The Last in Love (Ardent Springs Book 5) Page 13

  Obeying her command, he lowered onto the bed, his eyes never straying from the breathtaking image hovering before him. She looked so perfect he feared this might all be a dream. And then she began unbuttoning the dress, and it was as if every fantasy he’d ever had melded into the perfect reality.

  Pleasure and pain fused as Justin gripped the blanket beneath him, determined to let Abby set the pace. For now. When she reached the button at her navel, his chest caught fire. As the last button, just below the juncture of her thighs, gave way, the flames spread, singeing every cell in his body. She stood before him, dress open from neck to knee, a goddess testing the limits of his control. No undergarments lingered beneath the delicate material, turning the already erotic performance into something he’d never forget for the rest of his days.

  “You’re exquisite,” he whispered.

  The pink that had dappled her cheeks moments before rolled into a full-body blush. “Thank you, but I’m starting to lose my nerve a bit. Maybe you could take over from here.”

  He thought she’d never ask.

  Chapter 14

  Justin hit his knees, just as Virgil had predicted, and gently, as if her skin were an open flame, trailed his fingertips up her legs. When her knees wobbled, he said, “I’ve got you, baby. Hold on a little longer.”

  Abby closed her eyes as his hands slid beneath the hem of her dress. Seconds later, his breath teased the flesh several inches below her navel. “Oh, God,” she murmured, shoving her hands into his hair. He kissed her then, teeth and tongue stealing her ability to breathe or think or stand. “Justin, please,” she said, desperate for more but uncertain she could endure what came next without something to hold her up.

  In one swift motion, he rose to his feet, sweeping Abby off of hers in the process. By the time the startled cry crossed her lips, he’d placed her onto the mattress and was already gliding down her body, the bed dipping beneath his weight somewhere around her weakened knees. The dress fell open like a curtain falling away, exposing every inch of her to the man already driving her mad.

  Hot air danced across her belly, and then lower still, until a moan of ecstasy ripped from her throat.

  “Pace yourself, baby,” he said, every word like a match to her skin. “This is only the beginning.”

  If this was the beginning, Abby might not survive until the end. When his teeth locked on her most sensitive spot, she growled his name as waves of sensation flooded her system. Firm hands spread her thighs, and her core lifted in anticipation, desperate for the torture about to commence. Seconds that felt like days passed before he finally slid his tongue along her folds. She gritted her teeth as the waves grew stronger, creating a buzz in her ears and tingles in various other locations.

  When his oh-so-talented tongue plunged deep, her body rocked against him as inaudible moans and whimpers filled the air. Abby dug her toes into the bed, lifting her hips higher, demanding more while her head rolled from side to side, unable to bear the intensity of her arousal.

  He licked and teased, sucked and kissed, until her body snapped, the orgasm rocketing from her core to flare out in every direction, leaving her trembling and shaken, as weak as a rag doll caught in a hurricane.

  Slowly her grip on the comforter loosened as her lungs recovered. There would be no need to join a gym if they continued this kind of activity. Sex with Justin Donovan felt a hell of a lot better than any Zumba class ever would. And then she remembered they hadn’t actually had sex yet.

  “Heaven help me,” she muttered, still panting as the last ripples of satisfaction ricocheted through her limbs.

  “Is that a prayer or a plea?” he asked, prowling up her body like a panther stalking his prey. His lips grazed hers, the sensual taste of his achievement salty and sweet.

  Abby ran her hands along his rib cage. “How about a request for mercy?” she asked, wanting nothing of the sort.

  Flaxen eyes, barely visible by the light from the hall, softened to liquid gold. “Uh-uh,” he rumbled, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “Tonight isn’t about mercy, darling. It’s about making sure that you are thoroughly”—he paused to take her mouth in a hungry, sensual kiss before continuing—“sexually satisfied.”

  Her body responded instantly to the images his words evoked and, as if an earth-shattering orgasm hadn’t flung her to the stars mere seconds ago, Abby grew wet and restless, grinding up against him, desperate for more.

