Chapter 10
Facing The Challenge Head On
Heather
After her bold words, there wasn’t anything to do but face the challenge head on. She might be afraid, her lungs might be burning for air, fire ripping through her body, heart hammering violently, legs little more than jelly, but there was no turning back. Rone had given her an out. She hadn’t taken it.
She stood her ground as he turned slowly. His hand fell away from the lock. The primal glow in his eyes was something she had seen before, that day in his pool, when he promised her that next time, next time he would have his mouth where his hand was.
A violent shiver traced its way up and down her spine. A vibrant energy flooded her body so that she nearly vibrated with the force of years and years of pent up desire, of denying herself, of denying him. It had been so very long and now, now they were finally here.
He closed the distance between them with a single stride. He stared down at her, his eyes so dark they were almost black. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Rone reached out and caressed her bottom lip, so very delicately, with his thumb. His other hand fell to her hip. When he pulled her close, ramming her up against his unyielding body, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be gentle. She was thankful for it. She went willingly, her hands breaking the impact as they splayed out over the iron muscle of his chest. She wanted a lot of things, but gentle wasn’t one of them.
Rone crushed his mouth over hers. He kissed her breathless, his tongue lapping at her lips, parting them, pushing into her mouth, stroking and gliding against her tongue. She whimpered, but he swallowed the sound. He kissed her deeper, with all the fury of his passion. He kissed her like he wanted to devour her.
His hand was still on her waist. He slid it around and dug his fingers in. He kneaded the flesh of her ass right before he slammed her closer, so that her pelvis ground against him. She couldn’t help but squirm against all the unending muscle she came in contact with in a futile attempt to relieve some of the building pressure.
“I want you. I want you so damn much,” Rone panted as he ripped his lips away. He peppered her chin and jaw with frantic kisses before moving on to her throat. He licked her, his warm tongue creating havoc with her body, turning her insides into a pile of knots, before he nipped her gently.
She could feel his cock right through his jeans. It was hard and pulsing against her stomach, which only furthered the wild lust ripping through her. She knew where she wanted him and it sure as hell wasn’t in his clothes or pressed up against her stomach.
Rone’s hands roved over her, touching everywhere at once. He pulled up her shirt and she raised her arms so that it slid easily over her head. She blinked, but her vision suddenly had lost its focus. She felt like she was swirling in a haze. She closed her eyes and all she could feel was Rone’s touch, his hands so gently stripping away her bra, working her jeans off, down her hips.
“You’re so perfect,” Rone whispered, right by her ear. She shivered at the heat in his words, at the delicious tickle of his breath against sensitive skin.
Heather expected him to kiss her again, to lift her up and sweep her off her feet and take her to the bedroom. Instead, his hands slid down her body and as she opened her eyes, she watched Rone go to his knees in front of her. His arms wrapped around her waist and he tugged her to him. She was naked except for her panties, a set of red lace that she’d had the good fortune to choose that morning over the usual boring white cotton.
“Hardly,” she protested breathlessly.
He reached up and cupped her breast, his thumb and index finger gliding over her nipple, bringing it to life. She gasped as white hot sensation ripped through her blood. A rush of wetness soaked her panties.
“I beg to differ. I think that you need to be shown how beautiful you are.”
“I’ve been waiting my entire life for you to show me,” she gasped.
He growled and his hand fell away from her breast. It slipped down her waist, his palm so hot and unyielding, demanding though it was gentle. The callouses on his fingers rasped over the silk of her skin and she loved it. Yet another shiver racked her body as the wild storm of lust building inside of her grew.
When Rone pushed her thighs apart, she didn’t resist him. He slid his hand up, tracing a scorching trail up the tender skin, up to the warm, thin lace of her panties.
“You’re so wet,” he said huskily.
Heather felt her face heat up. “For you,” she panted. His hand fell away and she wanted to weep. He ran his fingers up and over her inner thigh before he moved to the other one, tracing out the same maddening pattern. He was fire and he was going to consume her. She’d never wanted anything more in her life.
“What do you want, Heather?” His damn hand never stopped caressing her. He looked up at her and his dark eyes burned with the fires of his own frantic desire. His features pinched tight, in an effort to control himself. She wanted that control to slip away, for there to be nothing between them, nothing but their carnal desires and the heat of their passion.
“You.” The word was broken, pulled from the depths of her soul. She set her hands gently on Rone’s shoulders. The warmth of his skin seeped into her fingertips, the electricity of the touch buzzing up her arms. “I want you to give me everything- everything you promised.”
His eyes burned into hers. He growled low in his throat before he bent his head. “Not here. Not in your entrance way. And not on that damned uncomfortable couch. Take me to your room.”
