

“You tell him.” She spoke to John before walking to the door. Kit caught her hand when she passed him, but she wrenched it free and slipped past John, running out to the car through the rain.

Kit went to pass his father, but John put his arm across the doorway, stopping him. Kit glared at him. “What’s going on?”

“Leave her, son.”

“Why?” He was angrier now than he’d ever been before. “I love her, Dad.”

“I know.” John looked frustrated. “I tried to save you from this–I thought she had more sense.”

Kit slammed his fist into the wall. “For fuck’s sake, tell me what’s going on!”

“She can’t have children, Kit. She’s infertile.”

Kit stared at him. The words bobbed around in his head like a dinghy on the sea, and for a moment he struggled to make sense of them. Then gradually they sank in, filling him with a sick feeling that made him catch his breath. She’d told him they hadn’t needed to use a condom because she was on the pill. But that had been a lie. She couldn’t get pregnant. “That’s what you meant,” he whispered, “when you said she was ‘damaged goods.’”