Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance) (30 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sanniyah

Our
lips crash together and all the hesitation is gone. Neither of us is wondering
if the other wants this any more. Plans be damned, this is what I need, right
now. I need Carter's hands on my skin, his lips on my lips, his ardent, rock
hard need pressing fiercely into my belly as he moves over me, bending me back
until he is on top of me. The need for him is all-consuming, and when his lips
find my neck, I cry out, arching up into him.

"Yes,"
I moan into his ear, nipping and licking at the lobe. He snarls and pulls back,
ripping his shirt off over his head. I scramble up to run my hands over the
hills and valleys of his chiseled torso. He looks like he is carved from cool
marble, but the heat of his skin is all too human. I need to touch him
everywhere. It's like my hands have a mind of their own, stroking, rubbing,
kneading. I slide them around his waist and pull him closer, pressing the whole
length of my body against his.

"No
more bullshit," he growls into my ear, his breath carving a hot line
across my neck. "None of this 'are we, aren't we bullshit,' okay? I'm not
interested in playing games with you, Sanniyah Jones."

I try
to reply, but my words are lost in a frenzied moan as his tongue finds the
fevered peak of my breast. Little spasms of pleasure fire down my spine one
after another as he licks and teases, suckling the hardened pearl in between
his lips. He growls every time I moan, and the sound fills the room with the
song of our longing. I am writhing now, arching and pressing into him in rhythm
with his touch. His fingers delve into my skin, lower and lower until, with a
satisfied groan, he slides them below the waistband of my jeans.

"Ah,
god, I can feel how wet you get for me."

"Worth
facing your worst fears?" I moan.

His
head shoots up and he fixes me with a stare so intense that for a moment I
wonder if I have ruined everything. Then he kisses me, hard.

"Worth
it," he rumbles as he begins to delve into the hot folds.
"So...fucking...worth it."

I bite
back a shriek of pleasure as his finger sinks inside of me. He has me impaled,
wiggling, before he begins to move in and out of me. He is taking his sweet
time, lavishing my body with a deluge of kisses, as if he wants to taste every
inch of my skin. But I am desperate for more. I want more than his finger...I
want him.

I shoot
my hand down and cup it around the bulge in his jeans. He hisses, losing his
rhythm. Smiling up at him, I wriggle down so that I am just below his waist.
"I can make it even more worth it," I smile as I unzip.

Carter's
eyes are wide, his lips parted and his breath coming in measured gasps as he
watches me from above. My fingers are shaking in the frenzy of my need, so it
is harder to unzip him that it should be. Finally, I just yank the waistband
down below his narrow hips without unzipping it at all.

When
his manhood bobs free, I catch it in my lips, swiping my tongue around the head
and inhaling the scent that has gathered around him. He smells of clean water
and sunshine, the scent of the sea all over his skin. It's enough to transport
me right back to that night in his mansion when he threw me over his shoulder.
The memory inflames me. I start to move my head in earnest, taking in as much
of him as I can.

Carter
is straining above me, balancing his whole weight on his hands as he shudders.
I can feel his hips straining not to go deeper.
He wants to fuck me. He's holding back, but he wants to fuck me so
badly.

I pull
my head back with a gasp. "Now," I tell him.

I have
never seen a man move so quickly. In one motion, he has my jeans in a heap on
the floor and my legs spread wide. With a practiced snap, he unrolls the condom
and presses himself against me. I grip the back of the couch and brace myself
as he surges inside of me with a powerful thrust.

The way
his eyes go wide, the way the muscles tense around his neck, the way his lips
part as he looks down to see where we are joined...if I didn't believe his
words when he said he was done with the games, I could just listen to his body.
Something inside of my chest that was tightly coiled suddenly blooms for the
very first time.

"Carter..."
I groan as I clutch his back. "Damn, I've been such a fool."

"If
you're a fool, then I'm a fucking idiot," he growls, pulling back a little
and stroking his hand along my hair. Then he grips it tightly and surges
upwards, making me gasp. "I'm not an idiot, Sanniyah," he snarls as
he thrusts savagely inside of me. "I'm not letting you go."

