Chapter
FOUR
The snow globe fell from Julia’s hands and bounced once, unbroken, on the thick carpet.
This.
This right here was what she wanted. What she’d been wanting for a very long time. For him to take control, to take her, to surrender to the desires she’d kept concealed for too long. The stifled longings broke free… either a flock of butterflies rising into the sky or the opening of Pandora’s box, she didn’t know which.
All she knew right now was that his lips were on hers, and his hands were holding her in place. Disbelief and outright pleasure washed through her. She wanted to fall into him like she was diving through a cloud of everything warm and good. Because… oh my God.
Though their unusually intimate talk and his closeness had warmed and softened her, the touch of his lips fired her with heat, melting away the brittle emotions hardening her insides. She curled her fingers into his arms, stunned by the realization of a moment she had imagined more often than she ever wanted to admit.
Warren Stone was kissing her under the mistletoe. And she was letting him. More, she was kissing him back, surrendering to the spicy taste of him, her head spinning with the intoxicating combination of wine and the man she had secretly craved for so long.
He glided his mouth easily over hers, urging her lips apart, sliding his tongue against hers with an expertise that jolted her with desire. Lord in heaven, the man knew how to kiss, the pressure of his mouth firm yet gentle, his possessive grip on her neck keeping her in place.
Not that she wanted to move. The familiar scent of his shaving cream—orange and spice—filled her nose. He trailed his lips from her mouth to her cheek, his whiskers abrading her skin deliciously. Julia shivered. Long-dormant hunger flooded her veins. He brought his mouth back to hers, his big hands sliding up her midriff to her breasts. Her nipples stiffened against his palms, and a moan escaped her throat.
“Christ, you feel good.” His voice was rough, his body lined with tension.
Dizziness swept through her. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel—his hands on her breasts, his lips against hers, his body… oh, his body.
How many times had she imagined what his broad shoulders and chest would feel like under her fingers? How many times had she admired how beautifully his tailored suits fit his muscular physique, and then pictured herself unknotting his tie and stripping off his jacket? How many times had she secretly fantasized…
She placed a trembling hand on his chest. Good lord. He worked out regularly and had been increasing his climbing and bouldering efforts, but she hadn’t expected him to be so… powerful, a wall of hard, sculpted muscle coiled with leashed strength. His heart hammered against her palm, a fast-paced rhythm matching hers.
What would it feel like to ease her hand under his shirt, touch his taut skin and explore his astonishingly solid body? She pulled in a ragged breath, her senses swimming. He lifted his mouth from hers, his breath puffing hot against her lips, his brown eyes darkened with urgency.
“You’re beautiful.”
Pleasure soared through her. He frequently told her she looked great, he liked her outfit, whatever, but never before had he told her she was beautiful while gazing at her as if he wanted to consume her. And she wanted him to. Wanted him to swallow her up, rid her of all thought, electrify every part of her being.
He lowered her to the floor, his mouth locked back to hers. She went willingly, heedless of any resistance, a dandelion puff surrendering to the force of the wind.
His kiss was everything she’d imagined it to be and more—a caress, a claiming, a question. Soft nibbles at her lips alternating with the slow, probing quest of his tongue. His hands tightening in her hair, his scruff grazing her chin. Pulling back and advancing. Feather-light touches of his mouth on her cheeks, her forehead, then back to take her lips.
Thirteen—no, thirty—years folded and collapsed in time, distilling to this moment alone. She slid her hands to his back, gripped his shirt, arched up against him. Her breasts brushed the hard wall of his chest, stimulating her tight nipples. She squeezed her thighs together. God, already she was wet and starting to ache.
He broke the kiss and levered himself over her, one hand on the floor beside her head. His gaze probed hers as if he were already stripping her naked. She parted her legs, letting him fit his body against hers.
Oh. He was hard, an impressive bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. Emboldened, she ran her hand over his chest, rubbing her fingers across his hard abs, then down to his erection. A groan rumbled through him, but the instant she closed her hand around him, he grabbed her wrist.
Julia froze. “What’s wrong?”
He cursed under his breath, his mouth tightening with self-restraint. “If you want me to stop, I—”
She almost laughed, caught in a wave of dizzy excitement. She couldn’t believe how light she suddenly felt, as if all the frustrations of the past week had lifted from her heart and flown away like birds.
“Warren,” she breathed. “What I want is for you to finish what you started.”
His mouth curved with a smile, his brown gaze softening.
“What I want…” he pressed his hand to the side of her neck, lowering his mouth to hers again, “…is you.”
He slid his hands over her breasts, his breath increasing. He stroked lower, across her midriff and between her legs. He cupped his hand over her, easing one long finger right into her cleft. Julia gasped. Lust exploded through her. She’d almost forgotten what a man’s touch felt like on the most intimate parts of her body—and he was only touching her on the outside of her clothes.
