Papaioannou 01 - Ever Fallen in Love Page 7

  “Oh, I liked you naked,” I admitted, assessing what was going on, more than a little amazed by the circumstance. There I was in the arms of a man, the arms of a half-naked man, one I had just met, and rather than feeling vaguely nauseous, my whole body was trying hard to get me to press it up against Theo. “But you knew that. You were deliberately being naked at me, with all those muscles, and the chest, and the hands, and not a ton of body hair, which I’d expected because you’re Greek, and I thought all Greek men were, you know, hirsute, but you aren’t overly hairy, which I think you were also doing deliberately just so I’d notice.”

  “My mother was English,” he said, his voice sounding odd. He released me to step back, amusement dancing in those pretty dark blue eyes. “That helps with the need to wax everything off. As for being deliberately naked at you—I don’t know what to say. I told you I wasn’t shy.”

  “Well, as to that, if I had a body like yours, I wouldn’t be shy either,” I said.

  “If you had a body like mine, I wouldn’t even now be fantasizing about kissing you,” he answered, and I couldn’t help but smile a little.

  “What ... uh ...” I cleared my throat, feeling all shades of awkward even though I tried to adopt a nonchalant pose. “What are you doing in the fantasy?”

  “Kiera Taylor,” he said in a faux-shocked voice, his eyes wide. “Are you flirting with me? A man who was a few minutes ago naked in your presence?”

  I felt a giggle rise in me. “I’m not a sexless freak, you know. I just don’t like ...”

  “Men who are pretty, have big bodies and sizable cocks, not that mine is unnaturally huge or anything. Not porn-star big. Just a normal size, one suitable for the job at hand. So to speak.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said, my gaze dropping to the front of his jeans. “It seemed pretty beefy to me.”

  “I want badly to both leer at you and adopt a modest mien, but since I suspect you wouldn’t see either in this dim light, I will simply tell you that in my kissing fantasy I have my hands on your hips, and am teasing you into opening your mouth to me by kissing along your sweet, delectable lips, nipping that plump lower lip that I badly want to taste, after which, with a sigh of pleasure, you open up to me, allowing me into your sweetness.”

  I stared at him, the images he was evoking dancing enticingly in my mind, my tongue having cleaved once again to the roof of my mouth. I tried to be angry about that, but couldn’t. “That’s ... that’s a pretty specific fantasy. What am I doing in it?”

  “Ah, now, your participation is very important,” he said, his voice grave, but his eyes full of warmth and amusement. It was an oddly arousing expression, and I couldn’t help but take a step closer to him. “I would like to say that you ripped off my clothes and demanded to have your wanton way with me, but you were not so easily swayed by my charms. Instead, you chose to toy with me by putting your hands on my ass, lightly dragging your nails up and down my spine.”

  A little tremor shook me at the thought of my hands on that ass. “Do I bite you anywhere?”

  One of his glossy black eyebrows rose. “Do you want to?”

  “Yes,” I answered without thinking. My eyes went to the cords in his neck. “There’s a spot ... it just struck me that it might be nice to bite ... not that I’m a vampire or anything ... but that spot on your neck is kind of ... interesting.”

  “Then you may bite it,” he said after a moment. I couldn’t help but notice that his hands were fisted. “I will happily yield my neck to you. Er ... was there anything else you wanted to do in my fantasy?”

  “Your chest,” I said, my body demanding that I walk it over and rub it against him. In fact, before I realized I was doing it, I moved forward again. What the hell was this madness? I never felt instant attractions for men, certainly not after the experience of Mikhail, but Theo was ... different.

  No man is different. They’re all the same underneath, the voice in my head said.

  “What about it?” Theo’s voice went rough about the edges. “Do you touch it in my fantasy?”

  “Oh, yes,” I breathed, taking another step, leaving me so close to him that my breasts touched his chest with every breath I took in. “I would definitely be spreading my fingers across it, touching all those lovely thick muscles, and kissing your nipples.”

