Reckless Hearts (15 page)

This
part, I know: the pleasure, the power. The fun. It could all be so
simple.

Why
can’t everything just be simple?

“It’s
time to keep your promises.” I wink, then turn and walk slowly
up the stairs, my hips swinging with every step. I hear Will follow,
as I head for his bedroom. I push the door open and go lie down on
the bed, propped on my elbows—displayed to him, waiting.

He
stands in the doorway and slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. “I
think you’re forgetting something,” he says, tossing it
aside.

“Like
what?” I ask, enjoying the show. He unbuckles his belt, and
then strips off his pants, too, standing in just his briefs there in
front of me, so taut and delicious, and my pulse races even faster.

God,
I want him.

“I
promised I’d fuck you,” Will agrees casually, moving
closer, close enough to grip my ankles and yank me closer, down the
bed.

My
heart stops. My whole body sizzles with anticipation. He traces my
lips, easing them open, and pushes his thumb into my mouth. I shudder
at the intimacy, the cool touch of his skin against my tongue. He
leans in and kisses my cheek, my neck, the swell of my chest. I
inhale in a gasp as his hands slide over me. Touching, teasing, a
trail of quicksilver on my sensitive skin. I arch up, needing him
more than I think I’ve ever needed anything, but instead of
pinning me down and ravaging me, Will’s voice murmurs, soft in
my ear.

“But I said, when I take
you, you’ll be mine. Are you mine, Delilah?”

His
eyes lock on mine, questioning. I don’t know what to say, I
have no words, so I kiss him hard instead, trying so desperately to
keep control. But Will refuses to let me set the pace; his mouth on
mine stays slow, so infinitely sweet. He eases my lips open and sinks
his tongue into my mouth, deeper, hotter than anything I’ve
felt before. I want to lose myself in the oblivion of pleasure, block
out all these messy emotions and shut the world away, but it’s
no use, not with him.

When
he kisses me, there’s no escape.

Will’s
lips explore softly, his steady hands pin me down, and something in
my chest finally snaps, unravels. The knot of sadness, that angry,
bitter place, it all unspools as I sink into the tenderness of his
embrace. All the feelings I’ve been holding back and trying to
ignore come rushing through, and I can’t hide anymore. Because
Will won’t let me. He sees past all my bullshit excuses, and
somehow still wants me. The real me. Not just for fun, a wild fling,
all those meaningless, safe little games. But something real.

Something
I could hold onto, if I only trusted myself enough to let go.

I
pull away, breathing fast. He looks at me, waiting, patient. I gently
press my hand to his cheek. “I don’t know how to do
this,” I whisper, hating that I’m suddenly on the edge of
tears. I feel naked and exposed, all my messy emotions suddenly
dragged into the harsh light of day. I swallow back the sting in my
throat, and admit the truth. “I don’t know how to be with
someone, like this, for real. I’ve never even come close.”

Will
looks at me with such tenderness, I swear my heart could break in
two. “It’s easy, I promise,” he murmurs, his hazel
eyes searching mine. “Just trust me, that’s all you need
to do. Trust me, and just . . . be you. That’s
all I want, to be with you.”

I
still don’t understand it, how he can be so certain and
resolute. I’ve done nothing but try to keep him at arm’s
length, and he still sees something in me that makes him stay. “What
if I’m scared?” I ask, my chest aching. “I might
fuck this up, and get everything wrong . . .”

“There
is no right and wrong.” Will holds me, so close I can feel his
heartbeat, steady and strong in his chest. “There’s just
us. You and me, right here, now. That’s all it is. Whatever you
want, it’s yours. You want to sit up all night playing
Scrabble, I can make that happen,” he adds, giving me that
boyish grin. “Although, I draw the line at letting you win.”

“No
chance.” I have to smile, despite everything. “How about
a working gas stove?” I ask, teasing.

“OK,
that might take a little longer.” Will smooths back my hair.
“But I mean it, Dee. I’m here. I’m not going
anywhere,” he promises softly, searching in my eyes. “The
rest is up to you.”

