Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) (27 page)

“Michael, what if . . . what if he wants to kill me? What if that’s his plan?” I stiffen. “He said he painted the room blue, my favorite color, bought ropes…” I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut.

I pull away from his arms and make my way toward the large bay window, staring out at the peaceful shore. I start to freak out, and my body begins to tremble. I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at it. I spin around to face Michael, who is just as anxious and uneasy as I am.

“How . . . in God’s name did he know the description of the ring?” I hiss out. “Oh God, I’m so confused. This is a mind game to him. He wants me to crack.”

Michael advances over to me, and encircles me into his arms. He senses the shivers rushing through my trembling body.

“Maybe when he was in your apartment he went through the boxes and found the ring,” he explains.

“The ring was hidden, nothing looked out of place.”

“It’s still a possibility.”

“Maybe,” I murmur into his chest and inhale his fresh out-of-the-shower scent. I’m swept up against him, swaying in his arms, and we fall onto the small sofa.

“I think Josh is right. You should see a doctor or therapist?” Michael suggests.

“No, it’s in the past,” I say sternly.

“Oh, sweetheart, I can’t tell you what to do, but you have so many scars that need to be healed. You scared the living daylights out of me last night, not just me, but my brothers too. I’m worried something else might surface through, and none of us will be around to help.” His concern over me makes me feel cherished.

“I just want Trent to find this guy. After that, I’ll think about it. I need to take small steps.”

“Okay, I’ll stand by you in whatever you decide.” He picks me and stands me on my feet and cradles my face with his big, warm hands. His lips reach mine, and he gives me the gentlest kiss, a kiss that would dim the sun. “I’ll clean up the kitchen before we head back,” he says against my lips.

“We’ll both clean up,” I offer.

Chapter 24

This Was Magical

We park in the underground garage of my apartment building. We step into the elevator, riding up in silence, and then exit into the foyer.

The doors close with a whoosh. I spin on my heels, facing him. I wrap my arms around his waist and gaze up at his beautiful face.

“There’s something I need to ask you,” I say and gape at his soft, smooth lips, craving to taste them.

“Yes,” he says hoarsely, causing my heart to race as I watch his eyes grow dark.

“I was wondering if our show can broadcast your hotel in Hong Kong when you hold the grand opening,” I ask, holding my breath and hoping he will say agree.

He gives me a peck on the forehead. “I’m sure this could be arranged. I’ll need to check with Mark, my partner, but I don’t see any reason for him to object. We’ve had a myriad of changes we may not open for another two or three months.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling his heat secrete from his body.

His eyes study mine with an immoral hunger. He tilts his head to the left, right eyebrow lifted, revealing his compelling smile. My breath hitches as his two fingers erotically trail from my lower lip to my chin and down my collarbone, making me quiver.

He leans forward and we’re eye-to-eye. I can feel his soft breath caressing my skin and unexpectedly his lips capture my mouth, kissing me wild and fierce. I encircle my arms around his neck, savoring the flavor of waffles and strawberries, and I melt into his infectious kiss.

I let out a small gasp when he propels me against the elevator doors, causing an instant shiver from the cool wood seeping into my back. His body presses hard against mine, his heat penetrating through his clothes.

A powerful urge washes over me. I want his beautiful mouth making love to every part of my body. I feel our soul’s binding, as our pulsating, beating hearts fuse like melted sugar.

I’m startled when the right heel of my shoe snaps off, jerking us apart, and my knees buckle with a slight bend.

I glance down at my broken heel. “Damn,” I mutter, slipping my foot out of my shoe.

He bends down and as he removes the other one. He begins to massage my foot, kneading the small little pressure points, causing me to go weak and dissolve right into his hands. He looks up with smoldering eyes and grins. He gradually rises, towering over me like the Adonis, who captured my heart at the restaurant.

He takes me by the chin and smiles wickedly. “You, my love, are bewitching. I never felt such an acceleration of energy in my entire existence,” he declares.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me? How my heart pounds painfully against my chest whenever I’m with you? I can’t even think straight,” I whisper, confessing my inner thoughts in his ear, with arms enfolded around his neck. “God, Michael, I love you so damn much, my insides quiver like Jell-O.” I run my fingers gingerly across his lightly stubbled face. “Make love to me,” I plead.

