Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) (23 page)

“Brock,” I
said.

“Come for me,
Madison.”

“But I want
more.
 
I don’t want this to end so .
. .”

“Come!” he
commanded.

And I did.
 
And when I did, I screamed out as my body
shuddered against him.
 
With a
quickness that surprised me, he scooped me into his arms and sat me on his lap,
and he continued to drive into me until he also came with a ferocious growl
that echoed in the room and turned my body into a silo of heat.

As we paused to
catch our breath, my face slumped against his shoulder—wet, slick, and
feverishly hot.

And yet this
wasn’t over.
 
Somehow, he was still
pulsing inside of me.

“Take me
again,” I said.

“You want
more?” he said with a grin.

“I want all of
you, Brock.”

When I said
that, time seemed to stand still between us.
 
The grin faded from his face and his
expression changed into something that was more intense than I’d anticipated.

“All of me,
Madison?”

I knew what he
was asking, and before I spoke, I considered my response.
 
Did I want this man?
 
All of this man?
 
With everything that implied?

“Yes,” I said
with only a moment’s hesitation.
 
“I
want all of you, Brock.
 
Everything
you have to give.”

When I said
that, he kissed me in such a way that stole my breath away.
 
We had yet to part, and with his
erection still throbbing inside me, he started to lift me up and down on his
lap with his hands gripping my ass, his mouth covering first one nipple and
then the other while I rode him.

The feelings of
ecstasy that consumed me were so strong, I didn’t know where or who I was as he
maneuvered me around the bed like a puppet, into more positions than I thought
possible.
 

The
Kama Sutra
,
indeed
, I thought at one point.
 
And I delighted in all of it.
 
I let him have his way with me—and at moments, I had my way with
him.

In my gut, I
knew that this was right.
 
I knew
that I was his and he was mine.
 
And
I also knew that as he made love to me and whispered things to me that were at
once erotic and loving, that there was no turning away from this now.
 

As fierce as he
was in bed—and as hard as he claimed me for his own—never once did
I regret trusting him.
 
He seemed to
intuitively know exactly how to position his body so I would receive the maximum
pleasure.
 
And so for the next
several hours, each of us just gave ourselves over to the other as Brock proved
true to his word—he’d told me that he was going to make me come so many
times, I’d soon forget any doubts I might have had about us.

And he was
right.

We went on so
late into the night that I saw morning break through the windows.
 
And after I came again and again and
again, there was a point when my body couldn’t take anymore.
 
Brock sensed my exhaustion.
 
He pulled out of me, turned me on my
side, came up close against my back, and wrapped his arm around my waist as he
kissed my neck while I fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

The next
morning, Brock decided to extend our stay at the Plaza for an additional night before
he went back to his apartment to rewrite his report for Alex, which he needed
to complete on Sunday since it was due on Monday morning.
 

Even though I
hadn’t packed with any of that in mind—and despite the ridiculous cost
involved in securing this room—Brock continued to brush all of that away
as if none of the expense mattered.

“We’re worth
this shot,” he said to me when we had coffee in the suite’s living room the
next morning.
 

We were both
sitting next to each other on one of the sofas and wearing the luxurious robes
the hotel provided.
 
Brock’s massive
chest was nothing short of a distraction.
 
The robe couldn’t conceal it, and it revealed itself to me in ways that
made me want to go back into the bedroom again, despite the fact that I was a
bit sore after last night’s marathon.

“And besides,
we’re young now—I’ll pay off the credit card in time.
 
It’s not a big deal.
 
As far as I’m concerned, this is the
tipping point in our relationship—at least for the interim, because I
believe in my heart that it’s only going to get better.
 
But just as you said in the Park yesterday,
it’s this moment that we’ll remember most, isn’t it?
 
If we don’t leave this hotel knowing
that we should take that next step—”

“What step is
that?” I asked.
 
I knew what that step
was for me, but I wanted to hear him say it.
 
I wanted to know if he was feeling what
I was feeling.
 

He hesitated
before he spoke, and I saw a sudden sense of vulnerability come over his face
that endeared him to me even more.
 
“A commitment between us,” he said firmly.
 
“I know that all of this has happened
quickly, but I’ve said it before.
 
I’ve never felt anything like this, Madison.
 
I don’t believe that you have
either.
 
So, I’m thinking that if
we’re on the same page, and if we’re both feeling strongly about going forward
with a relationship, then we should make that commitment to each other.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“But maybe I’m way too far ahead of
myself, and if I am, I apologize.
 
At least you now know how I’m feeling.
 
I hope it doesn’t freak you out.”

“It does, and
it doesn’t,” I said.

“And I’m right
there with you.
 
But if we don’t
give ourselves another full day to spend time with each other, to be with each
other, to get to know each other more than we do now, then we’ve only wasted
our time.
 
Because I can tell you
right now that I’ve long been over having one-night flings.
 
I want more than that.
 
I deserve more than that.
 
I want a real girlfriend in my
life—a serious relationship.
 
And I believe that you want the same thing.
 
The question is whether you want that
with me.”

