The Passion Play (15 page)

"And think of making that baby, Felicity," he said, his voice husky. "No awkward stranger.
Just me, deep inside you again and again. You know we're good together. You'd enjoy it." Those words were a promise, made with lowered eyelids and a sensual curl of his lip that brought her a quiver deep inside. "I'd enjoy it." Her body was still pressed against his and she felt the rise of his erection, a potent punctuation to his words. He gripped the base of her skull in his big hands and it softened her taut muscles until she felt like a kitten suddenly limp, boneless. He kissed her briefly with passionate fervency and then said: "Everything about me that makes your body crave mine is a biological impulse. My pheromones telling you you've found the perfect father for your child. You could search a long time to find a match that good again."

"I . . . you're not smart enough."

"Beg pardon?"

"Intelligence is very important to me."

He frowned at her. "Say what? I'm intelligent."

"Well I'm not saying you're stupid. It's just it
’s all on a sliding scale, you know." She felt awful to say it out loud, but how was she going to convince him she was serious otherwise?

"Dammit. I am smart. What do you want? SAT scores?
College grades?"

"You went to college?"

"
Yes,
I went to college," he said with exasperation. "Studied hard. Got good marks. I’m not just a jock you know. If I act dumb every time I see you it's your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes. I can barely think straight when I'm around you. Let alone impress you with my debonair wit and charm."

"You have those?" she said, unable to resist teasing him a little, he looked so indignant at the idea she thought he was not clever enough.

"Yes!" Then when he saw she was grinning up at him he relaxed and smiled back at her. "Yes," he repeated more gently. "I'm a catch, you know. If I didn't make the best first impression it's because you're stunning and I was distracted.

"Is that how it went, is it?" she murmured.

"Yeah. Totally. So revise everything you think you know about me and insert," here he held one hand over his head, opening and closing it like a neon sign flashing, "sophisticated, suave and intellectually superior."

"
Really? Very modest."

"Forget modesty. I tried that and you keep trying to dump me. From here on in
it's honesty all the way. Stop laughing. I'm pretty much depending on it at some point you'll let me take you back to bed," here he crowded her, nudged her gently against the hall table then lifted her up onto it and cupped her breasts, "and when we've spent a few weeks there-"

"Weeks?"

"Weeks," he said firmly, allowing no doubt, "then I'll be able to put my thoughts together into some vague semblance of order and seduce you properly, body
and
mind."

"That sounds a bit horse before cart."

"Well it's not me who had the bright idea to find a stud to sire a child. Apparently there's some sort of deadline here. I can be persuaded to mess up the proper order of things."

"Look, I'm not at
all
certain you're the right guy for the job-"

"But there's some doubt, isn't there? We can work with that. Tell you what. I'll wear condoms the first few weeks, we'll get over the hurdle of my mental incompetence and when we're both
real
satisfied then you can ask me to father your child. How's that for compromise?" He reared back to beam at her.

She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but found she had nothing to say. It was not that she agreed he was the right man to impregnate her, but she did not have a concrete reason to refuse him either and everything he had said was true about both his physical qualifications and his sex appeal. Her body did crave his, more than made sense to her. Right now it was excited to have him pressing hard and insistent into the core of her and she really just wanted an excuse to say 'yes' and let him bear her off to the bedroom. It might be weak and reckless but it was also real and good, somehow all those things together and she could not sort one from another and make a decision.

He kissed her again, the slippery wetness of his tongue and lips confusing the issue even further.

"Say yes," he urged her. "Yes."

"Yes," she repeated on a sigh.

Without hesitation he lifted her and – just like she wanted – carried her to her room, her legs wrapped around his waist, arms resting on his broad shoulders, feeling light as a dandelion seed to be borne so easily. He went down on the bed without letting her go, one outstretched arm caught their weight to lower them gently and now he rested fully on her, pushing her legs even further apart.

As he gazed at her she thought she saw a new light of possession glowing in his eye and it should have raised her hackles but it did not. Before she could think about that more his mouth was on hers, his whole body against hers from head to foot in a gliding rub that made her writhe against him.

