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Authors: Sorcha Grace

Tags: #sex, #a taste of you, #a sip of you, #erotic romance, #sexy fiction, #love, #contemporary romance, #billionaire

A Feast of You (21 page)

BOOK: A Feast of You
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“Stay.”

His grip hadn’t been rough, just unexpected. I yanked my arm away. “Stop it! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

And finally I saw it, the flash of pleading in his eyes, the snatch of vulnerability he’d been trying so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I’m being an asshole, and you don’t deserve this, any of this.” The music swelled to a crescendo around us as I considered his words, his look. Finally, I swallowed and settled back down next to him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again. “Just tell me. Maybe I can help.” I had no idea if I could do anything to help, but I had to offer. I had to do something to take that pain out of his eyes.

William took another deep drink from his glass then set it on the table. I hoped it would stay there. “I got a phone call today. From France.”

Oh shit
. The plane wreckage they’d found in Alaska had been sent to France to be analyzed and he’d been waiting to hear the results for the past five weeks. This couldn’t be good.

“It’s not their plane,” he said flatly.

It all made sense now: the bourbon, the dark mood. He’d been so convinced the wreckage was from his parents’ plane and so hopeful he’d finally have closure. But, it wasn’t, which meant he was back to square one on...everything.

“The paint’s not right,” he was saying. “The color is similar, but the pigments don’t match the model.”

I nodded. He spoke so matter-of-factly. There was no emotion in his voice, though I knew he must be devastated.

“The paint found on the pieces wasn’t even used in production for another nine years. Isn’t that just my fucking luck? It’s not their plane. It’s just...not.”

“Oh, William.” I moved closer, still not touching him, but trying to lend some comfort by my presence. “I’m so, so sorry. I know how much you wanted this. I know how much you want to know what happened.”

William lowered his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead so I couldn’t see his eyes. “I’ve spent eighteen years wanting this more than anything else. This time I thought—” His voice broke. “I really thought this was going to be it. I thought I’d finally be able to—” His voice became garbled, too choked with emotion.

I waited for him to regain control. Finally, he raked a hand through his hair again. “I know...I know they’re dead. I’ve known that for years. But I want to
know
.” He looked up, his eyes brimming with grief. “I want to know what happened to them. I’ve always thought if I knew...if I knew the facts, they would end...this.”

I could feel the pain radiating from him, and I wanted to take it all away. But there was nothing I could do, nothing. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” It seemed like such a lame thing to say, but I didn’t have anything else. I felt entirely helpless.

William raised his head and looked at me, his gaze intense. “There’s something else.”

I held my breath, afraid of what he might say next. What more could there be?

“That bullshit letter, the photos, the threats?”

I nodded, a lump in my throat.

“They’re not connected to this. We all thought they were—George, me, hell, even the FBI believed that the investigation of the wreckage triggered everything. But apparently that’s not the case. We were wrong.”

I was confused. What exactly was he saying? “Wrong about what?” I asked quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer, but I had to know.

“It means that there’s some sick fuck out there who wants to hurt you for no other reason than I’m William fucking Lambourne the Third.”

He buried his head in his hands again. “You’d think I would have learned my lesson.” He looked up at me, regret in his eyes. “But obviously, I haven’t. And now I’ve pulled you into this mess, into my life, and I don’t know how to stop it.” Anger and something else—fear, maybe—burned in his gaze. “I don’t fucking know how to stop it.”

His voice grew louder, probably an effect of all the bourbon running through his veins. He was losing control. He swore again then yanked me toward him, crushing his lips to mine. His kiss was hotly possessive, bruising and overwhelming. My body went molten, responding to him immediately. My head, however, protested. I pushed him back, something I’d rarely, if ever, done. “Stop. What are you doing?”

“I won’t let anyone take you from me, Catherine.” His voice was dark and almost feral. He sounded dangerous, and he scared me. He also aroused a hidden part of me, the part that responded to William no matter what, the part that always did what he wanted, the part that couldn’t say no to him.

“I won’t,” he said again. His voice was rough, as was his grip on my arm. “I don’t care what it costs me or if I have to keep you locked in this building for the next year for your own safety. I love you, damn it. I can’t lose you. I
won’t
lose you.”