When I didn’t
answer, it wasn’t because I didn’t have an answer.
 
It was because he’d just rendered me
speechless.

He sipped his
coffee.

“There’s
something special between us,” he said.
 
“And to be honest, I don’t want to put my finger on what it might be
because I already know that it’s beyond definition.
 
What’s happened didn’t happen by
chance.
 
In fact, I think your
friend Rhoda might agree with me on this.
 
I think it was destiny.”

At that moment,
he seemed almost embarrassed by admitting how he felt.
 
“Anyway, it’s not my job to persuade
you.
 
You need to make your own
decisions when it comes to us.
 
All
I’m hoping is that you’ll give us a chance.”

I knew that if
we were going to become serious with one another, we had to at least let this
play out for another day and see if last night was nothing more than a mere
show of initial fireworks, even though I already felt that it had been much
more than that.
 
At this point, we
now knew each other intimately.
 
The
experience we’d shared last night had been so powerful, it had overwhelmed me
at times—and also him.
 
Each
of us had gone so long without any kind of intimacy that neither of us knew whether
last night had only been an evening of unbridled passion.
 
So now, if only to see how we were
together after fully revealing ourselves to one another, Brock was
correct.
 
We had to spend a second
day together, as lovers and potentially something far more profound than
that.
 

With those
expectations in place, I agreed with him.
 
We’d spend today and a second night together, and then we’d see what
came of that.

“I think that
we deserve this,” I said to him.

When I said
that, Brock wasted no time with me.
 
He took me by the hand, led me into the bedroom, and made love to me
again.
 
This time, for whatever
reason, the experience was even more intense.
 

He was a fierce
and attentive lover, and as he came to know my body, he learned what truly
ignited me and used that information to send me over the edge time and
again.
 

How could I
dismiss any of this?
 
How could
he?
 
The bond that was searing
between us was so preternaturally real, it seemed at once surreal and
absolutely real.
 

As we made love
that morning and throughout the day and deep into the night, I felt a part of
me giving more and more of myself to him—layer by layer, bit by bit.
 
I did things sexually to him that I’d
never done with another man—and it came naturally to me, with no reservations.
 
But I did them with Brock because, for
whatever reason I still couldn’t come to terms with, it was easy for me to give
myself completely to him.

Was this really
happening?
 
Were we falling in
love?
 
Could only two days together
even answer that question?
 
Or was
this only the fling that Blackwell had suggested it might be?
 

As with any
budding relationship, I couldn’t be sure.
 
I’d made my share of mistakes with men in the past.
 
But with Brock ?
 
Somehow I knew this was different,
perhaps only because I was older, wiser, and more experienced when it came to
being a better judge of people.
 
I
sensed a deep connection to Brock.
 
I
felt that he was as invested in me as I was in him.

The rest of our
day and evening wasn’t just spent having sex, though we certainly enjoyed our
share of it.
 
More importantly, at
least for me, is that it also included conversations we had after we’d made
love.
 

Those
conversations turned out to be personal and revealing, plunging further into
what it was like growing up in our respective families, what it was like
growing up poor for me and wealthy for him, and how coming out of each
situation had defined the people we were now.
 

Throughout the
day, room service delivered breakfast, lunch, and dinner to sustain us.
 
We ate, we made love, but what was most
important to me is that we came to know each other so intimately over the
course of only two short days that when Sunday morning arrived, it was truly
bittersweet.
 
At least for now, our
time together was over.
  

And that
crushed me.

“I need to
finish that report,” he said when he woke up.
 

“You do have to
finish it,” I said.
 
“And I want you
to call me on my cell if you need any help with it.
 
Promise me that you will, Brock.”

“I’m not about
to turn that offer down,” he said as he kissed me.
 
“So, you know, expect a call.
 
Or two.
 
Or probably five.”

I laughed when
he said that, but Brock looked so seriously at me when he reached out to touch
my cheek with the back of his hand that he stifled my laugh and then seized our
final moments together with a kiss that sent shockwaves through me.

“I can’t tell
you what these past two days have meant to me, Madison.”

I’m in love
with you
, I thought.
 
Even though I knew
that I could never tell him that at this point in our relationship, somehow I
had fallen in love with him.
 

And God help me
because of it.
 

When we’d first
made love, both of our hearts were on the line.
 
We’d discussed it.
 
But now, at least for me, it had crossed
an impossibly wide crevice.
 
At this
point, if he chose to walk away from me, I knew that I would only fall through
that crevice and be burned for believing that all this was so much more than
I’d thought it was.

“I feel the
same,” I said.

“But do you
feel what I feel?” he asked as he took me in his arms.

Instead of
revealing what I felt, I just looked at him—and wondered what he felt.

“I think that
you do,” he said after awhile.
 
“And
while I know that all of this has happened fast, maybe that’s just sometimes
how it is.
 
I don’t want to pressure
you or confuse you, Madison.
 
I just
want you to know that you’ve come to mean a great deal to me.
 
I only hope that what we’ve experienced
together over these past two days will get better from hereon.”