“I can do that.” Heather laughed and the sound felt good. It let out a little of the crazy tension battling inside. She took Rone’s hand and he straightened. He towered over her, so damn hard and muscular and masculine. He was there. He was real. He was entirely hers. When she led the way to her room, he followed, his footsteps gentle, padding behind her through the living room and through the door that led to a domain that had always been hers alone. “Well, this is it.”
He glanced around once, taking in her bed with the antique white bed frame, the antique dressers she loved so much, the art that covered the walls. It was still light out, though the sun was fading fast. The gauzy black lace curtains on the windows filtered the orange glow so that the room was bathed in gentle, golden tones.
“I want you to lay down on that bed,” Rone breathed. “And spread your legs. And then… I want you to touch yourself.”
“What?” Heather gasped. “While you watch?”
“Yes. I want to see how you like to be pleasured.” His lips turned up in a soft smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ll join in eventually.”
“I… I don’t know.” Heather hedged. She was sure that her face had gone completely scarlet.
“Do you trust me?” Rone’s eyes swept to her face. “Do you trust me enough to let me watch you?”
“In full daylight? It would be easier if it was dark.”
“No. No darkness. The light is perfect right now. I want to see you. All of you. You’re a goddess. Your body is sublime. You have no idea how perfect you are. How you’ve driven me wild all these years with longing.”
She could have bantered back and forth with him all night, but she knew she was going to lose. She wanted him too badly to refuse to do this for him, no matter how self-conscious she was. This was Rone here, the man she’d wanted for years. Surely she could do this for him.
Heather climbed slowly onto the bed. She spread out, her back on the cool white quilt with all the lace edging. Her head hit the pillow. She raised her knees and dug her heels into the mattress. Slowly, so very slowly, she let her legs fall open. She resisted the urge to cover herself, to throw an arm over her naked breasts and just tell Rone to get the hell on top of her already.
When she opened her eyes and glanced at his face, she was awed by the rapture there. While she was busy feeling shy and awkward he was busy looking at her, looking at her as if she really was the only woman in the world. His features were pinched in… in rapture.
“Should I take these off?” Her hand played over her lace panties, her fingers coming away wet even through the fabric. Her face heated again, aware that she was wetter than she’d ever been in her entire damn life and that Rone was watching it all.
“No. Leave them on.”
“Alright.” Heather took a deep breath, filled up her lungs and held it for a second before she released it. Her fingers swirled over her inner thighs, like Rone’s had, before she trailed upwards, over the thin lace panties that covered her hearted sex. She gasped as her fingers came into contact with her clit. She moved away from it as tendrils of shock buzzed through her thighs and down her legs. She moved her hand lower, coating her fingers in her juices before she trailed back up, up over her clit. She arched up under her own touch, her hips responding eagerly to the slightest stimulation. She played down and away before returning to the source of so much pleasure. She panted through the pleasure, lips parted, little hisses of breath escaping.
She was so wrapped up in what she was doing, she almost forgot Rone was there until the bed dipped and his hand closed over hers. He made a noise, something between a moan and a growl, a husky sound of desire that was pulled from the depths of his soul. He gently guided her hand away as he settled between her legs.
A whimper of her own escaped as he pushed her thighs apart and bent his head. His breath was warm on her thigh. She tensed as her eyes slammed shut. She waited, waited for that first contact. When it came, she was still shocked at how amazing it was, the feel of Rone’s glorious mouth on her sensitive flesh, even through the damn panties. A delicious heat unfurled right from the center of her and spread, warming her entire body.
Her hips curled upwards as his tongue explored and worshiped her. She writhed below him, mewling as he lapped at her.
“God, you’re sweet,” Rone moaned.
Heather nearly rocketed out of her skin. She’d never felt such intense pleasure in her life. She was so close to the brink and she hadn’t even taken off her damn panties yet. Rone played over her clit, teased her, tasted her, massaged and tortured her. She was a shameless mess, panting, writhing, bucking into his face.
“Rone!” She begged. “Let me come. Take off my fucking panties and just give me my release.”
He laughed softly as he looked up. “I like that.”
“Like what?” she panted.
“I like when you beg me. “Maybe I should prolong this a little more, until you’re so desperate that you-”
“Rone! Take off my damn panties,” she growled, hardly recognizing her own voice.
“And then what?”
“And then… just touch me. You said you knew what I needed before. You said this would be better than any fantasy I’ve ever had. I want that. I want you to give that to me.”
Rone’s lips curled up and she was almost afraid of what that feral look meant. His eyes darkened dangerously. “Close your eyes then. If it’s your fantasy that you want, I’ll give it to you.”