Private Passions (3 page)

At last. At last.
It echoed through
her head as she sucked and licked at his mouth, drinking in the
taste of him, pushing his jacket off his shoulders so she could
feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt.

His hands were busy too, running up and down
her back, her sides, the curve of her waist. She gasped as one big
hand closed over her breast, making her groan in frustration when
the padding of her strapless bra kept her from feeling the firm
swipe of his thumb over her nipple.

Never taking her mouth off of his, she
reached up and fumbled with the silk-covered buttons on the left
shoulder that held her dress up, frustration bubbling in her throat
when the tiny buttons eluded her shaking fingers.

Big hands reached up to brush hers aside. She
felt a rough jerk, then a popping sound as the shoulder strap gave.
She spared a moment of regret that Roberto Cavalli would likely
never lend her a dress again, but then decided it was worth it as
the bodice had barely pooled around her waist before Deck was
reaching up to jerk her strapless bra down with it.

He reached up, cupping her with his big
hands, squeezing, kneading. He groaned appreciatively at the feel
of her, sending an electric jolt straight to her core as his
fingers pinched and teased the rock hard tips.

Heat flooded between her thighs as he traced
hot, sucking kisses down her neck and across her chest. His mouth
closed over one sensitive tip, sucking hard, making her cry out.
She moaned his name, her fingers threading through the thick silk
of his hair as he sucked and licked at her nipples.

She rocked her hips, shifting against him
until the ridge of his cock was right where she wanted it, thick
and hard against the throbbing heat of her sex. Every pull on her
breasts sent a jolt of sensation to her core. Combined with the
delicious friction of him against her swollen clit, it had Jane on
the verge of coming apart before they'd even gotten all their
clothes off.

"Wait," Deck said, lifting his mouth from her
breasts and stilling her hips with a firm grip.

Jane gave a little moan and tightened her
fingers in his hair in protest. While grinding Deck on the couch in
her kitchen hadn't been on the list of the extensive fantasies
she'd concocted about him over the years, it felt so damn
good—better than anything she'd imagined— she was more than ready
to run with it.

Deck, it seemed, had other plans. He abruptly
rose from the couch, and Jane felt a purely feminine rush of
pleasure as he lifted her like she weighed nothing and urged her to
wrap her legs around his waist. "I'll be damned if I'm going to dry
hump you on the couch like a horny teenager when there's a
perfectly good bed upstairs," he muttered, his voice tight with a
need that mirrored hers.

He carried her through the foyer and up the
staircase, stopping every so often to pin her against the wall and
kiss her like he needed it more than his next breath. By the time
they got to her bedroom Jane was so turned on she was shaking with
it, ready to explode at the slightest touch.

The fine cotton of his shirt rasped against
the hyper sensitive tips of her breasts as her legs slid down his
to touch the floor. Her fingers went to work on the studs of his
shirt while he got rid of her bra around the waist and the belt
holding her dress up. His shirt slid off his shoulders in the same
moment her dress puddled at her feet.

They both gasped at the first skin on skin
contact, Jane pressed against him wearing nothing but a scrap of
lace that barely qualified as a pair of panties.

He lifted his mouth from hers, holding her
gaze as he slid his hand around the curve of her waist, down the
front of her stomach until his fingers rested along the stretchy
lace waistband of her underwear. She watched his amber eyes turn
molten as his fingers slid inside, over her mound until he cupped
her sex.

Her breath caught in her throat as he parted
her with long, blunt tipped fingers, his satisfied groan rumbling
through her when he found her slick and ready. He traced her slit,
coaxing another rush of moisture from her body. His fingers parted
her and brushed over her clit with the barest pressure, but it was
enough to make her gasp and quiver and clutch at his arms for
balance. "Deck," she murmured, a plea.

He slid his hand from her panties and pushed
her gently onto the bed. She was so shaky it didn't take much to
send her toppling. Her mouth watered at the sight of him looming
over her, her eyes eagerly taking in every detail of his bare,
muscled torso.

