Take You Away: A Novella (3 page)

Jesus, there’s nothing like the pain of a woman’s fingernails clawing at your skin. It’s like fire straight into your flesh. I give her nipple another twist, and she tightens her grip. It makes my whole body throb.

I kiss my way down her throat to her chest. I keep my fingers on her nipple until the last second, until I can replace them directly with my lips. And then I suck that hard pink nub between my teeth.

And my sweet little Louisa loses it. She cries out and thrusts her body almost violently up against mine. Her legs tighten around my hips, and her nails send spears of pain through the muscles of my back.

"Ward…" she sobs. She tosses her head back and forth, whimpering as I nibble and tease her breast with my teeth. I want to suck her skin raw. Wake every nerve beneath that delicate flesh. Show her pleasure no man has ever shown her before. Only when I think she's about to explode do I stop, and then it’s only to move to the other breast and repeat my work.

The sounds she’s making are incredible. Pushing me to the edge. If I don’t rein things in, I might come right here in my jeans. But I’m not ready to lose it just yet. When I come, it’s going to be inside that tight, perfect little body of hers.

I pull away from her. Just enough to slide my hand down her beautiful stomach. Her skin is smooth and she’s curvy in all the right places.

"You’re perfect," I murmur as I unbutton her jeans.

Her eyes have darkened to the color of cocoa, and they’re shadowed with pleasure. Her blond curls are spread out around her on the comforter, and she looks a little like a fallen angel—innocent and lusty all at once.

I push her jeans down just enough to slip my fingers between her legs. Jesus, she’s wet. Wet and hot and waiting for me. I thought I was completely hard before, but I was wrong. I start to stroke her, and her mouth parts around a cry.

I keep my eyes on hers as my fingers move. I want to see every shift of her expression. Every rush of pleasure. Every flicker of desire. And I want her to see the same thing in my eyes. See what she does to me. I never want her to forget, even for a second, how much I want her.

My thumb presses against her clit, and she moans. But she doesn’t look away from me. She knows this game. Her thighs part a little more and her hips lift up off the bed.

"Please," she whispers. "Please…"

Hearing her beg makes me crazy. I want to drive her just as wild.

I slide a finger inside of her. She whimpers, and her eyes roll back slightly before locking on mine again. I move my hand slowly, making sure to press against her clit with every in-stroke. I love the way her hands clutch at me. The way her eyelids flutter halfway closed every time I thrust inside of her. The way her inner muscles clench and unclench and clench again around my finger.

It should be illegal for someone to be this fucking intoxicating.

And the most beautiful thing isn’t her soft moans or her full, waiting lips. It’s that right now, there’s not a hint of sadness or grief in her eyes. She's completely here. In this moment with me.

"I need you," she says. "Please. I need you."

I need her, too. And I can’t wait a minute longer. I pull back and yank her jeans and underwear all the way down her legs. She kicks her feet free, and I toss the clothes aside. When I lean over her again, she grabs my shirt and pulls it over my head. We both go for my fly at the same time, our fingers working together to get my pants off as fast as humanly possible.

As soon as I’m naked, she pulls me back on top of her again. Her arms and legs wrap around me, holding me close to her, but it’s not nearly close enough for me. I want to be in her. Around her.
With
her. I want to hear her scream my name.

I’m between her legs. All I have to do is thrust and I’ll be inside her. And there’s nothing I want more than to enter her like this. With no stupid latex barriers between us. I want to feel
her
,
not the inside of a condom. I want to take her completely. Fill her completely. The way nature intended us to come together.

But I’m not an idiot.

It takes all of my willpower to hold back, but I’m not going to make the same mistakes my biological father did. And that means taking precautions.

I drag myself away from her. "Condom."

She nods and exhales, letting her head fall back against the pillow. I leap up from the bed and grab my pants. I still have a condom stuffed in my wallet, thank God. I should’ve thought to grab more at the convenience store, but it’s too late for that now. We can have one go, and then we’re just going to have to control ourselves for the rest of the night.

I slide on the condom and turn back toward the bed. She’s lying there on the musty old comforter, looking up at me with wide eyes. She smiles at me, her face so full of need that it makes my cock pulse in my hand.

For a moment, I just stand there staring at her, taking in the full picture of her gorgeous body. Her grin widens under my admiring gaze, and after a moment she props herself up on her arm. Her hair spills down over her shoulder.

"How long are you going to make me wait?" she says.

Her voice is breathy, and once again I find myself thinking of her as a siren. She has no idea how much power she has over me, does she?

My muscles are rigid with restraint. I grin back at her, and though I want nothing more than to hurl myself at her and take her right now, I manage to stay where I am.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask her.

Her eyes crinkle. "I want you to get over here before I throttle you."

I step closer, but I’m not about to let her off the hook before she answers me. I want to hear it from her lips.

"Tell me what you want," I say. My voice is lower than it was a moment ago, and I watch the arousal darken her face. My muscles tense again, aching to grab her and take her, but I want to hear the words first.

She’s never been shy about this sort of thing, and she’s not shy now. She reaches up and runs her fingers down my chest. A tremor moves through my skin. I close my hands into fists so I’m not tempted to touch her in return.

"I want you on top of me," she says. "And I want you inside of me." Her smile drops slightly. "I want you to take me somewhere far, far away."

My chest tightens. A little of that sadness has returned to her eyes, and I want to make it disappear again.

"I’ll take you away," I promise her, lowering myself on the bed again. "I’ll take you so far you won’t remember anything but me." No complicated family crap. No shitty motel room.

I close my hand around her breast again, and she shivers. I’m going to make her whole body shake.