He stripped her of her gloves and just enough of her and his own clothes to get at her.
She let go of thought deliberately, focused in on this moment with this big male body hot and hard and urgent for her, pushing her down beneath him as if staking a claim and she allowed him, the primeval nature of it appealing to her.

When he stopped, poised at the entrance to her body, his palm cupping her breast, and said: "Condom?" she hesitated, tempted to tell him 'no,' to just go ahead, which was crazy.

"Yes," she said instead, quivered at the mistake she had nearly made and thought she must be more cautious and remember exactly what this was, and what it was not.

He had brought a condom in the pocket of his jeans and he pulled it out and put it on before returning to slide inside her in one smooth motion, all his bodyweight holding her still and just when she thought she needed air he reared back and thrust again and for the first time she looked up at him as he brought himself home inside her. He was watching her face at an awkward angle given how big he was, and his expression was dark and brooding.

But when she looked at him it lightened, the corners of his eyes creased in a welcoming smile. She smiled back tentatively and then closed her eyes again, reached down to hold his buttocks inside his jeans, to draw him deep inside her.

She imagined his penis was naked, that he wore no condom, that at any moment the gush of his hot semen would fill her and stay inside her to create new life and to her astonishment felt an orgasm sweep in out of nowhere and crash over her, to leave her shuddering.

His rhythm quickened. "I like to watch you come," he murmured. "It turns me on so much," and for a moment she was disconcerted. She was not used to talk during sex. Dan had not . . .

No. She was never going to let him in again at a moment like this. He did not deserve any place in her life.

She was angry when she pulled Luke to her and set her teeth in his pectoral through his shirt, angry when she bit him hard and dug her fingernails into the small of his back, punished him for something that was not his fault.

He grunted but he did not question it, let her use him, a small catharsis, and when she
lifted his shirt and soothed the bite mark with her tongue he hissed a quiet "yes" and quickened again, driving her up the bed. She called out quietly with the force of it, surprised herself with the porn star sound, repeated the glad cry, head flung back and heels pushing on the bed to lift her pelvis to meet him. It was earthy and wild, visceral, and she felt strange and new, that she had found an unknown part of herself with him.

She clung tight to him and never
mind how she was jostled, how the pounding of him shook her, it was good. "Yes," she told him, and liked the sound of it on her lips, the power of the word, of the choice.

"Yes." When he came they said it together and again she opened her eyes to find his closed this time so she got to enjoy watching him privately for a moment, saw the weight of his ecstasy upon him and how he shook with it. It aroused her and created a subtle orgasmic ripple through her inner muscles to see him vulnerable and shattered like that as poured his completion into her.

It made her feel tender and affectionate, and this time she did not fight the emotions but just let them rest inside her, fresh and new.

He rolled to one side and drew her up his chest far enough that he could drop sweet little kisses on her face.

"Hey, you're not supposed to get all-" she started.

"Don't tell me what I'm supposed to do or not do," he chided. "I'll look after you the way I please and the only feedback I will take into consideration is if you like it or not. There is no 'supposed'. We make our own rules."

So she opened her mouth to tell him she did not like the little cherishing touches and then found she could not truthfully say that. Instead she was silent, and he who had paused to listen to her went back to kissing her with a satisfied air. Then he held her close, his hands on her skin under her remaining clothes.

It grew darker and she knew she should really get up and draw the curtains against the chill but she did not want to leave his hold and the brief contentment she had found there. She wondered if he was dozing but although his breathing came and went steadily there was no hint of a snore so she could not tell for sure.

"Luke?"

"Hmmm?"

"I thought you might be asleep."

"No, not asleep.
I wouldn't dare. If I don't keep an eye on you you might start thinking again, and that's nothing but trouble."

"I've decided to stop trying to make the rules and make it all work out right to save you from yourself."

"Oh, well . . . good. If you're going to have thoughts like that you have my permission to go ahead. You just worry about yourself for a change, or maybe don't worry at all but just enjoy your life and have fun."