  “My nipples would like that,” he said, his voice outright husky now. His fingers spread wide, then twitched, but he kept his arms at his sides, and for that, I was profoundly grateful.

  Men who looked like him, the ones who probably had to pry women off them with a spatula, were not known for their restraint. They were arrogant, assuming they had the right to do whatever they wanted without first asking. And yet here was Theo, making an effort to keep himself in check.

  Because he knew I’d been frightened. A little piece of ice that had built up around my heart cracked, and broke off.

  I cleared my throat again. “And then there’s your belly.”

  His stomach contracted. “What do you want to do to it? Please tell me it involves your tongue. And your breasts. Both, possibly at the same time if you are especially flexible.”

  “I’m not particularly so, although I’m fast.”

  He blinked at me.

  I gave a little laugh. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Theo?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to kiss you.” I swallowed hard when the words left my lips, but I felt strongly that I had to find an outlet for all the feelings he had stirred in me with just a few words. I had to know if he was a man I could trust, and that meant I had to leave myself vulnerable to him.

  Just a little. Just to see what he did with it.

  “Kissing you has been on the top of the list of things I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

  “We met this morning,” I pointed out.

  “An eon ago,” he agreed, and reached for me.

  I froze for a moment, but allowed him to pull me until I swayed into him, my mind overcome with the sensation of that delicious hard body pressed against my own. I’d never been one to feel overly feminine, but the way my body molded to his made me appreciate the softness that was inherent in women. “I want to kiss you,” I repeated, a warning note in my voice.

  His eyes were on my mouth.

  “That is, I don’t want you to kiss me. Well, not at first. Does that make sense?”

  “No,” he said quickly, but the corners of his lips quirked. “Don’t let that stop you, though. Can I leave my hands on your hips?”

  “Yes,” I said, tilting my head up. I was a tall woman, but Theo was taller than me by about five inches, not so much that I couldn’t stand on tiptoes and kiss him, but enough of a difference that it made me feel even more feminine. My lips brushed his in the lightest of touches.

  “Would you mind if I touched your breasts, too?” he inquired as I kissed first one corner of his mouth, then another.

  I thought about it for a moment, testing to see if that made me feel panicky.

  My breasts certainly were go for Theo’s hands. They all but clamored to be placed into them, and the sooner the better. “All right,” I said.

  I continued feathering little kisses across his mouth. His lips were relaxed, parted ever so slightly, leaving me feeling hot and restless. “How do you feel about tongues?” I asked, shifting my hips so that the aching part of me was pressed tighter against him.

  “I approve of them in both utilitarian and sexual use,” he answered, his lips touching mine as he spoke. His hands, which had been resting on the curve of my hips, moved, his fingers spreading when they slid upward. His thumbs brushed the undersides of breasts that were suddenly far too sensitive for my peace of mind.

  “OK. I’m going in,” I said, my hands on his shoulders as I leaned even harder into him, my tongue teasing the space between his lips.

  I made tentative little dabs into the warmth of his mouth, the act intimate, but it felt right. He felt right.

  U
ntil he gets angry, and then he will use your attraction to him to punish you, the dark voice spoke in my head.

  “You won’t try to boss my mouth around?” I asked, the voice in my head stirring a tendril of doubt that was making the pleasure I experienced fade a little.

  “I will do whatever you want me to do,” he said. “And not that I’m not enjoying this to the utmost, which I am, even though you may well just kill me if you tease me anymore as you did with that last pass, but I would like to point out that if at any time you’d like me to take over, I will be happy to do so.”

  I nipped his bottom lip, my hands sweeping down his sides, the muscles underneath the silky flesh lying in thick bands. I wanted badly to grab his butt with both hands, but I reminded myself that not only had I just met him that day; I would much prefer to have the butt naked before I groped it. “All right, I’ll let you take over, but I reserve the right to have you stop at any time.”