His eyes light up with surprise. “Are you sure?” He asks, waiting for a positive affirmation from me.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His lips gingerly brush against mine and I feel him smiling. His fingers trace around the form of my mouth and down to my breast, just a centimeter shy of my harden nipple and my breath hitches. Without warning, I am swept up into his arms. He walks with perseverance toward my bedroom. I slowly glide down his body until my feet reach the floor, standing against the bed, gazing into his eyes.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he says in a husky voice. He tugs me closer and cups the nape of my neck, then pulls me into his mouth, kissing me with an undying passion, turning my emotions into an uncontrollable tailspin. He pulls away, and we’re both breathing hard. His eyes fully dilated, shadowed with desire. “We’re overdressed, don’t you think, Ariana?” He says with panting breaths.

I nod anxiously, sensing heat and moisture rush between my legs.

We remove each other’s clothes. No, scratch that. We rip them off in accelerated speed. My hands are shaking, unable to unbutton his shirt, so I tear the lapels apart, and once again, the buttons pop off, one by one, hitting the floor like little marbles, scattering in different directions. He chuckles, unsnaps my bra and pushes the straps over my shoulders in heated urgency. It falls pooling around my feet. He places his thumbs on each side of my lace panties and shimmies them down over my legs and past my ankles, and tosses them across the room. He rises up in a provocative way and puts his hands over my shoulders and gazes down at me.

“You are so damn sexy. You have a beautiful body, flawless skin, perfect everything.” He kisses the top of my head and pulls back. “We are going to take this slow,” he whispers against my ear, sending chills down my spine. He removes a condom from his pants and sheathes himself. “Always prepared,” he says with a smile.

“I knew you were a smart man.”

He kisses and nibbles around my lobe. His teeth lightly graze over my neck, working his way down to my throbbing breasts, causing the goose bumps to burst over my skin. I stop breathing as he captures one in his mouth and starts to suck slowly, tasting and teasing. A low growl rumbled from his chest.

He gently caresses every inch of my flesh. I squeeze my eyes shut and stiffen when he reaches my back, and I sense his want and need to feel them.

“Relax sweetheart . . . take deep breaths. It’s me, Michael who loves you unconditionally. I love everything about you, your beauty, brains, your kind heart, and every scar. They belong to me now. You belong to me.
Mine
,” he whispers softly against my lips making me sizzle inside and in one quick move, we’re on my bed. His lips crush into mine kissing me with a fiery inferno.

I brush my fingers over every beautiful part of his body feeling his scorching heat beneath the palms of my hands. My body slightly shifts beneath his, cherishing his warm flesh against mine.

I let out a loud gasp as he swipes his tongue over my nipple, moaning as the ache between my legs cries out. He entraps my breast and draws it hard into his mouth while stroking the other until I see double.

“So delicious,” he murmurs into my breast.

I arch into him and snake myself around him, moaning into his neck, begging for more, for all of him.

He lowers his hands to the vertex of my thighs, teasing me. I drew in a breath as my body trembles––wanting and demanding him to touch me more. He slowly works one then two fingers between my pink folds.

I gasp and tense as the pleasure propels through me, tingling and scorching in my veins. “Michael, please,” I cry out in desperate want.

He lifts his head and gazes into my eyes. “Tell me what you want, Ariana,” he whispers, his breathing harsh and eyes dark with want.

My hands skim between our bodies’ and gently grasp the beautiful work of art God has created. He lets out a gasp, releasing a moan as his body quivers against mine.

“Damn, Ariana, you’re killing me,” he growls out.

“This. I want all of you inside me now before I burst.”

He leans up on one elbow; his warm hand reaches between my thighs, spreading my legs apart ever so gently. “I thought I could take this slow, but the mere thought of being inside you is driving me crazy,” he rasps out. “Hold on tight,” he says in a sexy voice and at a blink of an eye he thrusts into me hard-and-fast, filling and stretching me internally, so deep I can taste him. I cry out as a powerful, tingling sensation rushes over me, causing me to black out for a few seconds, sucking in sharp shallow breaths.

He repeatedly slams into me with raw rage, flesh against flesh, immersing deeper into my soul, making my core contract, setting free the juices he’s been craving, creating an erotic vibration that tears me in two and my eyes begin to roll to the back of my head. The series of emotions from the past and the present begin to dissolve into tiny molecules as I start to peak over the edge.

“Come for me, Ariana. Let go, baby. Let me hear you.”

I arch into him feeling his long, thickness penetrate into my walls, in and out in and out. I clench onto him, my nails digging into his back feeling the explosion of the orgasm rush through me like a drug as his flesh continues to rub against my walls.