Sixteen

W
illiam’s words resonated through me like a low hum that traveled straight to my core. I’d never seen him like this, never seen him so primal and so uninhibited about his feelings. I’d always known he was possessive, but he’d never laid it out like this before.

I won’t lose you
.

He pulled me into his lap, and I immediately felt his thick erection pushing against me. He was aroused and so was I. A part of me was intoxicated by his swell of possessiveness, bourbon or no bourbon.

There were pieces of William’s sexuality still untapped, dark alleys I hadn’t yet explored, and I had the feeling we’d just turned into one now. Grief and pain and fear were powerful aphrodisiacs. I understood that better than anyone.

William needed me. And I needed him. I wasn’t going to abandon him this time. I was going to be the girlfriend I should have been in Napa. The girlfriend who gave her man what he needed, when he needed it most.

I looked up at him through lowered lashes. “What do you want from me, William?” I kept my voice low and careful. I knew exactly what I was offering him: me. If he wanted me, he could have me—anyway he wanted—as an outlet for his angst, for his pain, for his pleasure.

That night by the pool at Casa di Rosabela came back to me again. I’d been swimming laps, wearing a red bikini. I’d been so angry with William for leaving me alone, but when I’d emerged from the water, the pain in his gaze had washed all that away. I’d fucked him on the deck chair, taking his body and, with it, all of him. At the same time, I’d showed him how I’d felt—my anger and hurt, my love for him—with my body. I would do the same tonight.

I gasped when William gripped my upper arms tightly. His breathing was heavy now and as my eyes widened I saw the color of his—molten grey.

“Go to the master suite and get undressed.” His voice was soft but commanding, and I shivered with anticipation. “I want you naked, in the bed, waiting for me. Go. Now.” He released me, and his hot gaze never left my face.

I stumbled to my feet, struggling to free myself from the pull of desire between us. This was a desire unlike any I’d ever experienced, one that crackled and sparked with dark temptation.

I would submit to him. There was no question of it. I wasn’t certain I could have resisted if I’d wanted. I was too turned on, too trapped in this web of wanting. And when my fear at the raw sensuality on his face rippled, I pushed it down and reminded myself this was what William needed. I loved him. I would be there for him. I would give him what he needed, and maybe it would be just what I needed too. Maybe this was what we’d been building to all these weeks, what William had slowly been pushing me toward: a total and complete surrender.

My knees wobbled, but I managed to walk toward the stairs. I could feel William’s impatience, and I yanked my shirt over my head and dropped it on the first step. Still peeling off my clothes piece by piece, I kept walking, and I didn’t look back.

* * *

I
lay on the bed, naked, when William pushed the door open. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze was predatory, animalistic as he shrugged out of his shirt. He stood beside the bed and said, “On your knees. Here.” He pointed to the floor in front of him. I rose, but not fast enough, because William barked, “Now. On your knees.”

My breathing hitched and a delicious warmth began smoldering in my lower belly. I fell to my knees before him and watched as he slid the zipper of his trousers down and kicked them off. His thick hardness was clearly outlined in his black boxer briefs. My mouth went instantly dry, and I licked my lips. William chuckled low. “That’s right. Get your mouth ready for me.”

He lowered the shorts, revealing his enormous erection. I reached for him, but William stepped away. “Hands behind your back.”

I looked up at him, confused.

“Hands behind your back,” he repeated softly. “And hold them there. No matter what. Don’t make me bind you, Catherine. I don’t trust myself tonight.”

I pulled my shaking hands behind my back and locked my fingers together.

William nodded. “That’s right. That’s the image I want. Open for me.” He stroked his shaft and moved to position himself in my mouth. I opened for him, watching his eyes darken to almost black as his engorged cock slid slowly past my lips.

“God, you feel so good,” he said, rolling his head back as he entered me. He slid out then in again. “Lick me,” he demanded. “Get me nice and slick.”

I licked him, sucked him, all the while keeping my hands behind me. I let him control my movements, control my mouth, and there was something heady and erotic about that. Finally, he looked down at me, his eyes so hooded I couldn’t read them. “Do you think you can take me?” He braced his legs apart and put his hands in my hair. “All of me?”