  “I agree to your terms,” he said in a no-nonsense manner, and slowly moved his hands up over my breasts until he cupped my face, angling my head slightly to one side. His lips were gentle on mine, but more persistent than I had been with him. He teased, he nipped, he sucked my lower lip into his mouth until I moaned, and moved against him again, feeling the growing length of him on my pelvic bone. Then he was inside my mouth, his tongue sweeping in, but it was an invasion my entire body welcomed, my fingers digging into his shoulders with the pleasure of it all.

  “I’ve never—Lord, your chest—I’ve never been one for French-kissing,” I said when we came up for breath. “Tongues are ... you know, slimy ... but this is ...”

  “Good?” he asked, smiling down at me.

  “Very.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. Can I suggest we sit on the bed and continue?”

  My gaze swiveled to the bed, assessing my feelings. “I’m not going to have sex with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I wouldn’t presume,” he answered, gently tugging me as he backed up to the bed. “Remember when I swore I wouldn’t ever strike you? You can add to that my solemn promise that I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  I wanted to believe him, oh, how I wanted to believe. But I’d been fooled before, with dire consequences. Still, I trusted my ability to escape should he lose control, and allowed him to pull me down onto his lap. He kissed me again, his hands sliding under my T-shirt, the long, blunt fingers seeming to be made of fire when they stroked and teased my breasts.

  “Kiera,” he said, the word almost a moan as he cupped both of my breasts, his mouth hot and suddenly very demanding on mine. “If you knew what you do to me. What your breasts do to me. And your hips. And legs. You have very long legs. I want very much to show you the pleasure we could have together with your hips and breasts and your legs wrapped around me.”

  I gave in to the desire that I had tried to fight for what seemed like such a very long time, and nuzzled his neck before gently biting on that tendon that sang a sweet siren song to me.

  Beneath me, he froze; then suddenly, I was on my back, and he loomed over me. My breath caught in my throat, but it wasn’t panic that flooded my brain—it was sexual need, a desire so strong, it overwhelmed me, almost making me shake with want.

  “That, my tempting little gazelle, is not playing fair. Let’s see how you like this.”

  He pushed up my shirt, revealing my breasts. He paused, glancing up. “Bra on or off?”

  Off, my body shrieked at me even as my back arched. Off, off, off!

  “On,” I said, knowing I had to have some control of my desires.

  He nodded, then dipped his head down, his hands on the undersides of my breasts, his breath steaming the valley between them. I moaned softly as he nuzzled, he kissed, he rubbed them with stubbly cheeks, the sensation both soft and extremely arousing, and by the time his tongue got into the action, I knew I had to stop him or I really would end up fulfilling his fantasy of ripping off all his clothes and having my way with him.

  Slowly, very slowly, I slid out from underneath him. My breath was ragged, my body one giant erogenous zone that yelled rude words at me for removing it from Theo. “Thank you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “For kissing you?” he asked, rolling over so that he leaned back on one arm.

  I would not look at the bulge in his jeans. I absolutely would not look at it.

  I looked. “Jeezumcrow, Theo, it looks like you have a bulldog stuffed down your pants. Doesn’t that hurt?”

  He looked down in surprise, then up to me, his laughter filling me with a sense of joy that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. “It hurts like hell right now, but there’s not much I can do about it.”

  I froze for a second, wondering if he was trying a passive-aggressive maneuver to make me indulge in oral sex.

  He sighed, then stood up, his hands on my arms. “It doesn’t hurt, not in the sense you mean, but I’m not going to apologize for an erection that was honestly earned. You’re a very desirable woman, Kiera. I will never force myself on you, but if you’re upset by seeing the fact that I very much want to get you into my bed, then I will apologize, and do my best to sit with a pillow on my lap. Or a blanket. Or Peter, although the way he bounces, that might not be the most comfortable of erection shields.”

  “I’m not offended. If I was someone else, I’d be on you like honey on a stick, but I have some issues with trust.”

  “I understand,” he said, and I had an odd feeling he did. Perhaps it was because he’d made mistakes in his past, too.

