Authors: Lexi George Kathy Love,Angie Fox
A Demonic Bundle (6 page)
She was stunning.
He snapped at least twenty or thirty photos of her.
Finally he set the camera aside. Studying her from every angle as she slept made him long for similar peace. She looked so wonderfully tranquil and calm.
He contemplated the lumpy Goodwill couch that sagged horribly in the middle, then glanced back to his bed. Ava hadn’t moved from her curled position and she certainly didn’t take up much room on the mattress.
He could grab extra blankets, one for her and one for himself and they could both share the bed without even coming in contact with each other. And he would, of course, sleep in his clothes, he justified to himself.
He fished two blankets from his closet and carefully tucked one around her sleeping form. He switched off the light, but left the living room lamp on, in case Ava woke up and was disoriented.
Then with slow, even movements so as not to bump the bed any more than necessary, he slid around the side against the wall—not an easy feat given the lack of space in the small room. The mattress dipped as he finally eased down onto it, but Ava didn’t stir. He stretched out beside her, heedful not to touch her, both for her sake and his own.
As he lay stiffly beside her in the shadowy light, he realized he’d been very right not to allow their embrace to continue and escalate. After all, if she could fall asleep so quickly, she surely was not feeling the kind of arousal he’d been experiencing—and still was.
Sighing, he turned on his side too, following the line of her body with his own, but not touching. Parallel spooning, if there was such a thing.
He lay that way for a long time, his mind whirling with the events of the day, and eventually, though he would have thought it impossible, he fell asleep.
Chapter Seven
A
va woke slowly, blinking her eyes, trying to gain focus in the dim light. She stretched, wondering what time she’d gone to bed. There was a faint light illuminating her bedroom, but she didn’t think it was sunlight.
va woke slowly, blinking her eyes, trying to gain focus in the dim light. She stretched, wondering what time she’d gone to bed. There was a faint light illuminating her bedroom, but she didn’t think it was sunlight.
She rolled onto her back and stretched, feeling lazy and ready to doze off again. And she would if time allowed. She turned toward her nightstand to check her alarm clock, but instead of being greeted by the red glow of digital numbers, her gaze fell onto a shadowy shape close beside her.
She rose up, her heart pounding almost sickeningly in her chest. Who was that?
She looked around her room, realizing right away this wasn’t her expensive Upper East Side loft. Where the hell was she?
She started to fling her legs over the side of the bed, wanting to get out of this strange place, when her memory returned. She glanced back to the form sleeping beside her.
Charlie. An odd sense of relief weakened her tightened muscles. Odd because she didn’t really know this man, yet she was more than relieved to see him; she was happy. She remained still, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light until she could make out each feature of his handsome face.
Without thinking about why, she found herself settling down beside him again, facing him, studying those lovely features.
When awake, he was very good looking, but asleep, his features were impossibly perfect. Like a sculptor’s rendering of a young and beautiful poet or artist. A sensitive face. His dark lashes fanned out against his cheeks, almost delicate. His lips, parted slightly, were a study in masculine beauty. His jawline was cut and strong. She could make out the shadow of beard appearing on his chin and cheeks.
She’d seen more beautiful men than she could possibly count. Models with perfect bodies and flawless faces, but not one of them had appealed to her as this man did.
Her fingers, which had been curled tightly into the pillow as if to stop her from touching him, flexed and before she thought better of it, she gently caressed his jawline, the bristle of facial hair tickling her fingertips. Her body reacted instantly. She wondered how that coarse hair would feel against her lips, brushing over her soft skin.
She shifted a little closer, his scent enveloping her. A faint mixture of soap and maybe laundry detergent and something warm and musky. Her skin tingled and her nipples tightened and puckered against her lace bra.
What was it about this man? She should just sneak out now while he slept and pretend this night had never happened. But she couldn’t seem to get her wayward body to obey her mind.
Instead she continued to lie beside him, her fingers lightly exploring his features. God, she wanted him so badly. So very, very badly.
Her fingers moved from his jaw to trace his lips, fascinated by them. The fullness of the bottom lip. The slight bow of the top one. And the amazing memory of how his mouth had felt moving against hers. Soft yet strong. Greedy yet generous. She closed her eyes, replaying their kiss as her fingers played over his mouth.