She sighed. "I'm trying. I'm really trying.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

She woke a little before him and lay in the dimness of the quiet room, feeling the warmth of his arm thrown over her, his hair-roughened thigh between hers. Her back was against his chest and he had one hand on her breast.

Looking at the faint light easing in around the thick curtains she thought she should probably wake him up. Odds were good that he had not thought to set an alarm. He had been thoroughly distracted last night. She smiled a little to think how distracted, a curl of satisfaction
unraveling in her to have pleased him so thoroughly, matched him as an equal, a lover, despite how unsure she still felt about the whole thing.

Slowly she was coming to think there was some alchemy between
them, that he could send her out of her head, make her focus instead on the moment they shared, the passion and fire. It was easy to be ardent when for once she was not worrying about getting things right or if she looked okay with all her clothes off – was instead consumed by her desire to possess him, wring him dry, get closer and closer as if she would just devour him. It was amazingly animal in fact, but not in a bad way. Just unfamiliar, powerful and earthy. She had not known she had that woman within her. Oh, the noises she made! Embarrassing at first but he obviously liked it so much she relaxed and just let go.

She liked it too. She liked him. Too much for her purposes but maybe the right amount for a lover. Could one even be intimate like that with someone one did not like? Perhaps others could do it. She had never had the experience. Perhaps she would someday.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought. Though the idea of the wildness and unpredictability of exploring her sexuality with other partners had held brief appeal, she found the impulse had slackened. This was just so much . . . nicer. Maybe she would go back to the other idea afterward. She sighed, and felt Luke's slight shift in response, though he slept on. Alright, so she was useless at leading at a wild and hedonistic life. She just could not hang loose and let go. But sexual frustration must have been a big part of that restlessness because so much of the itch was gone, now.

All that was left was her instinct to nail down the parameters of what she and Luke were sharing, label it neatly, categorized to her satisfaction, and put an expiry date on it. She wondered if she would end it or he would. It was on her mind that it might be awhile before she wanted it to be over, it was so . . . restorative to be ravished so well. Ravished was not quite the right word either but he did certainly have a way of sweeping her off her feet.

She had promised to enjoy that and not do this: think too much about it all.

As a distraction she rolled over in little shifts – all she could manage with his arms tight around her, legs tangled in hers – to face him, and by the time she got there he was awake.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he said.

"You shouldn't call me that, you know," she said calmly, finding it peculiar to have her naked body next to his like this and talk. She was not used to such intimacy.

He shrugged, lifted his brows and smiled. "Your heart is sweet. It's the accurate term." He put a kiss on her forehead.

"I don't think I've been very sweet to you."

"You've really been up against it, haven't you? I've been an ass. You've done your best."

She
gurgled a little laugh against his chest, charmed by the unique perspective. "I hadn't thought of it like that. Okay, I'll take full credit. Sweetheart it is," she added the last recklessly, feeling like indulging him in some small way, he who amused her. She felt the twitch and rise of his penis against her thighs and scolded, "None of that. You don't have time for it."

"I know. But he's ever-hopeful. You can't blame him. Early morning, gorgeous woman snuggled up
close, under those circumstances of course he's going to try to get some action."

"But not you?"

"Oh no, not me. I'm too much of a gentleman. Besides you need some time to recover. I don't want to chafe you up so badly you shut me out when I come back tonight."

"Tonight
, is it? I don't recall inviting you."

"That was the point of the good loving," he said, stretched his arms over his head and enjoyed a joint-popping stretch, then put his arms back around her. "It's supposed to lure you into wanting more."

"So you're saying that's not your normal self?" She raised her eyebrows. "I can expect standards to slip in the future?"

"No, no, don't you go putting words in my mouth again. You're too clever for your own good.
Not at all. What you are getting is gold-plated, five-star servicing. Nothing less."

"You have a standards system?"

"I think we're going to stop this conversation before I get another attack of foot-in-mouth. Damn, woman, you are dangerous. Let's change the subject. What time is it?"