The
small, delicious part of me that loves his bossiness is reveling right now. He
holds me tight, forcing me to look him right in the eye as he takes me. No
matter how rough, how hard, I still want more. I want him to bruise me with his
kisses; I want the marks of his fingers on my skin. I want him to make me his
and hold me so damn tight that he keeps me together and I'm no longer in danger
of falling to pieces.

Carter
pulls back and grips me under my ass. "Ride me, Sanniyah," he orders,
"I want to see you come on top of me." He rolls, flipping us around
so that I am straddling him and the feeling of power is exquisite.

I rock
forward, grinding him right in that special place. "Oh god, Carter, you're
going to make me come."

"Do
it for me. I want to see your face. No don't slump forward, baby. Let me see
your head thrown back. I'm going to bite your neck while you come on me."

His
words are like a drug, I am instantly addicted. My body can't move unless he's
telling me exactly what to do. Mindless pleasure grips me and suddenly pulls me
over the edge. I throw back my head and let out a strangled scream as the waves
of ecstasy take me.

Carter
surges upward and crushes me to his chest. When his teeth find my neck, I let
out another scream that makes the walls shake. He answers me with a roar and
suddenly we are falling together; shivering and shaking with the aftershocks of
our pleasure.

Carter
sags back on the couch, his torso gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. I lean
forward and lick him, tasting the salt on my tongue. He lets out a dramatic
shiver that makes me laugh.

"Sanniyah."
The way he says my names is like a prayer.

"Yes
Carter?"

"That
was fun."

I have
to laugh again. "Not exactly what I was expecting to come home to."

"Oh
right!" His face stretches into a gleeful smile. "I still owe you
breakfast too!" He fixes me with a look that could melt me right down into
a puddle and then dashes, still completely naked, into my kitchen, leaving me
with nothing to do but bask in the wonder of his return.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Carter

I
wasn't lying when I said I make a mean poached egg. My mother taught me how to
hold them gently in the boiling water, waiting patiently for the heat to do the
work for me. It's not something that can be rushed or forced and I think that's
why I like it.

Sanniyah
doesn't have a blender, something I make a mental note to rectify, so I have to
cheat with a fake Hollandaise. Luckily, I ordered the ingredients from the
grocery. As I blend everything with a fork, I can hear her moving around her
living room and a little shiver goes through me.

It's
not that I live alone. I have Rosa and Benson, but they don't actually..
.live
with me. They hover on the
shadows, being as quiet and deferential as they can be.

Sanniyah
lives
here. She slams around, taking
up as much space as she needs, humming to herself happily as she picks our
discarded clothes off the floor and shakes them out. She runs water and swears
when she drops a container in the bathroom. She collapses back down on the
couch with a sigh, then bounces back up again while muttering something about
emails.

I'm
living
in the same space she is
living
.

This is
more than I've been able to manage in two long, lonely years.

I look
down and realize I have whipped the Hollandaise right out of the measuring cup
and slopped it all over her counter. Wiping it up quickly, I mutter a silent
prayer of thanks that she didn't catch me standing stock still in her kitchen,
just listening to her. Maybe someday I can explain to her just how profoundly
the simple act of
being
with her has
shaken me to my core.
 

She
appears in the doorway to the kitchen, framed like a work of art. "You're
still naked, you know," she informs me.

She's
wearing this silky black robe that makes me want to rip it off of her just so I
can watch it slide along her skin.
 
My cock stirs, and her eyes move down to it, pointedly.

I look
down. "Habits," I explain.

She
gestures to the kitchen window with its direct line of sight to an office tower
across the street. "I guess you don't usually have to worry about giving
people an eyeful," she grins. The way she lets those wide, warm eyes
wander along my body makes the blood rush downward rather alarmingly. She
saunters in, doing this little dance on her tiptoes. "Now, I don't mind.
But they might."