When she finally opened them, she realized his eyes were open too. Her fingers stilled, but she didn’t snatch them away as she thought she would have. Instead she began to stroke him more, his lips, his chin, his jaw. Her eyes locked with his.
He didn’t stop her caresses. Instead he remained perfectly still, watching her with those lovely hazel eyes. As if caught in a trance, she rose up, leaning over him. Only then did he move, shifting over onto his back.
Ava studied him a moment longer, her fingers resting on his lips, then slowly she replaced her fingers with her mouth.
It had to be a dream. That had been Charlie’s first thought when he opened his eyes to find Ava in his bed, her whispering caress brushing over his face. He’d even hesitated to stir, sure that somehow any movement would make her vanish like a wonderful, sensual dream.
But now with her lips pressed to his, he knew she was truly there and very real. And in his slightly dazed, sleepy state, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stop what he’d somehow managed to deny himself earlier.
In fact rather than pushing her away, one of his hands came up to knot in her hair, while his other curled around her back, pulling her tighter against him.
She made a small noise low in her throat, and even that didn’t have the effect it had had earlier. No warning bell this time. The soft whimper only fueled the need bubbling up inside him like a flood rising wildly over an already weakened dam.
Then in one deft movement, he shifted so he was the one leaning over her, pressing her back into the mattress. Their kiss deepened as he took control, unable to reign in his desire for her. And her hands tangling in his hair and stroking down his shoulders and back were as frenzied as he felt.
But by some sheer miracle he did manage to pull away, searching her face for any signs of apprehension. Regret.
Nothing but desire was reflected back at him from her beautiful, hooded eyes. Her lips parted, deep pink and damp from their kiss. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers trembling.
Did she shake with need? Or was she uncertain?
He caught those delicate fingers and held them against the side of his face, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her hand.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice raspy with longing and sleep.
She nodded, even before he finished his sentence. “I want you, Charlie.”
Four words had never had a more powerful effect on him. He didn’t need to hear any more. His own need was far too strong to be halted again. The dam was broken.
He returned his mouth to hers, teasing her soft, full lips, tasting her, nipping her. Her tongue brushed against his in return, more longing welling up inside him.
A low moan vibrated in her chest as he pressed kisses down the side of her neck and across her collarbone. His mouth traveled down the valley between her breasts, hindered only by the neckline of her sweater.
He stopped long enough to reach for the hem and push it up. Ava helped him, pulling the garment off over her head and tossing it to the floor.
She fell back against his pillows, her skin looking golden and flawless against the black of her demi bra. Even in the dim light, Charlie could see the dusky pink of her nipples through the fragile lace.
He lowered his head and licked one of those rosy peaks through the material. She whimpered, writhing under him. He sucked in deeper, loving her reaction, the feel of that tight little nipple straining to be farther into his mouth. He nudged the bra out of the way to taste her bare, beaded flesh.
He continued to torture first one nipple, then the other as his hand stroked down the outside of her thighs. Her tiny skirt had ridden up in her sleep.
He sat back, needing to see what she looked like. Her skirt was nearly up to her waist and underneath she wore just a wisp of lace panties. She bent a leg, the pose so wanton and sexy, his cock hardened almost painfully against his pants. Then his gaze moved from the triangle of cloth between her thighs to her face. Despite the sensual invitation of her position, her expression was a little uncertain. Her dark eyes watched him, wide, unsure, clearly trying to read his reaction.
If he didn’t know better, he’d have said she was afraid he might reject her. Her expression was almost that of a sweet innocent making love for the first time.
“You are so lovely,” he said, realizing that he was probably saying the same thing men always told her. But the words were true.
She smiled at him, but he could see her worries didn’t seem to be assuaged. Her eyes were still huge, her smile not quite banishing the doubts there.
He struggled to find words to explain how amazing he found her, but then decided maybe the better bet was simply to show her with his body.