She ran her trembling fingers over the length of his erection where it rested against his thigh. A shiver of trepidation rattled through her because… heavens, the man was big. The thick ridge of his cock pulsed heat clear through his trousers, sending a responding throb right to her core. His breath skimmed over her like a hot breeze. But instead of hauling her close again, he put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him.
Her heart hammered at the gleam in his brown eyes—dark, lustful, possessive. Electric currents, burning stars, the center of a candle flame. She’d known him longer than she’d known anyone, harbored everything from a secret crush to outright desire for him. There was no one she trusted more.
She tugged his shoulders and pressed her lips to his again. He pushed his hands under the hem of her shirt, his fingers gliding over her bare skin. Shivers rained down her spine. Up, up… his hands closed over her breasts, plucking at her taut nipples.
Julia shifted, her breath coming faster, all rational thought spilling away. Warren lowered her back onto the floor, his weight pressing her into the carpet, his cock throbbing against her thigh. She wound her arms around his shoulders as he lowered his head to kiss her neck, her throat, trailing his lips back to her mouth.
“Wait.” Julia eased away from him slightly to shed her T-shirt. A rush of purely female satisfaction filled her when he groaned at the sight of her lingerie-clad breasts.
“If you only knew how often I’ve imagined you naked,” he muttered, undoing the bra clasp with an expert flick of his fingers. Her breasts popped out, nipples sticking straight up.
“Ah fuck…” He bent to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.
Sparks flamed in her blood. Julia gasped, arching upward and tightening her fingers into his shirt. A hint of disbelief rose in her at the realization that Warren was flicking his tongue over her nipple and sucking the tight little bud, but everything else about him—his presence, his scent, his body—was achingly, unbearably familiar.
He pulled away from her only long enough to grip her yoga pants and strip them off her legs, revealing the black lace panties hugging her hips. His breath hitched.
“La Perla, huh?” He ran his gaze across her body, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I knew you could cross that one off your list several times over. But you could make cheap lingerie look incredible. You make everything incredible.”
Stunned, Julia watched as he lowered his head to press kisses over her midriff, her belly button, down to her mons covered in sheer lace. Heat sizzled through her every time his lips made contact with her skin. He stroked his hands up and down her thighs in a mesmerizing rhythm, lulling her into a haze of sensual need.
She twisted her hand into his thick hair, brushing it back from his forehead. Her breath caught when he hooked his fingers into her panties and tugged them off. Then she was naked, and he was still fully clothed in his tailored suit and tie, and God in heaven, had any man ever looked at her with such smoldering lust, such hot possession, as if he’d unlocked and freed a thousand desires?
He stroked her bare legs, dipping his fingers toward her pussy. An intense feeling of vulnerability washed over her. She tensed, bringing her legs together. He stopped her, gently pressing his hands against her inner thighs.
“Don’t hide, Jules.” His voice husky, he traced little circles on her skin. “Not from me.”
Her heart fluttered like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. And then he lowered his head to kiss her again, and all doubt slipped away like water over smooth, polished rocks. She moaned into his mouth. Their tongues met, tangled, danced. She lifted her knees to hug his hips, bringing his erection right up against her pussy.
“Oh, God, Warren.” Julia gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as that hot ridge of flesh pressed against her pulsing clit. She writhed against him, already feeling her arousal mounting. “I could come just from… oh…”
“Do it,” he ordered, bringing one hand up to twist her nipples. “Work yourself on me. Show me how much you want it.”
Sweat broke out on her skin. She gripped the front of his shirt and rubbed her spread pussy against his cock. He was so fucking hard, his erection throbbing heat straight into her blood. The material of his trousers abraded her sensitive folds, simulating her arousal higher and higher.
“Warren…” She squirmed harder in an increasingly desperate drive for that final explosive release.
He shifted, changing their positions enough that her clit rubbed against just the right spot. She fisted her hands in his shirt and wrapped her legs around him, squirming frantically on his cock until pleasure burst through her like a thousand shooting stars. She shrieked, her body trembling and arching as Warren’s deep voice rained into her ear and the sensations slowly ebbed.
“Holy shit.” Panting and sweating, she fell back against the floor and stared at him in a daze. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”
A smile curved his mouth. He rose to his knees. A damp spot spread over the front of his trousers, evidence of her orgasm. A hot flush rose to her cheeks.
He unbuckled his belt and stripped it off. Julia swallowed to ease her dry throat, mesmerized by the deftness of his hands as he unbuttoned his pants and worked the zipper. She stared in awe when he pushed the trousers over his hips, revealing navy boxer briefs that did nothing to conceal the massive length and breadth of his cock.
“God, Warren,” she whispered.
He moved forward, straddling her hips. “Take them off.”