I
stare back, torn. For years, I’ve been telling myself that this
is impossible. Nothing lasts. Nothing stays the same. But from the
very first night we met, he’s been proving me wrong—giving
me a glimpse of a future I’d sworn didn’t even exist. He
made me chicken soup, for christ’s sake, even when I was a
fevered wretched mess.

There’s
nobody like him in the world, and maybe this will all fall apart one
day, but what if it doesn’t have to? What if this love can be
real?

Wouldn’t
that be worth the risk?

The
thought crashes through me in an instant. Not him leaving, or lying,
or the hurt angry fighting in the end—but everything else we
could have, if only I would try. Will, in my bed, not just tonight,
but a hundred more nights besides. Afternoons with my friends, just
hanging out, and sultry summer evenings together by the creek. Him
waiting when I get home from work, there when I wake in the morning,
when I need someone; just him.

It’s
intoxicating. So close, I want it more than anything. So why am I
fighting it so damn hard?

Will
can see the fight I’m waging inside, because he gives me that
crooked smile. “Or I could just fuck you tonight, and leave the
rest on the table.”

I
blink, surprised.

“You’re
nearly naked in my arms,” he points out. “I may have some
self-control, but you’re really testing it right now.”

He
trails one fingertip down my body, over the dip of my waist and up
over the curve of my hip. It makes me shiver, makes me almost say to
hell with it, but I know him too well for that.

“No,”
I whisper. Hurt and disappointment flash on his handsome features.
“No, I mean, yes, to more,” I say quickly, taking his
hand. “I want more than just tonight. I want you, all of you.”

There’s
a pause, and I see my words sink in. Then desire flashes, hot in his
gaze, and there’s no time left for talking, no time for
anything but his mouth on mine and his body crushing me with
delicious weight as Will stretches me back into the soft linens and
claims me once and for all.

This
kiss is anything but controlled. Hot and wild, his hands are on me,
everywhere, the hard heat of his body pressing into mine. I wrap
myself around him, devouring with every breath, losing myself in the
sweet, reckless pleasure I’ve been running from for so long.

But
not tonight.

Tonight,
I sink into his embrace, I give myself up to him, completely. Tasting
him, touching him, feeling his body shift and hitch; memorizing every
cool curve of muscle and shivering stretch of skin. I kiss along his
neck and down over his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him.
Will’s skin shudders under my wandering fingers, and I trail my
tongue down over his stomach, biting lightly at his hip and making
him stiffen with anticipation. I peel his briefs away, and then he’s
thick and glorious in my hands, God, so delicious, I have to taste.

I
close my mouth around his tip, angling my head to take him into my
mouth.

“Fuck,
Dee . . .”

Will’s
voice is ragged, a distant sound over the heartbeat pounding in my
ears. I settle between his legs, still touching him, my palms to the
smooth planes of his body, and now I feel it tense and hitch, his
hips straining towards me as I slide my tongue down that gorgeous
shaft and swirl back up again. Will’s hands settle on my head,
tangling in my hair as I take him in my mouth again, deeper this
time. I find a rhythm, sinking into the bliss, the sheer sensual
pleasure of surrendering myself to this moment, to giving, to
everything I want to tell him but can’t find the words.

I
don’t need words, not like this, when my mouth can say
everything I want without uttering a sound. I find the pace, using my
lips to tease him, the very tip of my tongue, before taking him deep
again, deep and slow until he’s gasping. It’s different
with him. God, it’s all brand new. Not a competition, some big
performance, a race to the finish line. Now, all I want is to hear
his groans of pleasure and make them last, feel the slick heat of his
skin beneath my tongue. I lose myself in him, the cresting build of
tension and need wound tighter, tighter as his hands grip my hair and
his body thrusts to meet me. My body is wildfire, shimmering and raw,
and he hasn’t even touched me; no, all I have is his
satisfaction, but somehow, it’s more than enough.

I
want to show him everything he means to me. Give him the pleasure
he’s given to me. And now, feeling his body rise and his groans
grow more desperate, I know he’s on the edge. I pull away,
teasing just the tip until Will lets out a desperate growl, then I
sink back down, taking all of him, as deep as I can, moving my lips
along his shaft as I slide my tongue against him, over and over,
relentless, until Will pulls away. I look up, confused.