  “Is that a surrender?” Justin murmured, driving hard against her core.

  Abby didn’t answer. Instead she pushed up hard, flipping them both until she hovered above the man wearing far too many clothes for her liking. “I need skin,” she breathed, opening the buttons of his shirt as quickly as her anxious fingers could manage.

  Justin caressed her breasts, distracting her from the task. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, hands sliding around her rib cage and down to her hips. She arched into him as if his touch controlled her every move. “You’re like a drug I’ll never get enough of.”

  “And you’re still wearing too many clothes,” she argued, desperate to taste and touch. To feel him sliding into her over and over. When the last button gave way, Justin leaned up enough for her to pull the shirt down his arms. The linen landed on the floor as she scooted down to undo his pants, which quickly followed suit. Black boxer briefs were now the only things standing in her way.

  Determined to slow down, Abby cupped him through the strained cotton, testing the length and girth of him. What she found pressed against her palm put an eager smile on her face.

  “I want to ride this,” she purred, bending to drop a hot kiss on his broad chest. The thin sheen of hair tickled her nose before she sat up and let the dress fall off her shoulders.

  “Yes,” he growled, releasing his erection. “I want you, Abby.” Reversing the roles once again, Justin spun her onto her back, bracing above her while reaching for something on the nightstand. Abby didn’t know when he’d put the silver box there but was grateful he’d come prepared. Trailing her fingers over taut, defined abs, she watched him open the package with his teeth before she took over, sliding the condom into place.

  Instead of taking her right away, he lingered, watching her with a reverence she’d never seen in a man’s eyes. This was about more than scratching an itch. Or breaking a dry spell. She could see it on his face, feel it in his touch.

  For one brief, beautiful moment, time stopped, the world fell away, and nothing else mattered. “I know,” she said, running her knuckles along his jaw. “I know, baby.”

  As if these were the words he needed to hear, Justin lowered his hips until he was seated against her. Dragging him down, Abby kissed him with every inexplicable emotion surging through her. And as she did, he drove home, slow and steady, until their bodies became one. When he withdrew, aching pleasure suffused her. The kiss deepened as he picked up the pace, their movements shifting from reverent to primal, and at a certain point Abby could do little more than hang on. She clenched around him, lifting to his powerful rhythm.

  He abandoned her lips to worship her breasts, suckling one nipple before biting hard enough to make her moan with ecstasy. Passion raged and Abby teetered on the edge. The pressure was almost unbearable until his thumb circled her clit and his name ripped from her lungs, guttural and pleading. She gripped his forearms as her teeth clenched and her ankles locked behind his back. Justin plunged on, roaring through his own orgasm seconds later.

  Abby held him tight, reveling in every shake and tremor, knowing exactly how he felt. Their labored breathing cut through the sacred silence, and he finally relaxed against her, careful to shift his weight onto an elbow.

  “I thought I knew how good sex could be,” he panted, head tucked beneath her chin. “I was wrong.”

  The smile of a sated woman curled Abby’s swollen lips. “And to think,” she murmured. “This is only the beginning.”

  His laughter shook them both. “Me and my big promises.”

&n
bsp; She edged his face up to look in his eyes. “You aren’t crying uncle already, are you?”

  Justin brushed a damp lock off her forehead. “Never,” he said, reaching down to slide a thumb over her nipple. “I’ll make love to you for as long as you’ll let me, Abby girl.”

  An emotion she hadn’t experienced in far too long settled deep in her chest. And just like that, her heart drifted into dangerous territory.

  “You do make big promises,” she said, hoping he couldn’t see the tear sliding down her temple.

  He kissed the tear away. “Only for you, angel. Only for you.”

  Justin soaked in the sensation of holding Abby in his arms for several more minutes before sliding off the bed to find a trash can in the bathroom. On his way back to the bed, he lingered in the doorway, savoring every curve sprawled out before him. Though he’d been determined to make this night one that Abby would never forget, the past half hour would be seared in his memory for years to come.