I nodded, unable to speak with my mouth full of his hot flesh.

“Good.” He pushed himself in deeper and deeper until he hit the back of my throat and I gagged, and then he pulled out. His cock was glistening and throbbing. I clutched my fingers tightly as he entered my mouth again, moving faster now, until my eyes started to water. Then his hands were in my hair, holding my head as he fucked my mouth deeper and deeper. My face was wet with the mixture of my tears and my spit, but I didn’t try to move away.

“That’s it, Catherine.” His voice was hoarse and strained as though he was barely holding on to his control. “Let me fuck that sexy mouth of yours.”

He seemed to swell as he talked, telling me how good I felt around him, how much he needed me. I didn’t know how much more I could take, and then he thrust hard, making me lose my breath and gag.

Suddenly he stopped and withdrew.

I sat back on my heels, my heart racing as I bowed my head and waited for William to tell me what to do next. The tears I’d been holding back trickled from behind my eyes, but I willed myself not to breakdown, not to say “rosé” and bring everything to a screeching halt.

“Catherine, look at me.” William’s voice was barely a whisper.

I looked up at him and watched as his face, which had been so fierce and so controlled just moments ago, completely crumbled.

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

My tears started falling in earnest then, and before I could say anything, he was bending down and pulling me off of my knees and into his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said over and over again as he pulled me tightly to him, stroking me, nuzzling me, kissing me. “Oh fuck, I love you. I love you. I don’t know why the fuck I did that. Please, tell me I didn’t hurt you. Are you okay, baby? Please, tell me that I didn’t hurt you.” His voice was raw and desperate, which just made me cry harder.

“I’m okay,” I managed to say.

“Thank Christ,” William replied. “Wrap yourself around me, baby.”

I put my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. He was standing and we stayed like that for a while, me pretzeled around him and both of us trembling.

Finally, I looked up at him through my wet lashes. I was still shaking and my throat felt raw and used, my arms ached, and my knees burned from the hard wood of the floor. And despite it all, I still wanted him. I still wanted more.

I could feel his erection pressed against my sex and I was certain he could feel the heat radiating from my center in response.

“Let me love you, Catherine,” he begged hoarsely. “Please, let me love you.” He kissed me deeply then, using his soft lips and tongue to soothe away the hurt. He was remarkably gentle for a man who’d just had me so violently. He set me down on the bed and directed me to lay on my stomach.

“Stay down and be still, baby. Let me take care of you.”

I nodded, although it was doubtful he could see the gesture. And then there were feathery kisses and tender caresses everywhere, as William made his way down my body. He reached my lower back and covered it with hot kisses, then gave me a few playful nips on my ass. It tickled, and I laughed a little and that seemed to encourage him.

“There’s my beautiful girl.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

He widened my legs, the heat of his body warming the skin of my thighs. His hands stroked my cheeks up and down, up and down, then he gently parted the seam of my ass. His finger traced the cleft, lightly caressing my opening. I couldn’t stop myself from tensing.

“Shh,” he said. “Relax. Just try to open for me.”

I tried to relax, but when he touched me again, I jumped. He didn’t press his finger in, but instead moved it in slow, steady circles. I’d never before felt the sensations he was giving me, and I spread my legs further, giving him more access. I must have moaned because he said softly. “Hang on, love.”

I felt the scratch of stubble on my bottom then as he kissed each cheek. His finger never stopped rimming me. A thin sheen of perspiration had broken out all over me and my clit was throbbing, though he hadn’t yet touched me there. Everything inside me was tightening and pulling in and I was going to come.

And then his finger was gone.

“Oh fuck, William,” I hissed. “Please, don’t stop.”

He parted my ass cheeks and licked down.

At first I was so surprised, that I made no sound, but when he licked up again, I couldn’t stop a moan from escaping. I moaned louder when I felt his tongue right on my tight opening. His touch was light and tentative at first, and then it was gone. But he was right there. I could feel him blowing on me, then his tongue was there, moving around in a slow, moist circle, then entering me just enough to give me a taste of pleasure before withdrawing to lick me again.

BOOK: A Feast of You
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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