Read Mr. Insatiable Online

Authors: Serenity Woods

Mr. Insatiable (7 page)

“Tell me how to touch you,” he asked her again, pressing kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. He began with short, light brushes of his fingers, and then when she whispered, “Slower,” he changed to long, firm strokes, pressing against her swollen, sensitive flesh, and she sighed.

She couldn’t believe he was touching her like this. Tender, generous Kit, determined to show her she was capable of passion and love, trying to teach her to trust, to open herself metaphorically and literally to him. He kissed and caressed her until her breathing grew irregular before finally lifting his head. She ached for him, and when he finally undid his belt, she didn’t complain, her trembling fingers joining his as he unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper. Taking out his wallet, he left it on the nearby table as he pushed down his pants with his boxers and flicked off his socks before coming to stand before her.

“Oh my God.” Enya stared. “Kit Fawkes in all his glory. Who’d have thought?”

He chuckled and cupped her face. “No secrets left now, eh?”

“No.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Jeez, Kit, I never guessed you’d be so... Wow.”

His lips curved with amusement. “I guess that’s a better reaction than ‘is that it?’”

She met his gaze. “Oh, you’re so many miles away from ‘is that it?’ I couldn’t tell you.” She saw she’d pleased him with her words, but it wasn’t false flattery. The guy was magnificent. Her heart thumped as he kissed her. Sliding her hands down his body, she closed her fingers around his impressive erection, enjoying his intake of breath as she stroked him. A deep, dark urge to pleasure him rose within her. She wanted to arouse him to the point of no return, to see him come apart, knowing it was because of her. He closed his eyes as she continued to stroke him, his breathing growing quicker, and when she reached up to kiss him, he returned it hungrily, delving his tongue into her mouth.

Suddenly everything became urgent, their kisses insistent and demanding, tongues probing, teeth grazing as they explored each other’s bodies with their hands. He kissed down her neck and stroked his tongue over her nipples, and she clawed his back and tightened her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

Clearly unable to bear it any longer, he turned and picked up his wallet, only to swear as he opened it and found it empty. “I didn’t plan on getting laid,” he explained as she raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you always came prepared.”

“Very funny.” He cupped her face. “I’m so sorry, love. I’ll have to nip down to the gents’ in the foyer.”

“Kit...” She hesitated. “I’ve always used a condom, but I am on the pill for medical reasons, if you want to leave it. It’s up to you.” It was a lie, but she couldn’t get pregnant, so it didn’t matter.

He stared at her. “You’re sure?”

“I’m clean, Kit. I...I have regular checks because of...you know...what happened.”

His eyes flicked over her. His hand was warm on her face. “I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

She nodded. It didn’t surprise her that he was usually so responsible. “It’s up to you,” she said again.

His gaze caressed her, and finally he nodded. “Okay. Last chance then, sweetheart, before I screw you senseless. Are you sure?”

She wanted him so much it was hurting, and his words–and the wolfish smile he gave her–made her shiver. In reply, she took his erection in her hand and stroked him slowly. He leaned his forehead against hers as she did so, his hands curling into fists on the wall. Meeting his gaze, she licked her lips and said, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He pulled her toward him, forgetting about her ankle, and she squealed as she tried to put her weight on it. He laughed and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his hips, and turned to face the room. She thought he was going to take her to the bed, but instead he walked over to the table and, in one swift move, swept the pamphlets, hotel information and other bits and pieces onto the floor before lowering her onto it.

“Here?” she said, giggling and leaning back on her hands as he nibbled down her neck.

“Here.” He kissed her, cupping her head and thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and Enya’s head spun as his erection pressed against her soft folds, parting them. To her surprise, without further ado, he slid inside her in one smooth move.

She gasped, sobering as quickly as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Kit’s blue eyes were wide, and she knew the same thoughts were going through his head.
This is real.
They weren’t playing any longer. Their humor fled. She felt him inside her, all the way up, thick and hard. This wasn’t flirting, pretending to wrestle or splashing each other in the pool–this was sex, skin on skin, grown up and sensual and sexy as hell.

Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, and he leaned forward now, a hand either side of her on the table, and his lips hovered over hers. “Want me to stop?” Before she said anything, he withdrew until he was almost out of her, then slid slowly back in.

It was exquisite, and Enya closed her eyes and let her head fall back, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Ah... Kit... If you stop, I think I’ll die.”

“Thank God.” It was such a heartfelt response she would have laughed if her concentration wasn’t centered on the amazing sensations flooding her body at that moment.

He made love to her, sliding in and out of her so leisurely that at one point she begged him to take her faster, but he just laughed and shook his head, continuing the patient, relentless movement of his hips that was driving her so crazy.

Sometimes he gave short, shallow thrusts, letting the head of his erection tease her tight entrance with a gentle sucking sound that was so erotic, it made her blush yet again as he raised his head to watch her with a sexy smile. Then he’d follow with a long, deep thrust that made her moan and eventually collapse onto her elbows, her head falling back so her hair tumbled across the tabletop. As he continued to move inside her, he ran his hands over her body, playing with her nipples, sometimes bending his head to take one in his mouth, at other times planting kisses up her collarbone to her neck, tasting her skin there and giving her little nibbles that drove her crazy.

She wasn’t sure if was the fact that she was probably a lot drunker than she realized, or whether it was indeed Kit himself–her old and trusted friend–who had removed her inhibitions, but she’d never felt like this while making love, so abandoned and sexy. She kept waiting for him to speed up, for his body to take over, but he maintained his regular pace, gradually slowing down, if anything. Eventually, she realized he was keeping a tight control on his own desire, concentrating on drawing out the pleasure for them both, making it last as long as he could, so confident he could fulfill his promise to make her come that he was happy to make her wait.