  Not only was she beautiful and smart, but one look from her could turn him inside out. Justin would do anything for this woman. He knew it to the center of his soul. And damn if the knowing didn’t scare the shit out of him. He’d wanted to please her. Had been determined to have her. And in getting what he wanted, Justin had handed Abby a power he’d never given any woman before her.

  The power to break him.

  While he lamented the situation, well aware that there would be no undoing what was done, Abby leaned up on her elbows, perfect breasts bare and begging to be licked.

  “Are you coming back to bed?” she asked, the vixen demanding a ride replaced by a blushing brunette. “Or do you want something to drink?”

  Resigned to his fate, Justin strolled toward the sex-tossed blankets and the woman who now owned his soul. “The only thing I want is you,” he said, lying down beside her. Abby rolled onto her side, using his arm as a pillow and wedging her bottom against his growing arousal. When he kissed the tender skin beneath her ear, she sighed, wiggling in tighter.

  Body fully recovered, Justin trailed kisses up her shoulder as his hand slid over her abdomen. He squeezed her breast and went rock hard when she moaned from deep in her throat. They ground together, a sensual rock forward and back. When she twisted for him, he took her mouth as his hand dipped lower, past her navel, to find the tiny patch of dark hair between her thighs.

  Abby sighed into his mouth as she shivered against him. He hitched his leg over hers, pulling her open to his touch. Her breathing labored, her breasts rose and fell, swelling against his shoulder. After a quick nip of her bottom lip, he stroked his tongue over her taut nipple and found her slick and wet against his searching fingers. Justin entered her, first one finger, and then two, keeping his thumb against her clit, bringing her higher with every stroke.

  “Oh, baby,” she murmured, eyes closed and body writhing. One adept shift and he lifted her off the mattress to straddle his hips, her hot ass curved against his stomach.

  She leaned forward, bracing her hands against his knees, and Justin made quick work sliding the condom into place. As soon as his hands gripped her hips, Abby lowered onto him, his name like a prayer on her lips as he drove into the hilt. Scorched and senseless, he gritted his teeth as she rose up to take him again. Her cries devolved into incomprehensible begging until he pushed her forward, rising onto his knees as her hands locked on to the oak footboard.

  A tight grip on her hips, he entered her again, and Abby thrust back as her head dropped with a moan. Seconds before his control snapped, Justin reached around to bring her to climax, and with a final lunge, her head shot up, sending dark hair trailing over his shoulder as they touched the sky together. Dragging her up until they were both on their knees, he clasped her against his chest and whispered in her ear.

  “You’re mine, Abigail.” His arms tightened with the power surging through his veins. “You’re mine.”

  The moment Abby sensed Justin had drifted off, she slithered from the bed an inch at a time, careful not to wake him. Plucking his shirt off the floor, she slipped into it and hurriedly fastened several buttons before shuffling into the hall.

  As if she’d escaped from a terrifying situation, she pressed her back to the wall, holding her breath in the silence. Soft snores carried from the bed and Abby relaxed. Unsteady legs carried her to the couch, where she plopped down and hugged a newly purchased pillow in her lap. Staring at the bare coffee table, she struggled to process the last hour.

  For one, sex with Justin would undoubtedly be the highlight of the year. Possibly the decade. She could still feel his hands touching her, smell his scent on her skin. Hear his words in her ears.

  You’re mine, Abigail. You’re mine.

  She couldn’t argue that after what they’d just done; she’d belong to him as long as he’d have her. But did that mean he belonged to her?

  Thinking rationally was almost impossible with the sex fog muddying her brain. Her teeth were still tingling, for heaven’s sake. Curling her toes against the couch cushion, Abby rested her chin on the pillow and forced herself to focus. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time. No one but Kyle in nearly a decade, and with him deployed so often during their marriage, she’d never really been intimate with anyone on a regular basis. All of which explained the mixed emotions spinning in her stomach. Doubt, hope, panic, wonder.

  But most of all, fear.