Trembling, she hooked her fingers into the waistband and tugged the boxer briefs down. His erection bobbed upward like a living creature, directly in her line of sight. Long and straight with a smooth, veined shaft and thick, glossy knob, his cock looked as if it had been made for pleasure. Her pleasure.
Lust and more than a little trepidation flared through her. She swallowed again, her heart hammering. She gestured to his shirt and tie.
“Take it off,” she said, unable to prevent her pleading tone. “I want to see you naked.”
He pulled at the knot of his tie and pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor with the pile of other clothes. His gaze never leaving hers, he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, revealing a sculpted expanse of chest and shoulders that would have put a Greek statue to shame. And though Julia had a vivid imagination, she’d never pictured Warren looking like this.
His muscular shoulders sloped to thick, solid pecs and a washboard abdomen whose ridges she wanted to lick one by one. With his cock sticking straight out like an invitation, he was suddenly less the Warren she’d always known and more a crazy hot stranger with a body that could take her places she’d never been before.
“You’re… you’re really built.” She lifted a tentative hand to touch his chest. “Like built. I had no idea.”
“Side-effect of nearing retirement.” Warren put his hands on either side of her head. “More time to work out.”
Though surely a physique like his required an Olympic-sized workout, Julia didn’t bother questioning him further. Instead she ran her fingers over his chest and traced all the grooves of his muscles as if mapping the landscape of his body.
Warren didn’t move, letting her have her fill of exploring him before she finally stroked down to his jutting cock. She closed her fist around his shaft and squeezed, emboldened by his sharp intake of breath. She was an experienced-enough woman, but God knew she’d never had a man as powerfully virile as Warren Stone was turning out to be. The realization both excited and unnerved her.
Warren tangled his hand into her hair and levered his body over hers. In one movement, he brought them together, their legs and arms twining and flexing. The full contact of his naked body against hers flooded Julia with fresh desire and pleasure. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as he edged his hands between her thighs. He dipped his forefinger into her cleft, circling her clit with his thumb.
“Wet and hot,” he murmured, biting gently down on her collarbone. “Exactly the way I’d imagined my ice queen under all that frost.”
She arched her hips into his touch. She couldn’t tell him that no other man had ever made her melt so effortlessly. He worked his finger into her, groaning when she clenched around him.
She pressed her lips to his shoulder, scraped her fingernails down his back. Urgency flared, prickling over her skin like a shower of sparks. His muscles tightened, and his cock jerked against her thigh. He lifted his head with a sudden curse.
“Condom,” he muttered. “I—”
“It’s okay.” Julia tightened her hands on his arms. “I’m past that now, and I haven’t been with a man in over a year, and I know you’re clean too. I want to feel you inside me without a condom, so please do it.”
He lowered himself back over her. His gaze collided with hers. Time froze.
Julia’s heart pounded, her breath emerging in rapid gasps. Disbelief descended over her, and she half-expected the fog would lift to reveal that this was all a mulled-wine-induced dream, but oh my god… that was definitely Warren spreading her open with his fingers before easing his thick cock inside her. She fumbled for something to grasp and closed her hand around the leg of the coffee table. Her blood lit with sensation, every part of her body stretching and pulsing with desire.
He braced his hands on either side of her head, his jaw tight with self-restraint.
“God, Warren.” Julia drew in a breath. Sweat dripped between her breasts. “Do it. Fuck me.”
With a low grunt, he sank into her, his cock filling her with such exquisite pressure that the fog of lust intensified, driving her toward bliss. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. He pulled back and pushed forward, easing into a hard, swift rhythm that stimulated her every nerve. She fell into the friction and thrust of their bodies, the scent of Warren filling her head, the rough abrasion of the carpet. She gripped his back, his arms, opened her mouth for his bruising kisses, and wondered at the power of his body, the flex and pull of his strong muscles.
Time slipped away. Bliss rolled and swept through her again, causing her to bite down on his shoulder to quiet her instinctive scream of pleasure. She sensed his own ascent, his shout guttural and hot against her neck as her body took the full force of his powerful release. He rolled to her side, the only sound the heavy cadence of their breath.
Julia still felt him inside her, as if he’d imprinted himself on her body the way he already had on every intangible part of her.
The words rose up from the depths of her being, the center of her soul, the soft, gentle area around her heart she so rarely let anyone see.
“I…”
The sound of her own voice, the simple I, broke through the fog of lust. She swallowed. A sudden alarm dispelled her lingering pleasure. She pushed the words down deep, horrified that she’d almost confessed.
She sat up slowly, trying to ignore the temptation to surrender to the warm strength of Warren beside her. She wanted to curl into him, rest her hand against his chest, slide her leg between his.
As she reached for her discarded shirt, she caught sight of the framed photo of Warren, Rebecca, and their children that she’d left on the coffee table.
Her heart seized. Tendrils of cold snaked through her, turning her blood to ice.