I lower myself on top of her. She sighs beneath my weight, and it’s all I can do not to sink into her immediately. I want to draw this out. Draw every ounce of need from her.

But her hands come up around my neck, and when she kisses me, there’s no holding back.

I drive into her. She gasps into my mouth, and it’s too much to take, all of it—the feel of her around my cock, the taste of her on my tongue. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her right now.

I move slowly at first. I want to hear every sound I draw from her lips. Feel every tremor that moves through her body in response to my steady strokes. She’s digging her nails into my back again, and every time she tightens her grip, she sends another bolt of pleasure straight to my groin.

And there’s nothing to hold either of us back now. I thrust into her again and again, giving her everything I have to give, and she arches herself up to meet me every time. There’s no hesitation, no doubt in either of us. We know what we need.

I’m going to be everything she needs.

The bed rocks and creaks beneath us. The frame slams against the wall and the mattress groans with our movements, but I don’t care if everyone in this whole damn place hears us. I don’t care about anything but her. I want to keep drawing those noises from her lips. I want to feel her come around my cock.

And it’s all I can do to keep from finishing myself as I draw her closer to her peak. It’s torture, holding myself back from the edge, but it’s worth every second of pain. Our movements become more desperate. There’s so much sweat dripping down my face that my vision is foggy, but I don’t miss the way she bites down on her lip as she does when she’s close to coming. Her own body is slick with perspiration, glowing with the heat that I’ve called out of her. She squeezes my hips with her thighs and pulls my mouth down to hers one more time before she explodes.

Feeling her contract around my cock sends stars across my vision. And it unleashes something wild in me. I growl against her lips, but the sound is so animal I hardly recognize it as coming from my own chest. It doesn’t take long for me to join her—one thrust, two, three—and the final one slams the headboard back against the wall so hard that it feels like the entire room is moving around us. I take her mouth hungrily, riding out the ecstasy with the sweetness of her on my lips.

Afterwards, I stay on top of her, unwilling to leave her. Unwilling to let her go just yet. She’s so warm beneath me, and I can feel her heart beating between her breasts. Her breath is hot against my ear. She keeps her arms and legs wrapped around me, and I can tell that she doesn’t want to move apart either. We both just lie there, panting, and I brush a kiss against her hair. She’s safe here, beneath me.

A while later, Louisa finally breaks the silence.

"Did we…" Her head turns slightly away from me. "Did we break the bed?"

I sit halfway up and glance around. Sure enough, the whole room’s at an angle. Well, the bed’s at an angle. And we’re definitely a lot closer to the ground than we were a few minutes ago. When I lean my head over the side, I can see that half of the mattress is resting on the floor.

"Never done that before," I say.

Louisa starts laughing first. And then I join in, our bodies shaking together as we take in the damage we caused. Jesus, her laugh is beautiful. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close to me again.

When the laughter stops, she sighs and nestles her head beneath my chin. Her body relaxes in my arms, and one of her hands rests on my side, her fingers skimming back and forth across my skin. I can tell the exact moment she remembers who she is and why she’s here, because her fingers stop moving and she takes a slow, shaky breath.

"Thank you," she whispers against my throat. "Thank you." She says it again and again, like she can’t possibly believe one time is enough, and fuck, if it doesn’t tear my heart out.

"I’m not going anywhere," I tell her. "We're in this together." The conviction in my voice shocks even me. I haven’t even known this girl a month, and yet it’s unimaginable that I could ever let her deal with all of this crap on her own. That I could ever belong anywhere but right here, with her in my arms.

It’s fucking insane, that’s what it is.

I’ve dated plenty of women before. But it was never anything serious. Never anything complicated. I saw what love did to my mom. She never stopped loving Edward Carolson, even after he knocked her up and left her. She spent most of her life pining after that asshole.

It’s not like I’ve actively avoided having any similar feelings. But I’ve never gone out of my way to encourage them, either. I'm not one of those guys who gets whipped by every pair of tits that throws attention his way.

But I can’t deny it: I’ve never felt this protective of anyone, except my mom. I’ve never had a girl get beneath my skin the way Louisa has in only a couple of weeks. From the first time she kissed me, I was lost, and I’m not sure whether I’m thrilled by that or whether I should pull myself together and run the other way.

As long as she’s here, so delicate and vulnerable in my arms, it doesn’t seem like a choice. I couldn’t give this up, not for a million dollars. Not for every ounce of affection my biological father has in his body. Not for anything.

But that’s what scares me so much.

How much can I really help her? Sure I can kiss her and hold her and tell her I won’t let anything happen to her, but where does that really leave her in the end? I’m just some guy who was willing to give her the distraction she needed. What happens when the distraction is no longer enough?

I can’t even handle my own shit. My behavior back at Huntington Manor was proof enough of that. I’m used to fighting my way out of my problems. Or, failing that, fighting in order to
forget
my problems. I’m not exactly the master of healthy coping mechanisms. She should know better than that.

And yet she asked me to take her away. And even now, she’s curled up against me like I’m some sort of savior.

I kiss the top of her head. She tilts her face up toward mine, and I press my mouth against each of her eyelids. She might be frightened and confused, but I am, too. I don’t know where we’re going to go from here. How we’re going to pay for it. How the hell we’re going to outrun our demons. We’re both lost. Together.

And that’s the most terrifying thought of all.

LILY

Calder hasn’t said anything in three hours.

I’ve tried all of my usual tricks. Poured him a glass of wine. Slipped on my skimpiest lingerie. Wrapped my arms around his neck and sucked his earlobe into my mouth. But though those last two stunts definitely got
some
reaction out of him, he still won't talk to me about what’s going on in his head.