A Feast of You (3 page)

“Harder,” I cried, but he always knew what I wanted, and he pulled away, teasing my hard point and working it with his tongue. I was wet now, the dampness making my thighs sleek, and when he sucked my nipple into his mouth again, I almost lost it right then and there.

“Don’t you dare,” he commanded, and I whimpered.

I wanted to demand that he fuck me, but no one demanded anything of William. He’d only draw out the torture if I got too bossy, so I focused on holding back my orgasm and letting it build.

“Good girl,” he said, his mouth still on my breast, one hand on my butt and one wrapped around my back. “Your tits look amazing in this, but I’m tempted to...” He trailed off then bared his teeth. Taking the delicate lace in his mouth he ripped it and exposed my nipple to the air. He licked it then blew, and I shivered.

“You realize this lingerie was very expensive,” I said as he ripped the lace above my other nipple.

“I’m improving it.” He kissed me again, his tongue sliding between my lips as his fingers fondled me. The heat building between my legs made me rock harder against him. Mercifully, his hand slipped down, and I felt his warm fingers slide between my bare folds. “You’re so wet, Catherine,” he murmured against my mouth. “So sleek and wet.” One finger slid slowly into me, and my walls clenched around him.

“Oh please,” I murmured breathlessly. If anyone had asked me if I was the sort to beg, I would have said never in a million years. But William made me beg, and he made me like it.

“Not yet, beautiful girl, I want to taste you.”

The next thing I knew I was off my feet and being carried across the room. He settled me on the edge of the couch, pushing my legs open and kneeling between them. He bent and I braced for the feel of his mouth. When it didn’t come, I looked down at him. He was watching me, a mischievous look in his eyes. “William,” I said, my tone pleading.

“Your hands, Catherine.”

I realized I had my hard nipples between my fingers, stimulating them while I waited for him to give me release.

“Put them down.” His eyes still sparkled as he spoke softly and directly in that dark, uncompromising voice that made me shiver from head to toe. “If you move them, I’ll have to do something about it. Keep them at your side.”

I lowered my hands and gripped the suede material of the couch on either side of me. Obedience was worth everything it cost me because of the dark pleasure it always brought. I craved that kind of pleasure more and more now.

His mouth descended on me, his tongue scraping over my sensitive bead. I bucked, arching my hips to give him better access. His tongue dipped inside me and the heat was heavenly. God, I loved this.

“You are my favorite delicacy,” William whispered, pressing his cheek to my inner thigh. His lips were glistening with my moisture and I wanted to reach down and run my fingers through his thick, dark curls, but I kept my hands where he’d ordered them to stay. “I’ll never get enough of you,” he muttered, then his tongue was inside me again, sliding out to stroke my swollen clit and then back in. My hips moved with William’s rhythm as his eager tongue licked me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. But I wouldn’t come. Not until he permitted it. My legs were shaking, and I was making small whimpering sounds. Finally, his tongue probed deep and, with his teeth scraping lightly against me, he said, “Come.”

I jerked and let go, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me. At some point I was aware that William had moved away. I looked up, noting he was still fully dressed. He opened his expensive trousers and pulled out his hard cock. It was beautiful. Long and thick, it jutted out magnificently. A pearl of semen already crowned the tip, and my hips arched toward him in welcome.

He entered me hard and fast, and on the heels of my first orgasm, I felt myself building toward another, even more powerful. He rocked into me again and I put arms around his neck. He growled, “Naughty girl.” He captured my hands and, clasping my wrists, he raised them over my head, pinning me to the couch as he fucked me and I deliciously surrendered.

He thrust savagely at first, but then he slowed, his eyes on mine as he moved slowly and deliberately. His hips rolled, pressing and stroking those places deep inside that made my toes curl. I mewled like a kitten as his cock swelled. He was close, but he didn’t speed up and he didn’t lose eye contact. His eyes were so impossibly dark as they searched mine. I saw love there and tenderness and need. I hoped I reflected it back.

“Now,” he murmured, kissing me gently. “Come with me.”

He thrust again, and I came apart.