“Ahhh! Michael!” I cry out and a ray of colors burst before me, causing my body to quiver and shake uncontrollably.

“Damn it, you feel like silk, so soft, wet and hot,” he grunts out, his body slapping against mine, ready to erupt into a million pieces.

Michael is not far behind as he cries out and his body begins to quiver. His head falls back; his neck grows stiff, forearms strained. “Ariana,” he screams out, breathing heavy and wraps his arms around me, embracing me closer against his body as his continues to violently pulsate inside me.

I shower him with a trail of kisses over his shoulders and neck, nipping and grazing his skin between my teeth and tasting his sweat as his tremors begin to diminish and the tension in his muscles starts to ease beneath my fingers. He blows out a long breath, rolls off, taking me with him, wrapping me into his chest.

“God, that was amazing. I’ve dreamed of making love to you, but never imagined it to be this incredible. You’re beautiful, Ariana. I hope I didn’t hurt you baby,” he murmurs against my ear and kisses me, caressing my face and shoulder, and I’m at a loss for words, thoroughly sated.

“No, you didn’t hurt me. You were wonderful. God, Michael, I love you so much.” I whisper with my eyes half open, feeling the effects as exhaustion begins to wash over me.

“I love you too, sweet thing.” He kisses me one last time before we both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

***

I wake up gasping for breath and sweating only to find half of Mr. Wonderful’s body laying over me. “Michael,” I choke out.

His eyes snap open. “Oh God, Ariana, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says and rolls off of me but not before he kisses me. “Are you okay?” His eyes filled with love and concern.

“Yes, very okay.” I sigh, feeling bewildered by the love we shared together. I had no idea how wonderful and gratifying this could be. Love is the main ingredient to life’s eternal fulfillment, the most powerful force of energy in the universe. No drug or alcohol can ever surpass the power of love.

“Are you okay?” He asks. His eyes search mine as he strokes my bangs to the side, and a broad grin appears over his face, revealing the beautiful man he is.

“I’m beyond ok. This was breathtaking, special, and a memory that will last me a lifetime,” I say, and I reminisce of our time together—our first-lunch date, his concern and safety for me, the polo match, our dance, Sands Point, and how our relationship has evolved into this glorious evening.

Michael sits up and pulls me up against his chest. “Ariana, what’s swirling around in your little mind? Did I hurt you?” He asks with a soft, soothing tone, brushing his hand over my face.

I shake my head. “No, Michael, you were wonderful. I never experienced such beautiful lovemaking in my life. This was . . . magical. I just . . . I don’t want this to end.”

He jerks back, surprised. He lifts my chin up to face him. I stare into his eyes, hypnotized by their beauty.

“Oh, Ariana . . . this is only the beginning. I love you.” He beams, blinding me with his smile. He embraces me into his body, kissing my forehead. “I love you,” he repeats for reassurance.

“Michael, I’m worried about this psychotic maniac who is out there roaming the streets. I’m terrified he’s going to hurt you.” I inhale deep and release it with slow, steady breaths. “Just when I finally meet the man of my dreams.”

He leans over, picks up the duvet, and shelters us from the chilly air. “Ariana, why would you think that? I’m the one who is in constant knots.” He gives me a gentle squeeze.

“Did Trent’s message last night slip your mind?”

He appears puzzled, and seconds later, he frowns. A light bulb goes off in his head.
Now
he remembers.

“Sweetheart, I’m not alarmed about his threats against me. I’m more concerned about the effect he has on you and what he’s mentally putting you through,” he explains as he pushes himself up to rest against my headboard.

“Hey, I just caught what you said. Ariana, no one’s ever called me a man of her dreams.” He chuckles with genuine sincerity, his smile provocative.

“I find this hard to believe, Mr. Grayson,” I remark. “You’re branded as one of the top ten wealthiest, handsomest bachelors in the world,” I say with a sardonic tone.

“Ariana, I’m just a man with a label for my wealth and success. I don’t follow what reporters or journalists decide to write about me. However, my fortune is where the problem begins. Most women are only after my money. Finding a genuine woman who is interested in me, and not all the superficial crap I own is difficult.

“I hope you’re aware I love you inside and out, not the material objects you possess or your worth.”

“I never doubted you for a moment. I knew you were genuine the moment your eyes captured my heart, sweetheart,” he whispers, caressing my face and then kissing my nose and lips with pure affection.