Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1) (16 page)

Watching the conflicting emotions play across her face, Clay just stood, drawing on his deep inner core of stillness to keep from influencing her decision.  As a SEAL, that stillness had kept him alive more times than he cared to count.  He didn’t want to push her, and he would go along with whatever choice she made, but he needed her to make the right one.  The one that would give them both a chance for the future.  His soul had been longing for her for three years.  The fact that he had found her again after giving up on the possibility of ever doing so was a sign he simply could not ignore.  They were meant to be together and he would do whatever it took to make her see that, too.  Unfortunately, that might mean allowing her whatever space and time she needed in order to come to him.

His hand lifted to cup her cheek and, unable to help herself, she leaned into it, closing her eyes on a sigh.  “Leah…” She heard him say her name, his voice a mere breath of a whisper.  Felt the pressure of his fingers along her jaw as he lifted her head to meet his gaze.  His eyes were hot, hard, and turbulent and she felt herself being swallowed up by them, scorched by them, as if his gaze was fire brushing her skin.

Desire, arousal, and pure, raw hunger surged heavily through her, sending hot cream spilling from her womb.  “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

Christ! 
Clay held his breath for a long moment, waiting for the sudden constriction in his chest to loosen before allowing himself to exhale.  He was astounded by her.  Delighted by her.  Awed by the depth of the connection he felt with her.  “Thank you.”  Firming his hand on her cheek, he pulled her toward him, sliding his arms around her and bending his head to capture her mouth in a sweet kiss.  At least he intended for it to be sweet.  But her intoxicating taste exploded against his lips and he found himself suddenly twisting her lips apart to admit his invading tongue.

Her stomach pitched and rolled, spilling moisture between her legs.  She moaned into his mouth and sagged against him as her knees gave way.  His kiss was deep, greedy, seeking everything from her that she was willing to give to him.  And, she suddenly realized, she was willing to give him everything.  Without taking his lips from hers, he bent down, placed his right arm behind her knees and lifted her high against his chest.  Then he turned and walked toward the door at the end of the hall.  As he carried her into his bedroom, she thought briefly of looking around to see what personal information she could glean from the possessions he surrounded himself with, but lust weighted her eyelids, making it difficult for her to keep them open.

Bending down, he laid her carefully on the bed, reaching for the zipper of her jeans and lowering it.  He loomed over her, like a conqueror contemplating his helpless captive.  With swift, economical movements, he stripped both her jeans and her panties off her hips and down her legs, tossing them to the floor.  He noticed her hands were shaking as she lifted them to the hem of her T-shirt, yanking it up over her head and tossing it away.  Her nipples were hard little knots beneath the lace of her bra.  He stood looking down at her, his eyes black pools of need.  He ran his tongue across his lips, drawing the lingering flavor of her kiss into his mouth, letting it sink into his soul.

She was well aware of the lascivious picture she made, naked from head to toe, her legs dangling off the bed.  The fact that she was naked and he was still dressed ratcheted up her arousal.  Arousal, hell.  It was more than mere arousal.  She was so hot, it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames.  Mouth dry, she licked her lips, a little nervous slide of her tongue across parched skin.

Clay noticed the gesture and something dark bloomed in the fathomless depths of his eyes.  “Spread your legs.” His rough command liquefied everything inside her, sending desire boiling through her veins.  Slowly, uncertainly, she slid her legs apart, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he fell to his knees between her legs. 
Omigod!  He’s going to—Richard never—no one’s ever—
she panicked.  Arching up on her elbows, she let out a croak. “Um, Clay?  I’m not—I’ve never—I mean—”

“It’s okay, baby.  I’ll take good care of you.”  Somehow Clay was not surprised that her asshole of an ex had never given her this pleasure.  But that meant that he would be the first to taste her, the first to discover all her magical, secret flavors and textures and scents, and the thought filled him with such power, he feared his chest would explode.  A wicked grin curved the corners of his mouth.  “And you’re going to love it, I guarantee.  Lie back down, love.  I can’t wait to give this to you.”  Waiting until she’d flopped back down on the bed, he slid his hands beneath her thighs.  Lifting one leg at a time, he draped them over his shoulders.  A whimper ripped from her throat as he took a long minute just to look at her, pink and swollen and glistening with the copious flow of her cream.  Gripping her buttocks, he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed, leaned forward, and buried his nose in her pussy, shaking his head gently back and forth and inhaling her sweetness to the bottom of his lungs.