He gently parted her legs and situated himself between them. Then, starting at her feet, he ran his hands up over her instep, curving his fingers around her delicate ankles, up the long, shapely length of her calves. To her knees, which caused her to wiggle. He paused there, grinning evilly as he toyed with them again and again, loving her ticklishness. But her breathy giggles and squirming stopped as soon as he moved on to stroke her beautiful thighs, the skin smooth and soft under his palms. Then she began to wriggle again, but not because it tickled.
She gasped as his exploration stopped right at the top of her thighs, his thumbs very close to the wisp of lace covering the lovely mound of her sex.
“You have such beautiful legs,” he murmured, sliding his hands back down to her knees, only to slip slowly back up them again. His thumbs were even closer to her sex now. This time the tips of his thumbs fingered the lace of her panties.
She still watched him, but he noticed the anxiety that had darkened her eyes was now clouded with lust. She released a shuddering breath, then bit her bottom lip.
His cock pulsed at the sight. Did she have any idea how sexy she was? She must, but for some reason, Charlie wasn’t certain of that.
He shifted again, sliding down the mattress, and though Ava didn’t make a sound, Charlie could feel her frustration as his hands left her thighs.
But he didn’t leave her disappointed for long. With his mouth he repeated the same path his hands had taken, focusing first on her left leg—kissing the top of her foot, her calf, nibbling at her knee until she wiggled and fought back giggles. Then up her thigh, where he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over her baby soft skin. His tongue licked and teased, previewing what he intended to do between her thighs.
Again, he stopped just at the edge of her panties. The musky scent of her arousal teased his nose, making it hard for him to stay focused on his slow, erotic torture. God, he wanted to taste her. He could also feel the heat emanating from her and he wanted her hot, moist excitement on his tongue.
But he forced himself to repeat his erotic trip up her right leg, and by the time he reached the apex of her thighs this time, they were both panting with desperate need.
“Charlie—” Her pretty voice was raw with desire. Desire for him. “Please. Please.”
He smiled against her inner thigh, then very carefully, as if he was unwrapping a fragile piece of crystal, he pushed the lace aside. Her labia glistened pink and wet in the dim light. He fought back his own groan.
He ran his tongue up the center of her sex, her arousal salty and sweet and delicious.
Ava gasped, her hand knotting in his hair, her hips pivoting upward silently, urging him for more.
He obeyed, this time parting her labia with his thumbs so he could focus on her tight little clitoris. And as he flicked and swirled and sucked, Ava writhed against his mouth. Small whimpers and moans spurred him on, until she strained tight against him, her muscles taut and her breath catching as an orgasm gripped her.
But Charlie didn’t stop. He continued, his tongue pressed to the sensitive nub, but this time he also inserted a finger inside her, stunned at how hot and very, very tight she was.
Startlingly tight.
“Oh God, that feels good,” she gasped, her breath coming in shallow pants as she wriggled herself more firmly against his lips and deeper onto his finger.
Soon she was making sexy little moans that drove him dangerously close to the edge, without his even being inside her.
After her second orgasm shook her limbs and stole her breath, Charlie moved away to peel off his own clothes. Then he tugged off her panties, not even bothering with the skirt. Desperate to be inside her, he positioned himself over her.
Ava looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. He lost himself in her passionate kiss and the sensation of her hands stroking down his back, fingers digging into the skin and sinew of his shoulders.
“I want you deep inside me,” she whispered against his ear, her words breathy, desperate, almost pleading.
He growled low in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her gorgeous body.
Her hand curled around his hardened length, angling him against the opening of her sex. He groaned as she positioned him, then lifted her hips so the tip of his erection entered her tightness.
So tight. So hot. And so damned wet.
He couldn’t stop himself; he couldn’t go slowly. He had to be inside her. Deep inside her. He thrust, filling her.
She arched, crying out, her hands clamping down on his buttocks, keeping him lodged all the way inside her. She pulsed and squeezed, her internal muscles nearly making him climax right then and there.
But he gritted his teeth and managed to maintain control. How, he honestly didn’t know. She felt so damned good. And she looked so damned beautiful underneath him, her dark hair tangled wildly around her face. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes hooded. The picture of ecstasy, but again like some artless ingénue who was completely unaware of her own sex appeal. No falseness, no pretense. Just giving in to her own desire. That alone was enough to make him come.
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