All at
once, the image of a telephoto lens pops into my head.
That office tower would be the perfect vantage point. They could see
me, see Sanniyah, see us kissing, invading our private moment with their
intrusive cameras. They could track me, know where I am...

Shut the fuck up!

I
scream at the paranoid voice at my head, and press myself firmly against Sanniyah,
redoubling her kiss with a passion that makes her gasp. I need to silence the thoughts.
I need to drown in her before I drown myself.

"Are
you okay?"

She is
looking at me, concern written across her face.

"I'm
fine," I tell her brusquely. "Let's eat".

She
watches me carefully as I pour the sauce over the towers of biscuits, bacon and
eggs I have arranged on two plates. I must have made a good show of holding it
together, because she relaxes and smiles as her stomach growls audibly.
"Those look amazing, Carter."

"Dig
in," I say, handing both plates to her. She takes them without question,
heading into the living room, which gives me just enough time to quickly close
the curtains in the kitchen.

The
minute I do, my heart rate returns to normal.

"Who
taught you to cook like this?" Sanniyah demands from the living room. She
is tucked into the couch, the plate cradled in her lap, and her mouth is
stuffed with food.

"My
mother," I tell her as I pull on my pants and settle in near her. "She
was a home-ec teacher through and through. She wanted me to be self-sufficient
but I guess she never figured I'd end up having a cook." I flick a forkful
of eggs together and lean over to her. Sanniyah opens her mouth greedily and
gives me a nice eyeful of her lips closing around my fork. I teasingly try to
pull it back and she growls at me before settling back, licking her lips.
"She started with teaching me breakfast," I continue, warming to the
subject of my mother. "And worked her way through the meals of the day,
but my skills have eroded in the reverse direction. Now that I have Rosa, I'm helpless
when it comes to things like cuts of meat or salad dressings, but I can still
poach an egg. Next time, I'll show you my crepe skills."

"Ooh,"
she smiles appreciatively and then ducks down, veiling her eyes with those
heavy black lashes as my words hang in the air.
Next time.

Yes Sanniyah, I want there to be a next
time. And a time after that and a time after that. I want to see what comes
next with you.

She
sops up the last bit of runny egg with a scrap of biscuit then leans back,
sighing contentedly. My own food has grown cold, but I don't really care. I
just want to watch her as her eyes flutter heavily.

"You're
exhausted," I tell her. It isn't a question.

"It's
been a hell of a day," she answers, sadness curling around her words.

"Go
lie down," I order, grabbing her plate. "I may be rich, but I know
how to wash a dinner plate."

"Breakfast
plate," she corrects, smiling and stretching and yawning like a cat.
"And leave them." She stands up and stretches her arms out to me.
"Come to bed with me."

The sun
has barely set, but I'm not going to say no to holding Sanniyah's body in my
arms. I lie in bed, listening to her in the bathroom, the comfortable, lived in
sounds of being with someone, and once again my heart does that strange,
shuddering, sideways motion. The only way I can explain it is the feeling of an
ice floe breaking away from a glacier.

Sanniyah
appears in the doorway, arms full of pillows. "How many do you want?"
she asks.

"One
is fine," I smile and suddenly I can't hold back any more. "You are
the best damn thing, you know that?"

She
peers at me from behind the pillow and her mouth works like she is trying out
several different responses. The glacier that is my heart stands still as she
finally settles on a response. "You're pretty great too," she finally
says, padding over to me and settling herself under the covers. I fit my body
around hers, loving the way she curves perfectly into mine.

She is
asleep in moments, the gentle sipping sound of her breath lulling me as well. I
haven't fallen asleep on the mainland in over two years and the dark parts of
my mind are right there to remind me of the million people who are surrounding
us right now.

I must
have made a sound, because Sanniyah suddenly shifts in her sleep, rolling over
to face me. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me. I feel her hand brush
gently down my face. Then again. And again.

I
shudder and exhale as her soft touch soothes me. Over and over again, she
gently strokes my face until finally sleep takes hold and I am no longer
afraid.