Jonathan
I pulled her into my bedroom and she stopped momentarily to look around it as I flooded the room with soft light, before resting her gaze back on me.
Her lips were full and parted as I closed the space between us, drawing her up towards me to kiss her. She responded instantly, giving herself up to me, and I pushed her back against the wall as pleasure overtook my body.
She moaned slightly and I swallowed every sound she made, running my hands over her curves, desperate for her to be naked.
I took my lips from hers and kissed down her neck as her body trembled beneath mine and I pulled away slightly to look at her. She opened her eyes, searching mine, the unspoken question of why I stopped on her lips.
I laced my fingers with hers, surprising myself at the sentimentality of the action. Sex was sex to me. I loved to make a woman come. I loved to watch their faces and feel their bodies react to the pleasure that I’d given them, but now with my fingers entwined with hers, I wanted her connection. I wanted her to want me. I wanted more than just sex from her. Where the hell had that come from?
I let go of her hand and stepped back, confused by my own thoughts and feelings and what exactly I wanted from the professional relationship that we’d embarked on.
I’d gone from wanting to please my mother and make her last months full of excitement and happiness planning my wedding and seeing me get married, to becoming a man I barely recognized, caring about a woman I barely knew from a hotel bar.
Puzzled, she walked past me, my eyes following her and sat down on the bed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I just…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” she said without making eye contact with me. “I can just go back to my room and we’ll start tomorrow as another day.”
“Kate…”
She shook her head.
“We can go back and pretend this evening never happened and we can promise not to mention it again.”
I knew what she was thinking. She thought I was playing with her emotions, with her feelings, and treating her like the other women in my past, the women that didn’t mean a single damn thing to me. She had no idea that it couldn’t be further from the truth. She was the only woman that had ever meant more to me than just sex. Pulling away from her had nothing to do with my running away from commitments and labels; it was more about being shocked by what I was feeling. I wanted to understand it more. I wanted to understand why out of all the women I thought were my type and I thought I would have wanted, why she was the one? Why was she the one that made me think twice about the man I knew I was?
I crossed the room and sat down beside her. She didn’t move, but I heard her inhale deeply as I moved closer to her. I couldn’t let her go. Not now.
“Stay, Kate. I want you to stay.” I pushed away the thick hair that framed her face and kissed the back of her neck. “What do you want?”
“I…” her voice wavered as my hand went up her leg and under her dress. “What about our dinner on the beach and the butler?”
“What about him?”
“Won’t he…?”
“Do you want me?” I whispered firmly, interrupting her. “Is that what you want?”
She nodded quickly, almost eagerly and it was the only signal I needed to continue as I pushed her back gently and kissed her, my lips grazing against hers soft enough to leave her wanting more. I hooked my fingers around the top of her panties and pulled them along her legs until they were off on the floor. Then my fingers stroked back up her smooth skin before I found her clit.
She moaned as I touched it, fueling my desire to hear more of her and I couldn’t get enough as I slid my fingers inside her. She quivered against me, pulling my lips back to hers, and we kissed.
It wasn’t the hard, sex-fueled kissing I was used to. Instead it was deep, meaningful, and sensual, something I didn’t even know I was capable of doing until Kate had turned up in my life. Now with it came a barrage of emotions that I’d managed to spend my adult life avoiding, only this time with a real woman in my arms I almost welcomed it.
Oh hell!
I knew I was in dangerous territory and that if I didn’t pull away right then, this one kiss could possibly change the whole dynamic of our arrangement.
If only I was capable of knowing how to stop wanting her. If only I could let her go.