Delicious (28 page)

Suddenly, he pulled away and traced more champagne on her lips. Now they tingled and trembled, and she couldn’t wait to feel his mouth over hers again. Luc didn’t disappoint, tasting her, drinking from her as if he’d never get enough.

Alyssa wondered if she ever would.

“I need more of you,” he demanded, peeling off her suit coat and attacking the buttons of her blouse. “Now.”

His gaze remained riveted on her, a searing promise of ecstasy to come, a silent declaration of his intent to satisfy her until she was boneless and whimpering. Already she trembled. Desire throbbed between her legs. Blood scalded her veins. She couldn’t wait to feel him skin to skin, surging deep inside her until she knew nothing but the pounding pulse of desire and the wild surge of climax overtaking her body and inhibitions.

Next, he tore into her bra, yanked away her skirt, and shredded her thong with his hands. Now completely naked and at the mercy of a man who appeared to have none, Alyssa throbbed.

“Undress,” she rasped, reaching for his coat.

He shook off her request, then reached for a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Open.”

Arguing with that forceful command seemed impossible. As soon as her lips parted, he placed the sweet fruit on her tongue. Flavor burst across her senses, and she bit into its succulence, melting most of the chocolate on her tongue. Sipping champagne, Luc watched, his gaze smoldering.

The second she swallowed, he was all over her again, his mouth forcing hers open under the crush of his. The chocolate met the bubbly wine on her tongue. The flavors entwined to create something irresistible. Pressing closer, she ate at his mouth, needing more, and he gave, delving into her endlessly. She gasped.

Moments later, he was gone, reaching for the nearby table. “Mousse?”

Panting, unable to answer, Alyssa stared as Luc picked up a cup and spooned a bite into her mouth.

Oh, dear God!
That man could create the most amazing flavors. She closed her eyes and moaned. When she opened them, he was swallowing another sip of champagne—and swooping down for another kiss.

This time, she anticipated the flavors, the rich, lingering taste, now creamy and smooth and addicting. Every time his tongue brushed hers, the flavor of the bubbly wine added the perfect tang to the sweet decadence of the dessert.

She grabbed his shoulders to rid him of the jacket and pull him closer. He edged away, then grabbed the mousse once more.

He tossed the spoon aside, and it landed with a clatter on the table. Alyssa flinched, but the sound didn’t register with him. He simply shoved two fingers into the smooth confection and scooped some out.

“Wha-what are you doing?”

Dizzy, overwhelmed, she could barely catch a breath. He’d kissed her, stripped her bare, and already she was in danger of losing her head completely. And she didn’t care. Now she just needed more of this volatile ride to pleasure only he could deliver.

Luc spread her out on the sofa, then smeared the mousse between her swollen folds. She gasped at the icy-hot sensation of the dessert and warm skin against her and struggled to keep her head.

He was having none of that. He grabbed the bottle of champagne and tipped it above her. Cold, bubbly liquid sloshed over her breasts and abdomen, pooled in her navel . . . drizzled into her pussy with a sensation that made her gasp.

Wearing a devilish smile, Luc stared at her wet body and chocolate-covered clit. “Having dessert.”

H
IS own personal slice of heaven. Luc speared her pussy with his tongue, chocolate, champagne, and Alyssa’s natural taste a flavor that instantly hooked him. Kneeling beside the couch, he lunged for her again, spreading her thighs wider with insistent hands and wedging his shoulders in between.

As he tasted her again, Alyssa’s hips bucked as her body thrashed. She cried out, and the sounds drove him up, higher. Closer to that place where he’d lose control.

Tonight, he didn’t care.

Another tempting taste of her, another laving of her clit. She gasped and fisted her hands in his hair. The sting on his scalp aroused the hell out of him.

He grabbed the mousse from the table beside him and spooned more right onto the hot flesh of her folds with his fingers, then poured more of the champagne right over that distended bundle of nerves. Her breath caught, a jagged inhalation that thrilled him. Then he swooped in, taking her hard bud in his mouth and sucking, and shoved two fingers inside her weeping entrance. She screamed.

Her body clamped down on his fingers, hungry, demanding, and he couldn’t stop imagining exactly how she’d feel on his cock when he got inside her. Everything about this woman, his
wife
, made him feel hedonistic and rapacious. Fuck apologizing for it anymore. She incited him like no other, and it wasn’t something he could—or wanted to—stop.

As her orgasm high subsided, he smeared a bit more of the mousse on his fingers, then spread it over her nipple. As he laved it, then sucked deep, she groaned.

“Luc! Oh . . .” She panted, her face and chest flushed and glowing.

Damn, she looked beautiful. As he tore off his clothes and threw them haphazardly over the back of the sofa, he glanced at her left hand, at the sparkling diamond on her finger. She was
his
.

Easing his way up her body, Luc reached out for the champagne flute and tipped it over, above the valley between her breasts. She gasped as he covered her chest with his. The liquid heated between their bodies as they slid sensuously against each other. He grabbed a strawberry and placed it against her lips.

“Eat this,” his low voice commanded.

Alyssa stared with wide blue eyes, sparkling with excitement and curiosity, and he felt himself fall for her a bit more. She parted her lush lips, her tongue peeking out to wet them, before she accepted his offering. Luc set the berry in her mouth, chocolate first. As she bit down, she moaned. Her eyes slid shut. His cock jumped as impatience and need thrummed in his blood. He was dying to get inside her.

As she chewed the chocolaty fruit, he tossed back the last of the champagne. The moment she swallowed, he consumed her mouth in a greedy kiss, tasting the sharp swirl of flavors, savoring the way she opened to him, accepted him deep inside her mouth. He wanted to be deeper.