“Not
like this,” he says, almost growling as he yanks me up the bed.
He rolls me, pinning me down beneath his body. “I’m not
coming until I’m deep inside you, baby,” he swears, the
look in his eyes making by blood run hot. “I want to feel you
begging for me, give you every last inch.”

His
mouth crashes down on mine, and I arch up eagerly, wrapping myself
around him, god, so ready for more. His hands are on me, everywhere,
stripping my bra and panties away, and following that electric touch
with his lips and tongue. He teases at my nipples until I’m
aching, moaning, his tongue sliding hot over my trembling skin. Will
takes one stiff peak into his mouth and sucks, hard, as his hands
part my thighs wider. I catch my breath, mouth dropping open in a
silent gasp as his fingertips tease at my slick core. “Fuck,”
he moans against me. “You’re so wet.”

I’m
shuddering against him, wound so tight I can barely breathe. Every
inch of my skin feels electric and wild, and I’m writhing now,
impatient. “Please,” I manage to whimper, dizzy with lust
for him, with pure molten need. “Please Will . . .”

He
reaches for the nightstand. I take the foil packet from him, savoring
the stiff heat I feel as I help slide the condom over his shaft and
then yes, fuck, he’s poised above me, that gorgeous face alive
with desire. But there’s something more, too: a reverent look
in his eyes that quiets my last doubts and sends me spinning into the
sweet rush of the moment.

Will
slowly thrusts inside me, and I know, there’s no turning back.

Not
from how right this feels, how he fits me so perfectly. Grinding
deep, fuck, so deep, our bodies rising up to meld with each other,
like we were always meant to be this way. The feel of him is like
nothing in the world. Filling me up, stretching me, already sending
bolts of pleasure rushing thick through my every last sense. I cling
to him, it’s all I can do to match the slow, sensuous pace of
his body, each stroke more powerful than the last. Will rises up on
his elbows, face just inches from mine. Our lips touch, and I feel
every ragged breath, every surge that brings him closer to me.
Faster, deeper, my blood is boiling, my nails clutching at his back,
but still, he doesn’t break his pace.

“Baby,”
he groans, thrusting into me again, and hearing the need in his voice
sends me soaring. I answer the only way I can, clenching around him,
massaging him from the inside out, already feeling the shudder of
release coiling low in my spine, the stardust beginning to shiver
through my toes as Will takes me over the brink, the feel of him
inside me so good, I can’t hold back.

“Don’t
stop,” I gasp, coming alive. “Fuck, please, don’t
ever stop.”

Will
captures my face in one hand, and then god, he’s watching me as
I come undone. Those steady eyes, burning with passion, seeing right
through me—all the way to my soul.

This
man. God, this incredible man.

I
give in to the rush, to how it feels, finally—to have him. To
belong to someone. I see it all echoed right back in his expression
as my body rises and I break apart for good, pleasure shattering
through my body with a cry. Pure, sweet elation races through me, and
then I feel him break apart with a shudder, clinging to me, our
bodies surging together, over and over, until we’re spent and
sweaty in each other’s arms.

I
hold him, and for the first time in my life, I never want to let go.

The
world slips back slowly: the weight of him, the softness of his
sheets, the porch light shining through the dark of the bedroom
window. It’s the same place we were just a few minutes ago, but
everything feels different now.

Will
rolls to the side, and collapses with a groan. I smile; I can’t
stop from beaming, feeling the incredible afterglow, and the pleasure
still ebbing through my body.

“You
alive over there?” I ask, echoing his question to me the other
day. Will rumbles with laughter. He turns his head, and gives me a
sleepy, worn-out grin.

“Barely,”
he says, lazily trailing one hand over my stomach. I shiver, and he
smiles. “You?”

I
nod and scooch in closer, resting my head in the nook of his
shoulder. I trace circles over his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow
to a steady pace. He takes my hand, and brings it to his lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, brushing hair
from my eyes.

I
flush, still giddy to hear it—and look in his eyes and know
that he means every word. I’m not used to believing in a man,
in all the flirting and pretty words that usually mean nothing at
all.