In all the years she'd known him, she'd seen
him in perfectly tailored suits and form fitting t-shirts but she'd
never seen him completely bare-chested. Like everything else with
Deck, the reality was infinitely better than she'd ever
imagined.

Rock hard muscles shifted and bunched under
tan, smooth skin. There were a couple of spots where the flesh was
pale and slightly puckered, scars that reminded her he wasn't some
Hollywood pretty boy but a hardened warrior.

His chest was covered with the same soft,
dark hair that dusted his forearms. Through it she could see the
outline of a tattoo on his left pec that looked like a shield with
two crossed arrows. The triangle of hair on his chest that tapered
into a silky dark line that bisected his rippling abs before
disappearing below the waistband of the pants hanging from his
narrow hips. No manscaping for Deck, she thought, shivering at the
remembered sensation of her nipples pressing up against that hard,
hairy chest.

She'd worked with the hottest men in
Hollywood, men who trained for hours a day while subsisting on egg
whites and chicken breasts.

None of them could hold a candle to Deck. He
possessed the kind of pure male perfection actors in her business
only wished they could achieve.

She suddenly became aware of the fact that
while she was looking at him, he was staring equally hard at her.
She was suddenly, painfully aware of her near total nakedness, and
the extra pounds she was carrying, on brutal display thanks to the
late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows that took up
one wall of her bedroom.

She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, wishing
there was a way she could reach the remote that controlled the
blinds and close it without making a show of it. The movement
seemed to bring his attention to sharper focus, and she inwardly
cringed, cursing herself for her lack of self discipline and
inability to adhere to her nutritionist's eating plan.

Deck let out a strained sound as he toed off
his shoes and put one knee on the mattress and came down over her.
Her breath caught as his hand splayed over her belly and his mouth
hovered over hers, but didn't touch.

"What is it?" she finally whispered.

"I've thought about getting you naked and in
bed with me so many times. Now that I do, you're so goddamn
beautiful I don't even know where to start."

All thoughts of self consciousness fled as
she felt the faint tremble of his hand against her stomach.
"Everything has worked so far," she said as she looped her arms
around his neck. "Why don't you just keep going and see what
happens."

###

Pleasure roared through him as Jane pulled
him in for a kiss. He loved the way her lips parted so eagerly for
the thrust of his tongue, loved the hot little sounds she made in
the back of her throat as his hand swallowed the bare curve of her
breast.

Despite what she said, he was having a hell
of a time keeping himself together. But like he'd said, he'd come
up with thousands of scenarios involving getting Jane naked and
under him over the years, and no way in hell was he going to ruin
it by going after her like some crazed teenager in the first rush
of puberty.

But God, it was so hard when the reality of
being with her was so infinitely better than anything he could have
imagined. She was beautiful, he got that. Her body was beyond
insane, and Deck had seen enough of her in person in skimpy bikinis
and on screen in a bra and underwear to have a pretty good idea of
what she'd look like fully naked.

He was quickly realizing that seeing her body
on display had done little to prepare him for impact of actually
being with her. Of tasting her tongue against his, drinking in the
salty sweet taste of her. Of feeling her skin under his hands, so
silky soft he was almost afraid it would bruise under the slightest
pressure of his big, callused hands.

Of seeing first hand the exact shade of dark
pink her nipples were, feeling them press insistently against the
palm of his hand, feeling her shudder when he flicked them with his
tongue.

He groaned into her mouth, felt his cock
strain uncomfortably against his fly. He wanted more than anything
to strip off the last of his clothes and give free rein to the
primal urge to sink inside her, take her in deep, hard thrusts
until he forgot his own name.

He couldn't give in, not yet. He'd lived for
too long convinced this would never happen, and this was his
opportunity to give into the need that dogged him every second he
spent with her, to find out once and for all just how good it could
be between them. And to show her just how good he could make her
feel.

