Sweet Seduction Sacrifice (30 page)

I thought he'd build up to it. Maybe have another coffee in his kitchen, switch on some music in the lounge. Talk even. But his intent was clear. We were home, the doors were shut and locked behind us and he wasn't wasting anymore time.

If I thought I was nervous before, I had been mistaken. The butterflies that jostled in my belly were ferocious, the feeling; one of heightened anticipation and a hell of a lot of fear. It was stupid. I'd practically done the deed with him at Katie's before she interrupted. I'd made my decision, I wanted him like I had never wanted another man before in my life. But I was scared. I admit it. I was so scared, I think I had started to shake.

He threw my bag on the bed and then pulled me to face him. He looked down at me for a long moment, then dipped his head and brushed his lips in my hair at my temple. It was his signature move, so familiar to me already that I shouldn't have been surprised. But I had expected him to throw me on his bed, or to kiss me mindless on the lips, or even to thrust my body against the wall and lay a trail of licks and nibbles down my neck, ending up back behind my ear where he knew I'd melt and all nervousness would evaporate. But he didn't.

He kissed my temple and then murmured, "I'm running you a bath."

I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or relieved, and didn't that make me confused. Nerves versus rampant desire to get on with it. And Dominic had once again taken charge and decided what path we'd take.

He dragged me into the bathroom and deposited me on the stool. Then he began the process of running a bath and pouring in bath salts, fixing the temperature of the water, dimming the overhead lights and lighting a set of candles in the corner. They were new, all their wicks untouched by flame, and they hadn't been there before when I bathed listening to Barry White. When the hell he'd gotten those I didn't know, I could only assume his housekeeper had been and he'd left instructions for them to be put out.

This made me smile despite the nerves. It seemed sweet and unexpected and strangely calming. Like he had this all planned and I didn't need to second guess my next move, because Dominic Anscombe had already done it for me. It was liberating. And, to my astonishment, exactly what I needed. I felt the nerves disappear and I rested back on the stool and watched him fuss as steam began to build in the room.

Finally the bath was exactly as he wanted and he turned back towards me, noting my relaxed frame, so different, I was guessing, from before.

"Stand up," he instructed softly.

I smiled, amused, but did exactly as he commanded. His eyes flicked over my face and body, and his lips twitched at my obvious amusement. When they came back to my eyes he raised an eyebrow in challenge. I cocked my head and lifted one of mine back as if to say,
what's next?

"Take off your top," he said and his voice had lowered several octaves.

I complied slowly, making a show of it - something I would never have done before in my life. He leaned back against the bench, eyes lidded, body relaxed, taking in the show.

"Your jeans next," he instructed and I slowly undid the buttons at the top, then shimmied out of them, somehow managing to get them off over my heels. I stood before him in just my underwear and high heeled sandals.

"Christ," he muttered, his eyes scanning my body from head to toe. He looked like he was breathing heavily, it amused the hell out of me that I could cause that reaction, by simply following his commands to undress and standing before him in my knickers and bra. "Your bra, take your bra off," he said and he was definitely having trouble breathing. I twisted my arms around my back and unhitched my bra, then slowly lowered the flimsy bit of lace down off my shoulders, revealing my naked breasts. I let the fabric slip to the floor at my feet.

I watched him swallow, his Adam's apple dipping noticeably in his throat. He licked his lips and pulled his gaze away from my breasts, where he'd been staring transfixed for several seconds.

"Underwear," he demanded in a raspy voice. I figured, if the one-word sentences were anything to go by, he was about to lose it big time.

I slipped my thumbs inside the lacy top of my panties on either side of my hips, then torturously slid them down my legs, bending at the waist until I had them at my ankles, then I stood back up and flicked one foot out after the other. The panties swished across the tiles several feet away. I was naked before him - him still in his suit - standing in nothing more than my heels, having performed a very simple, but quite clearly effective, striptease.

He stared at my body with open approval and desire - I felt no embarrassment at his lust-filled assessment, no desperate need to cover up, I basked it in, I welcomed it even - and then suddenly he was before me, his hands running up my sides, over my breasts and his head tipped down until his mouth hovered over mine.

"Fuck the bath," he breathed against me and then slanted his lips across mine, his body crushing into my chest, our hips melded together.

I would have preferred him to be naked too, to be able to run my fingers over his flesh like he was doing to me. One of his hands up my back and cupping my neck and base of my head, controlling the angle I was at for his kiss. The other hand clasped around my breast, squeezing firmly, just this side of roughly. His tongue sweeping and delving inside my mouth, teeth biting my lip, then a soothing sweep of his wet tongue following it up.

I strained to push his jacket off his shoulders, succeeding on the second attempt, relieved as I felt it fall to the floor behind him. I started on his tie, managing to get it half undone when he rasped, "Forget the tie, undo my pants."

My hands shifted location to his belt between us, he pulled back just enough to allow me access. The belt buckle unravelled and my shaking fingers fumbled for a moment with his button and fly, then thankfully I was rewarded as his trousers slid over his hips.

"Boxers," he demanded against my neck, his teeth and tongue and lips laying a trail straight to my earlobe. I slipped my fingers inside his boxers and tugged them down as far as I could reach, feeling his hard length spring free and then press against me. I felt him shift his feet, clearly getting rid of the offending articles, and then my back was against the wall, both of his hands wrapped around my rear as he lifted me off the floor, my legs automatically going around his waist and then in one swift plunge he sunk deep inside.

I couldn't get my head around how he'd perfected the angle with so little effort and then my mind turned to melted goo as I felt how far he'd stretched me and how deeply he filled me up inside. I had never felt this completed before. He stole my breath as he stayed utterly still once he'd buried himself to the hilt.

