Page 7 of Hollywood King
Cathy
More beautiful wordshad never been spoken by another human being before. “Aw, but I didn’t get you anything.”
He laughed, and I felt it in my thighs still wrapped tight around his back. “You’ve got jokes.”
I sobered. “But really, don’t tease me with this. It would be cruel. Especially with all these muscles here under my hands, and yeah...it would just be mean.”
“I have no intention of teasing you. The opposite in fact.”
He pulled me in tighter as he let go of a thigh to flip on lights as we made our way to my room. “What if Ley comes back? Should we have locked the door?”
That bastard. “No, he’s the one who will be scarred for life if he has the balls to interrupt. I, myself, will throw him out.”
He tossed me onto my bed, the dove grey duvet still smooth from the housekeeper’s ministrations, now mussed. “I was hoping you’d punch him. He deserves it so much.”
As he towered over me from the end of the bed, I got a better look at everything from the knees up. Damn. Why hadn’t I made him get naked and stay naked sooner? We’d had our heavy make out sessions where clothes flew off. But he’d always stopped us before things could go too far. Citing my illness and frail health as the reason. I swallowed back the doubt beginning to creep up. Would he do it again? Leave me to deal with my feelings and arousal on my own? He’d done it so many times in the past.
Finally, he climbed up on the bed beside me, so gloriously naked. “I’m not going anywhere. I can see the thoughts running through your head, Catherine.”
He took his time and looked me over. It felt like I stood in the kitchen again. His eyes memorizing every curve, every scar, every hollow.
“I feel overdressed now.”
“Let’s fix that.” He unbuttoned my pants and worked them down my legs, dragging my panties with them. I squirmed as he rubbed his stubbled cheeks back up my calf and outer thigh on his ascent.
I wiggled out of my sweater, shirt, and bra. Instead of easing back, he settled next to me, partially canted over my right side, his thigh overlapping mine. Half of me shivered from the chill. Half from his erection pressed against the dip in my waist. I wanted to reach out and grab it. Make him feel good, too, but I knew he’s stop me.
His fingertips down my belly made me jump. “Ticklish?”
He leaned in and curved his arm under my head. “Give it a minute, and you won’t be. Tell me what you like, Cathy. How you like to touch yourself when I leave you in the middle of the night, squirming to be filled.”
My throat went dry, and this time, the shiver took me head to toe. Sometimes, he would do that, lay beside me in bed and tell me in lengthy detail all the dark delicious things he wanted to do to me when my health improved.
“I...” But nothing else came out. I shook from the need lancing through me. I’d waited so long, it felt as if all the pent up lust over the last year pooled between us. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I like it hard and fast. On my clit.”
The words didn’t come out as confidently as I wanted them to, but he didn’t seem to care. He ducked his head to my neck and took a huge breath.
When his hand cupped my pussy, I jerked, and he pulled me into him tighter with the other hand. We’d never done this. He’d always always always stopped before things got too far. My skin tingled from the forbidden touch.
His fingers parted me and found my swollen clit easy. It would take him seconds to get me off in this state. I’d given myself countless orgasms, but this one felt different, hotter, darker, more personal than any before.
“I’m going to do it slow and then go faster. I want to feel you squirm in my arms, Cathy. And when I’m done I’m going to do it again.”
I could only nod at his proclamation. His eyes were locked on mine, the hard jut of his erection digging into my side. And I wanted all of him. The parts he kept from me, and the parts I’d taken. I wanted to piece them together and give him back a fraction of the joy he gave me.
Then he began a slow massage on my sensitive skin, and all thought fled my brain. All I could feel was the rough pad of his fingers on my wet flesh and the hard bite of his grip around my upper arm. They melded together into sensation. One thing after another cascaded in. The way he rocked his hips ever so slightly against me as he rubbed me. The heavy breath he pushed against my neck.
And it wasn’t the work his fingers did that set me off. It was his reaction to me. Feeling him lose himself as he encompassed me with his body.
I cried out. I don’t know how or what I said, but he slowed and stilled his hand, and I shivered uncontrollably against him.
He rolled around and snagged a blanket from the end of the bed. I closed my eyes when he covered me up and then pushed the remote to light the fireplace. “Are you okay?” he asked, returning to the bed.
I nodded, floating on a sea of bliss. “Amazing.”
He trailed his gaze over my shoulders and down my arms. His face darkened as his eyes caught on something. I glanced down at the purple bud of a bruise starting on my bicep. “Don’t worry about it. I’m anemic. We bruise easily.”
He shook his head and started to pull away. I sat up. “No. You do not get to ruin this with your stupid belief you are only ever going to hurt me. Get back in this bed and cuddle me like you are supposed to be doing.”