Clutching her hips in his hands, he probed her slick, creamy folds with his cock, then began to push his way in, straight to the haven he’d missed and yearned for over the past seven weeks.

Tight. So damn tight. He always had to fight his way in, and tonight was no exception. One shallow thrust, another, a third . . . Each time he eased in a bit farther, her snug walls created a sinful friction that had him hissing in a breath. Teeth-gritting patience and destructive pleasure—both nearly undid him.

Finally, he sheathed himself completely inside her. With an eager moan, Alyssa rose up to meet both his tongue and his cock. What was it about her? So lush, so perfect, so . . . whatever that he could never get enough?

Under him, her body grew taut. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and her legs rose around his hips. She caught his rhythm, and she writhed beneath his increasingly harsh thrusts.

Her breath, hot on his neck, feathered over sensitive skin. An icy-hot shiver nearly undid him. Sex with Alyssa was always more dazzling, more mind-blowing, than anything he’d ever experienced. But tonight, knowing she was his in every way, was killing his control.

“Yes,” she murmured. “God, yes . . . Luc!”

“Fuck, you feel so good, sugar. You’re shaking.”

“I’m close . . .”

A fact he couldn’t miss. She kept tightening around him with every second, and he had to anchor his hands on her hips to push his way in. Every thrust became a rich slide into ecstasy that had him panting, growling, needing to empty himself inside her.

“Come for me,” he demanded. “Now!”

She tensed even more, gasped. Then the moment was on her, and her eyes flew open. As their stares met, the naked connection smacked him, grabbing him by the cock, tugging at something in his chest. He didn’t stand a chance in hell of resisting her.

Pleasure seized his whole body as the climax boiled inside him, then burst wide. He shouted, shuddered, buried himself deep. The sensation was so perfect Luc never wanted to leave.

If he had anything to say about it, he never would.

They were married now. Officially, in every way. Time to put the baby’s parentage aside and make this work. At the least, he wanted to earn her trust, be her best friend, the man she turned to for anything.

But deep down, Luc knew he was fooling himself. He wanted much more. Everything she had to give. He wouldn’t rest until she was his completely.

MOONLIGHT streamed through the windows as Alyssa stretched, her body aching in a million delicious places. She marveled at how treasured and sated she felt. Every night she spent with Luc ended in mind-blowing passion, but this one . . . She couldn’t help but sigh in bliss.

After all but ravaging her on the couch, she’d nearly fallen asleep. Her untimely insomnia the night before, coupled with stress and pregnancy, had shut her body down. He’d said nothing about the interruption to the wedding night he’d so carefully planned. Instead, Luc had carried her to the cottage’s huge claw-foot tub and set her in hot water to soak. With infinite care, he washed her body, her hair—even when she’d insisted she could perform the task herself.

She may as well not have wasted her breath.

Afterward, he’d combed her hair, even dried it, then urged her onto the most inviting bed she’d ever seen, firm yet plush, with pillows and fluffy quilts built for comfort. He’d slid her between soft sheets, naked as the day she was born, then followed her down, kissing her lips gently. Alyssa had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Now, a few hours later, she’d awakened, comforted by Luc’s deep, even breathing beside her. But then she smelled him. Tempted, she curled up against his body heat and tentatively smoothed her palm down the hard chest, traced his ribbed abdomen, guided soft fingertips over his growing erection.

Flashes of his passion and care bombarded her—the romantic wedding night she’d never expected, the feel of him filling her mouth and body at once, his soothing touch as he’d bathed her from head to toe.

Tears flooded her eyes, closed her throat. And here she thought she couldn’t love him more, but tonight his care had expanded her feelings until they nearly drowned her. Alyssa didn’t kid herself. Even if this marriage ended badly, Luc would always be in her heart.

From the moment she’d met him, she’d been fascinated. He had intelligence, coupled with a kindness she rarely saw in her customers. When she and Luc had first met, he’d wanted nothing to do with her. He hadn’t been rude or disrespectful, but merely stayed away.

Then came the unexpected Sunday morning last summer he’d called her with an outrageous proposition: the favor of fucking him and Deke in exchange for the culinary favor of her choice. He’d known of her restaurant opening soon, just as he’d known she wouldn’t be foolish enough to turn him down. Accepting had felt a bit like prostituting herself, but given her past and how much credibility he’d lend to her opening, being squeamish seemed silly.

That wild evening, Deke had departed without touching her—and Luc had been insatiable. Incredible. But he’d never treated her like a whore. In fact, he’d acted as if he’d never been so enthralled with sex, never wanted a woman so much. God knew she’d never burned for any man the way she had for Luc. The next morning, she’d awakened aching for him again . . . only to find the bed empty.

Deep in her heart, she’d hoped that their astounding night might lead to something more. So she’d be lying if she said his desertion hadn’t hurt. She’d also be lying if she said it was unexpected.

For weeks afterward, she’d tried to think of something to lure him back, hoping that the memories of their amazing sex would give her a foundation to build on. But she’d seen him again only when she’d forced him to live up to his obligation. The fact he’d resisted her advances and had a new girlfriend had been an ax to her heart . . . but instead of giving up on Luc, she’d seduced him—only to realize he assumed she was fucking Tyler and thought her little more than a whore.

So despite Luc’s “explanation,” his insistence on this marriage still didn’t make sense. She was the same person with the same occupation and the same bouncer Luc believed was her lover. The only difference? She was pregnant. Yes, he’d claimed to miss her in the weeks they’d been apart . . . but enough to marry her?

And now she was in deeper. Last night, with his passion and tenderness, he’d shattered her. No other way to describe it. He’d begun tearing away the walls she never let anyone behind, destroying her defenses. Whether he’d meant to or not, he’d made her irrevocably his. Alyssa hoped that, maybe, at least in part, Luc was hers, too.