"Move," I pleaded, desperate to feel him shifting inside me, wanting friction, needing action.

"In a minute," he breathed into my neck, still immobile, but still so very present inside.

I whimpered, he soothed a kiss down my neck, secured his arms around my back making me arch against him, his lips wrapping around a nipple as my head fell back against the wall.

And
then
he started to move.

Oh. My. God.

It felt divine. It felt fantastic. It felt out of this world good. He rocked back and forward, pulling out almost to the tip and then sinking in hard to the base. With every thrust he brought a gasp from my lips and sent a shock of heat up my spine. My hands rested on his shoulders as he continued to nibble and suck and lick my nipple. His arms wrapped around my waist, making my back arch just how he wanted me, but also pulling me back against him every time he thrust forward and buried himself deep inside.

I felt consumed by him. Marked by him. Claimed by him. Every movement he made sent delicious shivers through my body, but was utterly controlled by him alone. I was just holding on for the ride.

Seconds passed. Minutes, I don't know how long, but the closer I got to the edge, the harder he thrust inside, as though he could tell exactly where I was, how close I was, how much I needed him to take me in this fundamental, this basic, way. Wiping all other thoughts from my mind, but what he was doing to my body, making me feel, building up inside.

"Dominic," I groaned, so close, so very close.

His head came up from my breast and he watched my face.

"Give it to me, sweetheart," he husked, his eyes flashing in the candlelight of the room. "Let go."

I did, as though his request was all the permission I needed. I felt my body tighten, almost painfully, and then release on the most exquisite orgasm I had ever experienced. I half moaned, half screamed his name again and heard him mutter a single, "Christ," and then he was pounding into me harder than before, my back flat against the wall, his shirt - the one he was still wearing - rustling between us, his breath leaving in a small grunt with each thrust inside.

"Oh, Christ," he muttered on a groan, as his own body stiffened, the muscles under my fingers beneath the fabric of his shirt bunched, and he moaned long and loud as he pumped me full with his release. Then finally he relaxed against me, his head resting on my shoulder, his chest rising and falling as though he'd run a marathon.

I was equally as breathless, but so very relaxed. My whole body felt like it was floating, drifting on clouds. I had never come so hard before in my life. I didn't know you could have a full body orgasm, I had felt it in every cell of my being, my entire frame participating in the event. And now I was completely sated and entirely too elated to think clearly at all.

Dominic pulled back, letting me lower to the floor, but there was no way my legs would hold me after that. He made that cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh sound, swept me up in his arms and lowered me into the still warm water of the tub, then swiftly removed my shoes before they sank beneath the water. I lounged down until my neck was covered and watched him lazily as he stripped the remainder of his clothes in record time and then pulled me forward, so he could slip in behind my back. One leg down one side of me, the other bracketing me on the opposite side, my back to his chest.

He swept my hair over one shoulder and then kissed the other, letting his lips linger there for a good long second or two, wrapping his arms around my upper body, holding me tightly, as though he was scared I'd slip away. In that minute I had absolutely no desire to be anywhere else. I was his, so completely, so entirely, he could have suggested the most ridiculous thing and I would have complied without a second thought.

"Paradise," he murmured. "This is paradise."

I blinked back tears at his words, but couldn't bring myself to utter a sound. So instead I reached up and cupped his cheek in my palm, twisted slightly to look at him, thinking my face would say all I needed to say when my mouth, uncharacteristically, failed me. He blinked at me, then smiled,
that
smile, then dipped his head and claimed my mouth with his in a searingly hot kiss.

By the time we came for air again, I was left in no doubt at all that he was right.

We were most definitely in paradise and with a sinking heart I realised I'd do almost anything I could to remain there, because life after this would be pure hell.

I think I may have drifted off to sleep, embarrassingly, whilst wrapped in Dominic's arms. My back against his chest, warm, beautifully smelling water lapping around us. It was only his light touch, finger drifting down my arm to wrist, laying a wet trail across my skin, that woke me from my semi-sleep. I blinked a few times to bring the bathroom into focus and felt his kiss against my shoulder again, then a lick of his tongue as he lapped at the water on my skin.

"You taste divine," he whispered. "You feel divine," he added. "Better than my fantasies even."

"You've fantasised about me?" I asked, then cringed at the blatant fishing-for-a-compliment question.

"Of course," he replied, seemingly unperturbed that I had asked. "Every moment since I first laid eyes on you. The first day I was constantly hard, unable to get the vision of you in the lift out of my mind and what I would have liked to have done to you there. It was most inappropriate, I spent a good portion of my day sitting behind my desk. I think my secretary thought I was coming down with the flu."

I sucked in a breath at his words. Dominic was unafraid to say what he felt or thought. There was no embarrassment in admitting he wanted me from the start, none at all. I couldn't wrap my head around how open he was about his desires. Most people hide behind propriety. But not Dominic Anscombe. Kelly had guessed he was one of those men who saw what they liked and simply set out to take it. I'd never been confronted with this before. It scared me - because I was most definitely unable to reciprocate and wasn't sure if I could believe what my ears heard - and it warmed me up inside - because who wouldn't be flattered by his words?

"You're silent," he commented. "Have I scared you?"

"A little," I admitted.

"If it's any consolation, I have never had a reaction to a woman like this before. You're the first."

"That doesn't make it better," I pointed out. It made his sentiments more intense and less likely to be anything other than pure lust.

But, it didn't really matter. He had me for two days, he'd sate his lust and we'd part. But for two days he was also mine. Any thought of what could happen long term was moot. I pushed it from my mind.