* * *

I
wore William’s shirt and he wore nothing but his trousers while we ate key lime pie. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received,” he said, forking up another mouthful of Beckett’s sweet creation. I had to admit, Beckett had outdone himself. William had lied about already eating. He’d had a four-course dinner delivered from one of his favorite French restaurants and had paired it with a bottle of delicious
pouilly-fuisse
, which was crisp and refreshing.

William had gone on about the wine, of course. I’d loved watching his eyes light up as he spoke passionately about Chardonnay grapes and wanting to try producing a similar kind of white at WML Vineyards and aging it in real oak casks, which I learned was unusual these days. I’d had one slice of Beckett’s decadent pie and couldn’t eat another bite. William, on the other hand, was on his second piece of pie. He licked a bit of meringue off his lips, and I started thinking about how that cream would taste on his cock.

“Before your thoughts turn in that, much appreciated, direction,” he said, reading me perfectly, as always, “I have a present for you.”

“You already gave me your gift. Dinner was delicious. And before dinner, well, that was...” my voice dropped off as I coyly looked up at him through my lashes.

He chuckled. “Another gift then.” He reached for his coat and pulled a business envelope from the inside pocket.

“William! We said no gifts.”

He handed me the envelope. “
You
said no gifts. And need I remind you, you didn’t even adhere to your own stipulation.” He gestured to the half-eaten pie. “Not that I mind.” He nodded to the envelope. “Open it.”

With a little frisson of excitement, I tore the envelope open and unfolded the paper. The first thing I saw was an aerial shot of a tropical island. I looked at William, then back at the photo. It couldn’t be. “Have you been talking to Beckett?” I asked.

“No. Why?”

I leafed through the pages, which described the private Caribbean island and all of its amenities. “Oh my God. You really did get me an island.”

“I thought you’d be more surprised.”

I shook my head. “I’m in shock. An island, William?”

“Only through the weekend,” he clarified, as if that made it a lesser gift. “We can leave whenever we want—tonight, tomorrow morning.”

“To our own island?”

He nodded. “Just you and me. Thousands of miles away from here, where it’s warm and sunny. The whole weekend all to ourselves, days and days where I can keep you chained to my bed and have my wicked way with you.”

I laughed. “That sounds delicious.”

He raised his brows. “It will be. But let’s bring the pie just in case.”

God, I loved this man.

How could I not?

“I
don’t think Laird even missed me,” I said after giving my dog another hug. Laird barely noticed. He was too busy playing with his favorite Kong toy. William closed the door to his massive closet and glanced over.

“George said Asa and Anthony took turns taking him on walks and hanging with him. He wasn’t lonely.”

“I’m glad.” I gave Laird a last pat, which he ignored, and then I all but melted when William put his hands on my shoulders and massaged. I sighed. “I can’t possibly have any tension left in my muscles. Not after four days on Tropos.”

“Good,” William said, kissing my neck. Delicious shivers ran through me as his stubble scraped lightly against my tender skin. He moved away and carried his toiletry bag to the bathroom. I watched his easy, familiar walk and appreciated how his faded jeans rested so dangerously low on his hips. He was effortlessly sexy and I never tired of watching him. I’d gotten used to him strutting around naked on the island, and now I missed seeing his defined, sinewy muscles flex under his gorgeously tanned skin.

We’d had the entire island to ourselves, and our getaway had been the perfect Valentine’s Day present. Like William, I’d spent pretty much the entire vacation naked. We’d flown to a British Virgin island on one of William’s private jets, then we were helicoptered to nearby Tropos. The tiny island was owned by some titled English business tycoon and it was incredibly luxurious—and incredibly private. It could accommodate up to thirty guests, but it had been just me and William—and the very discrete staff—on the island during our stay. We hadn’t had to worry about anyone seeing us sunbathing in the nude or making out in the warm Caribbean waters.