She screamed, arching her back and bucking her hips up off the bed, driving herself onto his face.  He swept the flat of his tongue up the furrow of her slit from her anus to her weeping portal, savoring the smell of her, the taste of her, the satiny feel of her against his tongue.  “Fuck, Leah, you taste so goddamn delicious.  Like a ripe, juicy nectarine.  I could eat this sweet pussy every day and never get enough.”  He stroked up and down her cleft several more times, bringing forth a whole series of shivery moans from Leah, making her writhe with pleasure.  Chuckling against her skin, he brought the tip of his tongue to her clit.

She let out a squeak and her body tightened as he began a slow, deliberate circle all around that super-sensitized little nub, but not directly touching it.  Leah’s hands fisted in the bedspread, practically shredding it.  Her moans grew louder and more frequent as pleasure thundered through her.  Then he touched her clit and began flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across the tender little nub.

A muffled shriek tore from her lungs as she arched into his touch, seeking more of it.  Seeking…something she couldn’t even name.  Faster.  Harder.  The onslaught of his tongue on her hyper-sensitized clit sucked the breath from her lungs.  Sweat sheened her body, soaked her hair, as pleasure streaked through her with every hot swipe of his tongue until she was sobbing and writhing with the sheer pleasure of it.

He left her clit to rim her entrance before thrusting inside and fucking her with his tongue, blasting her into an entirely new realm of pleasure.  He went back and forth between her clit and her vagina, lapping at her like a man dying of thirst.  Then he moved his mouth back to her clit, wrapping his lips around her taut little nubbin.  At the same moment, he thrust two fingers into her vagina arching her upward with a sharp cry that shredded her throat. 
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! 
There was a spring inside her, tightening, tightening.  His lips nibbling her clit, his fingers inside her, delirious, deep…she was teetering on the brink of an orgasm that she knew would jar her to her bones and annihilate her very soul.  The coil tightened until it couldn’t tighten any more and she let out a scream.  “Oh, God, Clay.  Oh, God! Clay! 
Ohgodohgodohgod
, I’m coming, I’m—”

“Yes, Leah, come!  Come, baby.  Give me your pleasure.”  Clay sped up his movements as the quivering of her muscles grew more and more frantic.

For a moment there was silence as her entire body seized, arching into a rigid bow.  Frantically she pulled air into the bottom of her lungs and held it there, not breathing, not moving, except for tiny, spastic gestures of her hands.  Then, lungs emptying on a blistering scream, she exploded, limbs flailing violently as pleasure blasted through her, shattering her into a billion scintillating shards of light, pulsing through her in convulsions so powerful, it was as if her heartbeat had become the heartbeat of the entire world. 

While she was gasping, desperately trying to re-fill her lungs, Clay maintained her pleasure by little touches and twitches of his tongue against her clit, manipulating it with wicked skill, building up a second, even more excruciating orgasm.  It tore through her, followed by yet another.   Her head thrashed back and forth on the bed as wave after powerful wave of ecstasy crashed over her, into her, through her.  He kept the aftershocks going for what seemed like an eternity, until finally, with a sobbing groan, Leah went completely limp.  Her heart was beating so fast she feared it would burst.  As she lay there, dragging in huge gulps of air, Clay wiped her juices off his face on the insides of her thighs and stood up, looking down at her with an expression so tender, it made her want to weep.

He crawled onto the bed and laid down, rolling her onto her side and pulling her toward him.  He snugged her against him, her back to his front, fitting her ass into the cradle of his groin.  Then he slid his left arm beneath her head and nuzzled his face into her damp hair.  His right arm, he draped over her waist, bending his wrist upward to palm her breast, letting its weight rest in his hand.  Even though he’d wiped off most of her moisture from his face, her scent still clung to his skin, soaking into his heart and soul.  He’d never get enough of her.  Never.  Not even if he lived ten thousand lifetimes.  His cock, constricted by the denim fabric of his jeans, was so hard it was painful.  It would be a miracle if he didn’t wind up with a permanent zipper imprint embedded into his skin.  He’d never been more aroused, but he was determined to delay his own pleasure.  It wouldn’t be easy.  Leah tested his control in ways he’d never thought possible, but he was disciplined enough to deny himself.  He needed to give her a chance to drift down from that long string of orgasms he’d just given her.