  I started to leave, biting my lip when I thought of the room that waited for me. One filled with nightmares and sorrow, a lonely, cold, empty room. What I wanted to ask was insane. I should never in a million years consider it. And yet, I had put myself in his hands, and he stopped without a word of complaint when he obviously wanted more from me. He had respected those boundaries. “Would you mind if I slept in here? In the other bed? I ... I don’t get the nightmares when someone is around. I was in a few different women’s shelters, and I never had them there.”

  He peeled back the blankets on the other bed and gestured to it before turning back to his own, and dropping his pants. “Be my guest, but be warned, my brother tells me I snore. It’s the basest lie, of course, but just in case you hear a noise that in anyone else might be considered a snore, you needn’t be worried.”

  I giggled, checked on Peter, then climbed into the bed fully clothed. He opened his mouth like he was going to comment on that, then shook his head and got into his own bed.

  It was nice, I decided a half hour later. Peter occasionally made little snorts in his sleep, rustling as he moved. Theo was silent in his bed, and at one point, when I looked over, I could see him lying on his back, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. I wondered what he was thinking, decided that was not a suitable thing for contemplation, and rolled over.

  An hour later, I was still awake, my body humming like electricity was flowing through it, feeling itchy and restless and unhappy. Theo must have fallen asleep, because he was completely quiet. It looked like he was sleeping on his belly. I turned again, punching my pillow before flipping it over to a cool side.

  No, I told my inner voice. No, we are not going to do that. It was bad enough that we asked to be here.

  My inner voice pointed out yet again Swami Betelbaum’s dictates on the importance of being honest with oneself.

  Fine, I snarled, and got out of bed, whispering, “Theo? Are you awake?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m ... I feel ... oh, hell. Can I sleep with you?”

  I could feel the surprise in the silence that followed. “I’d be delighted,” he said finally, his voice sounding choked. He rolled over onto his side, so he was facing me.

  “Thank you,” I said, and, grabbing my pillow and the sheet from my bed, settled myself on top of his blankets, wrapping myself in my sheet, carefully nudging one of hi
s pillows aside to make room for mine. I turned my back to him, and wriggled backward until I could feel the pressure of his body. Then I sighed in relief, pulled the sheet up under my chin so that I was more or less burritoed into it, and promptly fell asleep.

  SIX

  Theo was in hell. Not only did Kiera dash his hopes when her idea of sleeping with him turned out to be just that, but at some point during the night, she must have extricated herself from the cocoon of sheet that she’d used to keep her luscious body from its rightful place next to him, and was now splayed across his chest, one of her legs pressed between his. Her mouth was open a little, her breath warm on his collarbone.

  He wanted badly to strip off the leggings and T-shirt she wore, so that he could stroke all that glorious flesh that he knew lurked beneath, but he’d made a solemn promise to himself that he would not do anything to frighten her. It had almost killed him when she insisted on torturing him with shy little kisses, but it was a hundred times worse when she allowed him to take control.

  The fire she stirred in him was almost enough to scorch the sheets. He slid a hand down her back, and under her T-shirt, his mind moaning with the feeling of her warm, satiny flesh.

  “Mmrf?” she murmured into his collarbone, then stiffened. His hand stilled, but he left it where it lay on her bare back, waiting to see how she would react to their intimate position. She lifted her head and squinted at him through the curtain of dark hair. “Theo?”

  “Right here.”

  She looked down at his chest, and he felt her breath catch. She pushed back a bit, but it wasn’t to peel herself off him as he thought she would. Instead, she spread her fingers across a pectoral. “So very warm. I want to ... I think I want ...”

  She bit her lip, clearly too shy to put into words just what it was that she wanted.

  “You may touch whatever you want to touch,” he told her, hardly daring to breathe lest he scare off his little gazelle. “With your hands, mouth, or any other body part.”

  She blinked at him, her blue-green eyes so serious. He liked them much better when she was laughing, or giggling while he teased her. “Oh. Well. Am I crushing you?”