Had anyone been watching us, they would have gotten an eyeful, as we’d done a lot more than just make out. I’d always known William had a voracious sexual appetite, but I hadn’t realized exactly just how voracious. I’d lost count of the number of times we’d had sex, and I don’t think there was a place on the island or in the opulent Balinese-style house we hadn’t made use of—the beach, the pool, the Jacuzzi, a chaise, the shower, a hammock, the garden, the kitchen. It had been decadent and glorious. We’d spent long afternoons out of the heat of the day in a huge, teak, four-poster bed draped with a gauzy white canopy and curtains. The house had open galleries on every side so the tropical breeze and gentle lapping of the surf had provided the soundtrack, and a dazzling white beach and the cerulean blue ocean were literally just steps away. I’d seen a lot of beaches in my life, but nothing as beautiful as that.

Except maybe William.

He’d been so relaxed and open on Tropos. It wasn’t just the sex. That would never be a problem between us. It was the hours we’d spent talking and laughing together that had felt so right. We’d both forgotten all of our problems back in Chicago and we’d connected in a way we hadn’t before.

I hadn’t had any of the doubts I’d had on our Napa trip and I’d tried hard not to overthink things and to just feel. And what I’d felt was love. I’d
felt
loved by William, cherished and adored even. And I loved William just as deeply as I’d loved Jace, maybe even more so. Admitting that didn’t feel like any kind of betrayal now. Jace was dead and I deserved to find happiness again. And I was really lucky because I had.

I stood and pulled my hair out of its ponytail then fished around in my suitcases for something warm to wear to bed. Even with the heated floors, the master suite seemed cold after four days in the Caribbean. I could hear William in the bathroom, putting his things away, turning on the water to brush his teeth, and it all sounded so familiar. I remembered getting ready for bed like this with Jace and that same feeling of comfortable companionship came over me. But my relationship with William was very different from my marriage. It was more mature, more grounded. I’d been just out of college when Jace and I had married, but I’d grown up a lot since he’d died and I wanted different things now.

As if he’d heard me thinking about him, I glanced up and found William leaning on the bathroom’s doorframe, watching me. “It’s been hard for you,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Nothing had been difficult on Tropos. Just the opposite, in fact.

He moved into the room. “The break-in at your condo, living here, having a bodyguard follow you everywhere you go.”

“Oh, that.” It had been nice to forget all of that for a few days, and it would be nice to forget it permanently. Now that we were back in Chicago, it struck me again how quickly my life had changed since William and I met. Most of those changes had been good, but not all.

He gestured toward my two suitcases, which I’d propped open at the foot of the bed. “You haven’t even really unpacked. I cleared space in the closet for you, but you aren’t using it.”

“I haven’t had time.”

William raised a brow. Yeah. We both knew that wasn’t true. I sighed. “I don’t know. It feels strange, I guess. That’s your closet.”

“Catherine—”

I held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. I should treat this like my home. I’m welcome here. All that.”

“If you know it, why don’t you do it?”

I shrugged. “Because this isn’t my place. It’s yours, and I guess I like the reminder that I’ll be going back to my own condo soon.” Before he could interrupt or argue, I hurried to finish. “Everything has happened so fast. And I was only here for a week after the break-in and then we went to Tropos. I thought everything would be cleared up in a few days, and I’d be back home by now.”

William crossed to me and took me in his arms. It always felt like coming home when he held me, which was probably one of the reasons I tended to forget how weird it was that we were living together already.

“Like I said, I know it’s been hard for you.” His deep voice vibrated through me since he was holding me close against his sculpted chest. “I spoke with the police before we left for the Caribbean and they were still investigating the incident at your condo. George is putting everything he has into finding who sent those pictures. I’ll get another update first thing in the morning.”

I smiled up at him. “Thanks. Do you think my description of the guy I saw in my building helped at all?” The morning of the break-in, I’d let in a repairman who said he was there to fix a leaky pipe. But it had turned out there was no leaky pipe and he definitely wasn’t a plumber. That was the only solid lead we had.

“Every little bit helps. Whoever is behind this thinks he can go around terrorizing the people I love.” He squeezed me. “I’m not going to let that go unpunished. We’ll find him.”

“I know.”

“In the meantime, you’re safe here. With me.” He squeezed me tighter.

I looked up at him. “And I love being here with you. I mean, what’s not to love?”