47 CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN (1/2)
”I want you now. Here … fast, hard,” he breathes, and his hands are on my thighs, pushing up my skirt. ”Are you still bleeding?”
”No.” I flush.
”Good.”
His thumbs hook over my white cotton panties, and abruptly he drops to his knees as he tugs them off. My skirt is now rucked up so that I'm naked from the waist down and panting, wanting. He grabs my hips, pushing me against the wall again, and kisses me at the apex of my thighs. Grabbing my upper thighs, he forces my legs apart. I groan loudly, feeling his tongue circling my clitoris. Oh my. Tipping my head back involuntarily, I moan as my fingers find their way into his hair.
His tongue is relentless, strong and insistent, washing over me—swirling around and around, again and again—nonstop. It's exquisite, the intensity of feeling—it's almost painful. My body starts to quicken, and he releases me. What? No! My breathing is ragged as I pant, gazing at him with delicious anticipation. He grabs my face with both hands, holding me firmly, and he kisses me hard, thrusting his tongue into my mouth so I can taste my arousal. Unzipping his fly, he frees himself, grabs the backs of my thighs, and lifts me.
”Wrap your legs around me, baby,” he commands, his voice urgent, strained.
I do as I'm told and wrap my arms around his neck, and he moves quickly and sharply, filling me. Ah! He gasps, and I groan. Holding my behind, his fingers digging into my soft flesh, he begins to move, slowly at first—a steady even tempo … but as his control unravels, he speeds up … faster and faster. Ahhh! I tip my head back and concentrate on the invading, punishing, heavenly sensation … pushing me, pushing me … onward, higher, up … and when I can take no more, I explode around him, spiraling into an intense, all-consuming orgasm. He lets go with a deep growl, and he buries his head in my neck as he buries himself inside me, groaning loudly and incoherently as he finds his release.
His breathing is erratic, but he kisses me tenderly, not moving, still inside me, and I blink, unseeing, into his eyes. As he comes into focus, he gently pulls out of me, holding me steady while I place my feet on the floor. The bathroom is now cloudy with steam … and hot. I feel overdressed.
”You seem pleased to see me,” I murmur with a shy smile.
His lips quirk up. ”Yes, Miss Steele, I think my pleasure is pretty self-evident. Come—let me get you in the shower.”
He undoes the next three buttons of his shirt, removes the cuff links, tugs it over his head, and discards it on the floor. Taking off his suit pants and boxer briefs, he kicks them to one side. He begins to undo the buttons on my blouse while I watch him, yearning to reach out and stroke his chest, but I contain myself.
”How was your journey?” he asks mildly. He seems so much calmer now, his apprehension gone, dissolved by sexual congress.
”Fine, thank you,” I murmur, still breathless. ”Thanks once again for first class. It really is a much nicer way to travel.” I smile shyly at him. ”I have some news,” I add nervously.
”Oh?” He looks down at me as he undoes the last button, slips my blouse down my arms, and throws it on top of his discarded clothes.
”I have a job.”
He stills, then smiles at me, his eyes warm and soft.
”Congratulations, Miss Steele. Now will you tell me where?” he teases.
”You don't know?”
He shakes his head, frowning. ”Why would I know?”
”With your stalking capabilities, I thought you might have …” I trail off as his face falls.
”Anastasia, I wouldn't dream of interfering in your career, unless you ask me to, of course.” He looks wounded.
”So you have no idea which company?”
”No. I know there are four publishing companies in Seattle—so I am assuming it's one of them.”
”SIP.”
”Oh, the small one, good. Well done.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. ”Clever girl. When do you start?”
”Monday.”
”That soon, eh? I'd better take advantage of you while I still can. Turn around.”
I am thrown by his casual command but do as I'm bid, and he undoes my bra and unzips my skirt. He pushes my skirt down, cupping my behind as he does and kissing my shoulder. He leans against me and his nose nuzzles my hair, inhaling deeply. He squeezes my buttocks.
”You intoxicate me, Miss Steele, and you calm me. Such a heady combination.” He kisses my hair. Grabbing my hand, he tugs me into the shower.
”Ow,” I squeal. The water is practically scalding. Christian grins down at me as the water cascades over him.
”It's only a little hot water.”
And actually he's right. It feels heavenly, washing off the sticky Georgia morning and the stickiness from our lovemaking.
”Turn around,” he orders, and I comply, turning to face the wall. ”I want to wash you,” he murmurs, and reaches for the body wash. He squirts a little into his hand.
”I have something else to tell you,” I murmur as his hands start on my shoulders.
”Oh yes?” he asks mildly.
I steel myself with a deep breath. ”My friend José's photography show is opening Thursday in Portland.”
He stills, his hands hovering over my breasts. I have emphasized the word ”friend.”
”Yes, what about it?” he asks sternly.
”I said I would go. Do you want to come with me?”
After what feels like a monumental amount of time, he slowly starts washing me again.
”What time?”
”The opening is at seven thirty p.m.”
He kisses my ear.
”Okay.”
Inside my subconscious relaxes and then collapses, slumped into an old battered armchair.
”Were you nervous about asking me?”
”Yes. How can you tell?”