  Like a tsunami, the what-ifs rolled in. What if they’d gone too fast? What if they couldn’t stand each other in the morning? Or worse, what if she never wanted him to leave? Abby panicked at the idea of Justin becoming a permanent part of her life. Saying that she wanted what her friends and family had and actually staring it in the face were two drastically different things.

  You’re mine, Abigail.

  Abby flung the pillow to the side as she bolted from the couch. The orgasms must have knocked something loose in her brain, she thought, tiptoeing to the kitchen. Wine wouldn’t clear her mind, but it might calm her nerves, and right now Abby was willing to try anything.

  Justin woke in a strange bed, staring at an empty pillow and picking up faint music in the distance. Within seconds he knew he was naked, and then he remembered why.

  “Abby,” he whispered, rolling onto his back. A quick search of the room revealed no other inhabitants. The clock on the nightstand said eight thirty, and the darkness visible through the curtains assured him he hadn’t slept through to morning. Thank God.

  Brushing the sheet off his hips, Justin dropped his feet to the floor and found his boxer briefs. If Abby was skittish enough to put distance between them, he probably didn’t need to creep up on her buck naked. Leaning through the doorway, he paused to locate the source of the music. Not a voice he recognized, but he liked the sound.

  Stepping into the hall, he could see the empty living room and headed for the kitchen, where he found Abby engulfed in his shirt with a glass of wine in her hand. A female voice, bluesy and filled with longing, debated whether or not to fall in love through a tiny speaker next to the stove.

  Justin didn’t know what the singer would ultimately decide, but he knew without a doubt how he’d like things to go in real life. Some men ran from commitment, but Justin had never been that type. With Victoria he’d let ambition and money cloud his vision and nearly made a hefty mistake. One he could have undone, but not before she took him for everything he was worth.

  A near miss with the wrong woman made it damn clear when the right one came along.

  “Hey there,” he said, keeping his voice soft so as not to startle her. “I missed you.”

  Abby didn’t flinch. Or turn his way. “I decided to have a drink.”

  Justin spotted the half-empty bottle on the counter and the empty glass next to it. “Mind if I have some?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Stepping around the island, he poured half a glass before leaning a hip against the edge of the new countertop. He could see her face clearly now, at least the half not cov
ered by dark, tousled hair. Green eyes stared forward, unfocused, as if whatever she was looking at didn’t exist in the room with them.

  “Nice music,” he said, and her eyes cut to his.

  “You like this?”

  He listened for a few more lines, until the singer voiced her fear of ending up alone. “I do,” Justin said. “Not exactly a happy tune, but she’s hopeful.”

  Her attention returned to the little speaker next to the hole left by the missing stove. “You think?”

  “Yeah,” he said, closing the distance between them. “I think.” Trailing a knuckle along her jawline, he took a chance. “Why did you leave the bed, Abby?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t think in there.”

  “Maybe we don’t need to think tonight.”

  “Maybe we don’t, but my brain has a mind of its own.” Justin chuckled, but Abby didn’t seem to catch the humor in her statement. “What’s so funny?”

  He sobered. “Nothing, honey.” Setting his glass on the island behind her, he brushed the hair from her eyes and tipped her chin up. “Do you regret anything we’ve done tonight?”

  “No,” she whispered, allowing Justin to breathe again.

  “Good. Now, based on your song choice, I’m guessing that you’re trying to figure out where we go from here. Am I close?”

  “It’s a lot,” she said, trailing a fingernail down his breastbone. “I haven’t felt this much in a long time. Maybe ever.”

  He’d celebrate that little triumph later. “That’s a good thing, right?” he asked.

  Abby sighed. “That’s a scary thing.”

  Lifting her off the floor, he propped her on the island and nestled between her legs. “There’s nothing scary about this,” he soothed, sliding his hands beneath the hem of the shirt. “Just let go, Abby. I’ll catch you.”

  Slipping her arms around his neck, she twirled one hand into his hair. “I like the sound of that.”