50
Lose Count
BLAKE SMILED, AND LIVIA felt absolutely sure as he unlocked their room at the bed and breakfast. She waited, knowing what was next from her traditional husband. Blake stepped inside, set Livia’s overnight bag on the floor, and flipped the light switch. He came out and smiled.
His eyes were a little glassy from the champagne Beckett had forced on him. She wondered if his lips still held a bit of bubbly. When she kissed him his perfect taste did have a hint of celebration left in it.
“May I escort you inside, Mrs. Hartt?”
Livia bit her lower lip and nodded.
Blake scooped her up.
To be carried was such a basic thing. And yet it felt…Primal? Almost. Religious? Maybe.
She focused on his deep, even breaths as he maneuvered through the doorway. Livia laughed a little at herself. She was grateful for the simple act of Blake’s breathing.
Blake set her down gently and began exploring the room. Livia took his tux jacket off her shoulders and rested it on the back of a chair. After a moment he emerged from the bathroom with a wicked smile and proceeded to light candle after candle from the supply he’d located in a cabinet. Soon the room flickered with tiny flames everywhere and smelled of hot, pecan-scented wax.
She snapped off the overhead light. Blake hit play on her iPod, which he’d propped up on its speakers, and a slow, sexy song gave Livia tingles.
They stood facing one another, he in his tux, she in her white gown. The night was meant for them, for this. Shyness crept up the train of her dress and found its way to her cheeks. How she could be shy now, with him, was beyond her. Maybe because they were legally required to make love. Maybe because the look in his eyes was that of a hungry man.
“I want to change. Can you help me with this zipper?” she asked.
Blake spun her around, as if they were executing a dance step.
“Lift your hair.” His breath tickled her ear.
She complied with her husband’s wish and held her hair out of the way. He opened the zipper slowly. Livia held her breath as he traced the V her dress framed on her skin.
“Change if you must, but leave the heels on, please.”
Livia wondered if all new brides had their knees refuse to bend after hearing their husband’s lustful requests. Blake gently pulled the tiara from her hair and set it on the nightstand. Livia quickly grabbed her overnight bag, afraid he would distract her from changing. In the bathroom she traded her wedding dress for a cream-colored satin slip with spaghetti straps and hints of lace. She slid her heels back on and checked her hair once more.
She opened the bathroom door to see the room bathed in golden candlelight, pulsing like a beating heart. Blake sat on the bed, his tux tie undone along with the first few buttons of his shirt.
Blake stood when she stepped into the room. He held his hand out, and she gently put her hand and her trust in his. The scent of the candles and the look in his eyes were intoxicating.
He moved to stand behind her. “How many times did I watch you? So many. Wondering what you smelled like, right here.” He lifted her hair and grazed his nose along the nape of her neck. “Exactly like fresh snow.” Blake grabbed two fistfuls of her hair, letting his lips brush her ear.
“And how often did I wonder what you tasted like?” He used her hair to turn her head. He leaned down to sample her lips. “Vanilla and lust.” He leaned down and ran his hands up her calves. “When you wore heels to the station? I couldn’t think for hours about anything other than this curve, right here behind your knee.”
She felt a chill of anticipation. He stood again, this time in front of her, and sculpted her shape against the satin of her nightgown.
“There isn’t a single spot I’ll miss tonight, my wife.” Blake pulled her against him, tilting her head until he could kiss her again. His fingers and lips made her moan. He placed a hand on her stomach and the other behind her neck. “How many times can I make you come before you can’t take it anymore?”
His green eyes smoldered, and his lips smirked. Livia felt her mouth go dry at the thought of his plans for her body.
“I think we might have one to count already.” Livia gave him an embarrassed smile.
“Really? Just from talking? Imagine what’ll happen when you feel my tongue inside you.” Blake backed her up against the bed.
“Get on the bed, Livia. That lingerie is about to be a very pretty necklace.” She sat and waited. Blake removed his tie. He kept his eyes on hers as he threaded the silky fabric around her wrists. “Is this okay?”
Livia smiled at his perpetual concern and nodded. He grabbed her around the waist and put her in the center of the bed, then stood and admired her.
“I love you so much, I think there are burn marks on my heart.” Blake touched his chest.
“Do they hurt?” Livia wondered aloud with a wink.
“Only when I’m not holding you.” Blake trailed his fingertips from her ankle to the top of her thigh.
“Hold me always then. I’m yours.” Livia batted her lashes playfully until one of his hands gripped her gently bound wrists, and the other abandoned her leg to trace her jaw.
Blake kissed her lips until she finally fidgeted with anticipation.
“Wait. I do believe there’s champagne, according to the receipt. Some for you?” Blake left her to open the mini-fridge.
Livia sat up and held out her clam-shaped hands. “How am I going to manage that? You’ve captured me.”
She batted her lashes again. He stopped and looked at her, his hands full of champagne, flutes, and a glass bowl full of strawberries. Blake bit his tongue.
After a deep sigh he gave Livia a command. “Do not do that again. I’m trying to exercise some self-control here.”
Livia pouted and batted her lashes some more.
He smiled and shook his head. “Damn it. You’ll pay for that.”
He put a champagne glass in her hands. Her job was to hold it still, he explained. Blake made an elaborate show of popping the cork and filling her glass. The gentle snaps of bubbles in the gold liquid tickled Livia’s nose.
