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“Shit. Forgot the condom.” He leaned over so I could see his face without hurting my neck. “We went without before. You okay with that again, or do you want me to get one?”
I frowned, confused. “You now know what I used to do.”
He shrugged. “You said you were clean. I trust you.”
Okay, so at least one more surprise from this man. I reached up to put my hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it.
“Thank you.” My chest felt strangely tight, and I shifted the tone back to the sexual one that I preferred to this tender intimacy. “I like you bare inside me, so as long as you’re good with it, so am I.”
He curled his body over mine to give me a sweet kiss before positioning my leg at just the right angle to let him slide into me with one smooth stroke. We both let out sighs, the sort that had to do with a contentment, a peace … a coming home. That last thought struck me just as he began to move, and I couldn’t catch my breath, emotions mixing with physical sensation until I felt like every cell in my body was ready to explode, to change into something new, something that could contain everything I had churning inside me.
As he set a fast, but steady, pace, one arm slid around my waist and up to allow his hand to cup one of my breasts. Each thrust was angled so that he rubbed right over my g-spot every time. His fingers played with my nipple, light tugs and pinches that never crossed the line into pain, and I closed my eyes as I tried to absorb it all. It was a different pleasure than I’d experienced with his mouth, but no less intense, no less incredible.
I rose toward another climax and started pushing back against him, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip to hold in my cries. His rhythm faltered, and I knew he was fighting for control, fighting to hold back until I came one more time. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said he would’ve gone in my mouth if I’d tried to blow him, and that was the mental push I needed to let go.
As I soared, he was right behind me, groaning my name against my skin as he pressed his mouth to the side of my throat. We kept moving together in strange little jerks and twists, lost in that primal connection that didn’t need elegance and grace to be deep and meaningful.
And then he was wrapping his arms around me, his cock still inside me as it softened, and I snuggled back against him. I didn’t know what this meant or how it had changed things between us, only that it did. At some point, I knew that would terrify me, but right now, I felt safe and I was going to hold to that for as long as I was able.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Fury
I wasn’t sure who was more surprised when I spontaneously asked Sienna to join me for Thanksgiving with my New York family—her or me. Honestly, I think it was me who felt the shock most acutely when she said yes. She hadn’t canceled, and now, standing outside her building, my heart raced at the prospect of taking her to Maggie and Drake’s for dinner. I could almost taste the anticipation mingling with the aroma of roasted turkey and family chatter.
When Sienna opened the door, my jaw nearly hit the floor. I’d seen her in dresses before, but holy shit, nothing like this. The deep crimson red made her eyes sparkle like diamonds, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. It hugged her body without being too revealing, accentuating her lithe figure and making her legs look a mile long. The heels she wore brought her to just shy of six feet tall, the perfect height for me to ravish those luscious lips of hers. Damn, I was in trouble.
I played it safe, though, and just kissed her cheek before giving her the flowers I’d brought. My first instinct had been to go all out, to make one of those grand, extravagant gestures like filling her apartment with roses, but it had taken me only a few seconds to dismiss that idea. First, because our relationship wasn’t traditional, and second, because that would’ve felt too much like trying to buy her, and she’d had enough of that in her life.
So, I’d opted for a dozen orange and yellow chrysanthemums.
“Thank you.” A pleased smile curved her lips, and I knew I’d made the right decision.
“Apparently, they’re the official flower of November.”
As Sienna turned away to head to the kitchen, I mentally kicked myself. The official flower of November? I was usually great at charming women, spinning words like an artist. Hell, it had practically been in my job description when Cory and I launched our company, since he was the one who got tongue-tied around women. So what the hell had happened to me?
“They’re beautiful,” Sienna said as she placed the flowers in water. “And different from the usual sort. I like that.”
“You look beautiful,” I said. “I mean, you’re always beautiful, but you look even more stunning today in that dress and … shit.” I shook my head.
She laughed softly, coming over to me and taking my hand. “I know what you mean. And thank you. You look very good today, too.”
I smiled and lifted our joined hands to brush my lips across her knuckles. “This is new for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t exactly strike me as a monk.”
I laughed, feeling the tension within me ease a bit. The nerves were still there, but they weren’t as overwhelming. “I mean taking someone to Thanksgiving. I had some semi-serious relationships when I was younger, and sometimes they’d come over for dinner or a birthday party, but I never brought anyone over for the big holidays.”
“So, no pressure, right?” Her tone was teasing, but I caught a hint of concern in it.
I laced my fingers between hers and tugged her into the hallway. “It’ll be fine.”
“Sure,” she said. “Former escort, now working at a sex club, living in an average New York apartment with a roommate, mingling with a well-known fashion designer, a violinist with the Philharmonic, and some other people I assume are as rich as you.”
I bit back a groan, realizing it was probably for the best that I’d kept my mouth shut about London and Spencer. Those two had flown in yesterday and would grace us with their presence at dinner. Christ, Spencer’s royal family connections could make anyone’s knees weak.
“My cousin Carson,” I said, “the designer? His fiancé grew up in a cult. My other cousin Alec is engaged to a teacher. All perfectly normal people.”