"I've no idea. My watch is on the night-stand though, if you want to have a look."

He rolled away, the drape of the bed linen giving her an interesting view of the sweep from broad shoulders down to narrow waist and such taut buttocks she could not help but stare. As soon as she saw them she wanted to put her hands on them. She was eying him hungrily when he turned back with the watch, frowning down at the small, ornate face with its pretty but hard-to-read dial, even less decipherable in the dim light.

"Is that . . . no it can't be . . . aw hell!" he tossed it down, vaulted from the bed and gathered up an armful of his discarded clothes, threw them on the rumpled covers and started to get them on as fast as he could. She watched the reverse striptease a little wistfully. She was not
that
sore, not really sore at all, and it was sad to see all that masculine loveliness unused.

Still, he obviously needed to get to work more than he needed a diversion right now, so she rolled to the other side of the bed and got out, looking for her robe. As she picked it up she realized the frantic rustling of clothes had stopped and she turned to see him standing staring at her with a dazed expression.

She slid her arms into the robe then paused, let it hang open. "Hmmm?" she asked in innocent enquiry.

He came across the room in quick strides, swooped her up and came down on the bed with her, pants still unbuttoned, morning erection surging from the top in an effort to be freed. She put her legs around his waist and he rubbed up against the core of her, a slow, intense grind, eyes half-lidded, nostrils flared. "Damn, how can a man ever think straight when you look like that, all pink and rumpled and sexy straight out of his bed?"

"My bed," she murmured provocatively, arching up to him.

His fingers went down to touch her and came away damp. "My God, how can you be so wet already?" he asked. "I just want to lick you and suck you and slide inside you and I
haven't got time
."

"Put a condom on," she told him and he pulled one out of his pocket immediately, ripped it open and crammed it on with frantic fingers.

"So slide inside me then," she challenged him, and he came down on one knee on the edge of the bed, erection in one hand, and lowered himself to fit it to her, eyes on her face. "Gently," she said, closing her eyes, smiling a little, and he moved an inch at a time, thrusting and withdrawing, a tugging intensified by the extra friction. It might be tender later but it felt good right now so she shifted her angle to draw him in, her heels coming to press on his buttocks, urge him further into her body.

One of his hands was bearing his weight, the other underneath her bottom, and as she became more aroused he slid deeper into her, faster, urging hoarsely, "Come with me sweetheart. Come with me."

"I don't think I can," she said dreamily, not caring, just enjoying the hasty rawness of it all, the power to pull him from his duties, his day, and bring him to her, all lustful ardor.

Then he put a hand on her breast, rolled her sensitive nipple between his fingers, and the bolt of electricity that shot through her at that touch made her cry out, shuddering and coming in a startling burst. "Oh," she said in surprise.    

"Good girl," he said, approving and relieved, and shoved into her full length, the moisture and relaxation of her climax letting her take him fully. Oh it was good, so hasty and primal, and when moments later he reached his own orgasm she smiled in triumph, feeling it a small victory over rational judgment and sensible timetables. She cracked an eye open to watch him recover, breathing heavily and leaning on one elbow, body still joined to hers.

"So, you're running late?" she reminded him, and he nodded and grinned like the devil and withdrew then kissed her passionately, hands coming up to cup her face.

"You are some kind of wonderful," he told her fervently, kissed her again and backed away to survey her laid out on the bed, tumbled and satisfied. "I am going to be picturing you like that all day. I'm going to be crazy waiting to get back to you. And you better believe the instant I get inside this house I'm going down on you till I make you as crazy as me."

She breathed out through her nose in a little huff of amusement, failing to find any objection to this plan. "Okay." He grinned at her, radiating delight, and ran off down the hall. "Shoes!" she called out after him and he came back, kissed her again, collected them and went a second time.

She lay back on the bed, flung her arms over her head and stretched, gloriously used. Well, that was quite a way to wake up. She could certainly get used to that, she smiled, and shook her head at herself, foolishly, gloriously lustful and satisfied.