Blake stopped her from taking a sip. He dipped a deep red strawberry into the liquid instead. He tilted her head back gently with his fingertips and outlined her lips with the wet berry.
Livia parted her lips and tickled the tip of the strawberry with her tongue.
Blake knelt on the bed next to her, mesmerized.
“More champagne, please?” she asked, licking her lips.
Blake re-dipped the berry. She traced a circle around it again with her tongue and then scraped it gently with her teeth. He pulled the strawberry away and let it tumble to the floor. Their kiss tasted of champagne, berry, and victory.
“You ready?” He took the glass from her hands and set it on the nightstand.
“Yes.” Livia shook her head so her hair tumbled around her shoulders.
He pulled her hands above her head by the tie. “Do you remember the pattern, Livia?”
“Blow…lick…bite.” Livia wanted to say something cute, something funny, but he licked his lips and she forgot how to make any more words.
He moved the satin up over her hips, revealing her stomach. He seemed completely absorbed by the sight of her panting. He took his sweet time in removing her panties, sliding them carefully down her legs. She could feel his excitement as he crawled back up her body, pulling the hem of her slip to reveal even more of her with the movement.
He drew the fabric even higher until finally, her breasts were revealed for his eyes. Bare. To him, for him—she was bare.
His mouth took a journey it had been obviously plotting for quite some time. She kept track as he blew a gentle stream on her ear, down her neck, across one breast, circling her nipple slowly, and to the other breast. The other nipple received an up and down pattern. Then he traveled down the side of her ribs to the curve of her hip and slowly across her stomach to linger there.
She began to swear and pray at the same time when he skipped down to her knee. As if his breath could move matter, she opened her legs. He continued his travels to her ankle, then up her other leg until he had nowhere else to go. His five o’clock shadow scratched her inner thigh.
In me. Come in me. Have me.
Livia heard her thoughts echoing in the room and realized she’d said them out loud. His hands gripped her thighs, letting her know this was becoming impossible for him.
“Lick, Blake. That’s next.” Livia watched as he growled on his way to her ear.
“You’re going to kill me. God, you smell so good.” Blake let his clever tongue find its way on her skin.
The ear, the neck, the breasts, slow circles and up and down, the curve of her body, the thighs, the ankle. He stopped the relentless assault to take off his shirt. His chest was hard and tempting, with the scars from his move to save her carved forever on his skin.
Oh, God.
With that, finally, finally, his scratchy jaw and strong shoulders were where she needed him more than anything.
He paused until she locked eyes with him. “Count, Livia. Count out loud when you come for me.”
Blake’s tongue eased her need. Pure talent and muscle. She wanted his hands, she wanted his fingers. But he only gave her his mouth.
“Two, oh, three, God, oh, God.”
Blake pulled himself up to nibble her ear with a look of sheer determination.
“Screw the biting. Just please, just more,” she begged.
Livia realized her hands were free when she found them on his chest, tracing his trauma. His tie was nowhere in sight. Her flailing must have freed her.
He held himself above her, grinding his teeth as she ran her hands along his skin, finding his belt and zipper.
He cupped a handful of her breast, and she stilled, pressing into his hand.
“Biting is next,” he said.
True to his word, Blake continued with her ear, then nibbled her neck.
By the time he was nibbling circles, she was counting again. “Four—your hands, use your hands.”
Blake groaned again. He nibbled his way over to her side, his teeth becoming more insistent. One nip to her inner thigh and Livia arched her back. When Blake’s face nestled between her legs again, he held true to his penchant for patterns: nibbling, testing, driving.
“Five…six…seven. I’m never going to stop…” She was almost panicked in her frenzy.
Blake stood and let his unbuttoned pants fall to the floor. When Livia saw him for all he was worth, she thanked God again. After all the teasing, after the panting and begging, they were here, in front of one another, starting their marriage. Livia stood on the bed and half bounced over to him, towering above his messy hair with her body once again covered by satin. He kicked off his shoes and socks, his eyes never leaving her. She tilted his face toward hers and took the straps off her shoulders, letting the glossy cloth slide to the floor.
“Make me lose count, Blake Hartt.”
Livia let him lift her and guide her body onto him.
Joined. Inside. Together.
“I love you,” they breathed.
His legs were powerful, his balance extraordinary, his sex, perfection. Inside Livia there was a spot made just for him. He laid her on the bed so he could find it again and again—so hard and so completely that she was useless by the time he finally gave in to his own release.
They laughed and cuddled in the wake of their ecstasy. Livia curled around the warmth of his skin, suddenly shivering from their exertion.
“Whoever said marriage is boring didn’t marry you!” Livia kissed his cheek. “Thank you for that.”
Blake kissed her forehead. “That was okay for you?”
“No, that made my orgasms have orgasms, so it was anything but okay.” She smiled.
Blake propped himself up on an elbow to stroke her face. “My beautiful wife, welcome to forever.”
Livia’s eyes filled with grateful tears.
Blake brushed them away. “Now you cry? After I’ve made love to you?”
“It’s just that you’re the kindest person in the world. And you’re here with me. I’ll never stop feeling lucky.” She burrowed her face into his warm hug. She felt his kiss on her hair.
“Livia, the luck belongs to me,” he whispered. “The kindness belongs to you. One lifetime will never be enough for us.”