She lay quiescent in his arms, unable to move, unable to think, unable to speak, three things she had excelled at not twenty minutes ago.  But he had stripped her of all that with the skilled manipulations of his tongue against the most sensitive part of her body.  That was okay, though. He had given her something far more precious.  He had given her herself.  She was not, as Richard had so often told her, frigid.  Incapable of pleasuring a man.  An “Ice Princess.”  She was a wanton, highly sexual woman who had never had so many orgasms in her life.  Who had never even thought herself
capable
of having so many orgasms.  At least not all at once.  Her body was still tingling.  She sighed and raised up slightly.  Clay’s grip on her breast loosened, but his arm remained draped over her waist as she turned around to face him.  As the rough fabric of his polo shirt scraped across her sensitized nipples, she sucked in her breath.  They both straightened their legs, aligning their bodies groin to groin, her head still resting on his upper arm for a pillow.

Their eyes locked and held, hers slumberous and languid, his dark and smoky, swirling with a whole slew of emotions she couldn’t identify.  With tremendous effort, she lifted a hand to cup his cheek, trying to jump-start her brain to form a coherent sentence.

‘I—you—”She tried again.  “That—”

Clay chuckled.  “That good, huh?  Your command of the English language is astonishing, Dr. Stanhope.”

“Guh.”  She sighed and snuggled closer.  She felt his cock throb against her mound through the denim of his jeans.  “Um…aren’t you—I mean, don’t you—you know—“She broke off again, exhausted. 
Wow.  Who knew talking could be such hard work?

His arms tightened briefly.  “Later, love.  After you’ve recovered a bit.”

Gulp. 
“Okay.”  She felt him pressing kisses against her hair.

“This is more than just sex between us, Leah.  You know that, don’t you?”

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh.  “Yes,” she said, relieved to finally admit it not just to him but to herself as well.

“This is for keeps.  I know this seems awfully sudden, but it’s not for me, and I don’t think it is for you, either.  When I held you on that beach three years ago, our souls connected in a way that told me I had found the one I’d been searching for all my life.  But then you ran and I despaired of ever finding you again.  But I did find you.  And now…having you here, in my arms, in my bed—it’s meant to be, Leah.  This.  Us.  I know you have a life back in San Francisco, friends, responsibilities, a career you love.  But you could have that same career here, only here you’d be running your own gallery, not someone else’s, a gallery showcasing your own works instead of the works of others.

“We can buy a portable classroom and put it out behind the house for your work studio.  Or you can turn one or more of the bedrooms into a studio.  I know what I’m asking is a huge risk.  I’m asking you to give up everything you know.  To uproot your entire big city life and move to the country.  You don’t have to make up your mind right away,” he added hastily, when she drew in her breath to speak, “just promise me you’ll think about it, okay?  That’s all I’m asking right now.  For you to think about it.”

“Okay.  I’ll think about it.”

He let out a relieved sigh.

“But what about Richard?” she asked.  “What if he finds me?”

“If he finds you, he will be dealt with swiftly and harshly,” Clay said in a tone that forbade further discussion.  “That I can guarantee.”

She thought about it for a minute, then nodded.

“All right, baby, I’m going to get up for a minute.  I want you to stay right here and don’t move, okay?

Reluctantly he rolled away from her and slid out of bed.  He went into the bathroom and Leah heard splashing before he came back out carrying a wet washcloth, a hand towel, and a glass of water.  He placed the glass on the night stand.  Kneeing up onto the bed, he twisted his hips and sat beside her.  “Roll over, baby,” he said, putting the towel down on his thigh.  “Spread your legs.”  Accurately reading her hesitation as embarrassment, he added soothingly, “I’m just going to clean you up a bit.”