Drowsy with lust, spiraling out of control, she eventually let her elbows slide and lay flat on the table, giving herself completely to him. She raised her arms over her head, enjoying watching him as he leaned over her, his impressive arm muscles taut as they bore his weight. She tightened her legs around his waist, encouraging him to thrust deeper, and for the first time he did so, plunging inside her, increasing his pace.

“Ah, Kit...”

His blue eyes were hot, slightly unfocussed. “I know, honey. This is heaven. You are so beautiful.” He bent and kissed her, then slid his hand between them, finding the sensitive spot between her legs with his thumb and beginning to stroke it firmly.

“Oh God...”

He lowered his mouth to her nipple, and the combined sensations of his hot mouth on her breast, firm but gentle fingers, and hard erection sliding into her swollen flesh, drove her over the edge. He lifted his head to watch her, obviously sensing the build of her climax. “Let go, love.” His eyes were filled with affection and desire. “Trust me.”

“I do... Oh!” The orgasm began deep within her, radiating out, and she observed its arrival as if from a distance as her internal muscles tightened around him and she cried out as they squeezed in tiny pulses. It was exquisite, and from afar, she was aware of his deep blue eyes watching her all the way, gaining satisfaction from her climax, enjoying her pleasure.

Only as she floated back down to earth did he relinquish his tight control, and it was her turn to watch with delight as he shuddered, groaning aloud as his body tightened and spilled inside her.

She stretched out beneath him, not an ounce of reservation or reluctance left in her body, completely and wholly his at that moment. It was warm in the room, and she observed how his hair curled damply around his temples, his skin glowing. She watched as his breathing gradually slowed, and eventually his eyes flickered open, his gaze focusing on her body before sliding up to meet hers.

They studied each other for a moment. Then, at the same time, their lips curved.

“Told you,” he smirked.

“No need to be so smug about it.”

Still inside her, he raised a hand to brush back a curl from her forehead before bending to give her a leisurely kiss. “That was nice.” He raised his head to look at her again.

“And that was the understatement of the year. It was fan-fucking-
tastic
.”

He laughed, then winced and withdrew from her, pulling her to a sitting position. She put her arms around his neck, and he lifted her easily, carrying her over to the bed and bending to let her pull back the duvet before placing her on the mattress.

For a brief moment, she wondered whether he’d pull the duvet back over her and start getting dressed before returning to his own room. But he didn’t. He lowered the thermostat, giving her wry smile. Then, to her delight, he slid in beside her, turning her onto her side away from him and drawing the duvet over them as he curled around her.

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her neck. “Are you okay?”

“I’m incredibly okay,” she whispered, tired, but so very, very happy.

He nibbled her ear. “You’re a good shag.”

She laughed. “You too. I can see how you got your reputation. No wonder you like doing it so much, if it’s always like that.”

He lifted his head then and surveyed her thoughtfully. “It’s not always like that.”

“No?” Her heart beat faster.

He didn’t elaborate. He pulled the pillow down a bit to make himself comfortable and kissed her shoulder. “You don’t want me to go, do you?”

“Oh Kit, of course not.”

“Good. I don’t think I’d be able to find my room anyway.” He nuzzled her hair sleepily. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Jeez, couldn’t you tell?”

He chuckled. “I thought maybe you’d faked it.”

“I’m not that good an actress.”

“I’m glad.”

He said nothing, and she thought he’d fallen asleep. His arm was deliciously heavy across her stomach, his chest warm against her back. She supposed that maybe in the morning they might regret what they’d done, but right now, at that moment, she couldn’t have been more pleased.

Unexpectedly, he mumbled, “You’ve got a nice ass.”

Her lips curved sleepily. “You too, sweetie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.”

“I noticed.”

She felt him give a short laugh. And then sleep threw its blanket over them, and she drifted into darkness.

 

 

 

Chapter

6

 

They’d forgotten to draw the curtains. The early morning bright sunshine woke Kit, and he blinked as he opened his eyes.

For a brief moment, he couldn’t remember where he was as he looked around the unfamiliar room. Then he glanced at the woman in his arms and everything came flooding back.

She was still facing away from him, pressed along him from chest to knees, her red hair spread over the pillow. Her body was soft, warm, and relaxed against him. Her ribcage rose and fell with her regular, slow breaths.

What was the time? He lifted his head and looked at the hotel clock on the cabinet on her side of the bed. Seven fifty-two.
Eek
. Breakfast was supposed to be at eight thirty, so they should think about getting up. He lay back down, needing a moment to think about what had happened before he woke her.

Jeez, how drunk was I?
What on earth had he done? She’d broken up with her boyfriend, she was vulnerable, hurting and, yes, pretty drunk too. And had he given her a shoulder to cry on and wiped away her tears? No, he’d talked her into bed and screwed the living daylights out of her. No–correction–he hadn’t even had the decency to use the bed. He’d taken her on the table, for crying out loud.

He turned his head to look up at the ceiling, resting his arm on his forehead. He wanted to strangle himself. He’d convinced her he was trying to help her, but
you weren’t so bloody noble once she got her clothes off, were you?
He vaguely remembered staring at her breasts like a fourteen-year-old looking at his first porn magazine. Giving a silent groan, he closed his eyes. He was supposed to be her friend. How could he have used her like that?

But it worked
, his heart insisted. He couldn’t stop a smile creeping onto his lips as he thought about the look on her face when she’d come. The expression of surprise, of exhilaration almost, at the realization that there wasn’t anything wrong with her. She wasn’t ‘damaged goods.’ She’d just needed the right...encouragement.

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