Some might think he was taking advantage of
her vulnerability, seizing the opportunity to have her when she'd
turned to him for comfort.

Selfish bastard or not, the woman he'd been
wanting for years was nearly naked in his arms, her nipples
pressing in eager little points against his chest, her tiny lace
panties soaked with desire his touch had aroused. He finally had a
chance with her and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to take
it.

He shoved his needs to the background,
determined to make this so good for her that it would wipe away
every trace of sadness, replace it with mind numbing pleasure. All
he wanted to do was make her feel so good she forgot all about the
asshole who hurt her.

Resting his weight on his elbows, he cradled
her head in his hand and took her mouth over and over, thrusting
his tongue into her mouth slow and deep, imagining thrusting his
cock inside her in that same slow, steady rhythm. Every brush of
her skin against his, every stroke of her hands down his back sent
the blood roaring through his veins.

Nothing in his life had ever felt better than
her naked skin against his, the soft weight of her tits crushed
against chest. It was amazing, mind blowing, and it was only going
to get better from here.

He ran his hand down her ribcage, over the
deep curve of her waist, the lush rise of her hip. He slid his hand
up the silky plane of her belly and covered her breast, loving the
way she arched eagerly against his hand and made a little purring
sound at the back of her throat.

The sound went straight to his cock,
deepening the ache of need that was his constant companion whenever
he got within ten feet of her. She shifted underneath him, hooking
her leg up over his hip so he was cradled between her thighs. The
heat of her seared him even through the fabric of his pants.

His fingers tingled at the memory of how hot,
how slick she'd been against his fingers. He drew back, feeling in
that moment like his world would end if he didn't get to touch her
again. He slid his hand down her belly, chasing it with hot,
sucking kisses that made her sigh and squirm underneath him.

He circled his tongue around her belly button
and ran it the last few inches to the lacy waistband of her
panties, his mouth watering in anticipation. He hooked his fingers
in the waistband, pausing to look up.

The sight of her, her lush hair spilling over
equally lush tits, her golden hued skin practically glowing against
the sage green silk of her bedspread, her lips dark pink and
swollen from his kisses, and most of all the molten heat in her
blue eyes that gleamed with desire that matched his own... It was
almost enough to make him come in his pants right then and
there.

He drew the panties down her hips, down the
lean lines of her legs, and pulled them off her feet. He ran his
hands up the insides of her legs, pressing his palms against her
inner thighs until she opened to him. A groan rumbled in his chest
at the sight of her, the smooth lips of her pussy completely bare
except for a silky strip of dark curls decorating the top.

She as gorgeous here as she was everywhere
else, lush and pink, her soft folds gleaming with the evidence of
her need, her clit like a ripe berry begging for him to take her
into his mouth.

He ran his open mouth up the inner curve of
her thigh and spread her apart with his thumbs. He could feel her
quivering - or maybe that was him - as he lowered his head, letting
her feel the heat of his breath before he closed his lips over
her.

He circled her clit with his tongue, groaning
at the hot, salty sweet taste of her. Her answering moan was like
an electric current straight to his balls, and he sucked her
between his lips to see what other sounds he could wring from
her.

He moved lower, slipping his tongue inside
her, fucking her with his tongue like he was dying to fuck her with
his cock.

"Deck," she moaned, his name on her lips
sending a rush through him like he'd never felt before.

He slipped his tongue free, replacing it with
one finger, then two as he circled her clit with his tongue.
Christ, she was so tight, so wet, making him ache and throb as he
imagined her clenching around his cock like she was around his
fingers. Her fingers clutched his hair and he could feel her body
tightening with every lash of his tongue. He thrust his fingers
deeper, stroking her from the inside as he sucked and licked her
clit.

She gave a harsh cry and her body went
completely still for a moment before she shattered. Deck groaned as
she clamped down tight around his fingers, not lifting his lips
from her sex until the last tremor faded.