04 - Born to be Wilde.txt (18 page)

Knowing he couldn't leave her alone, he kicked off his shoes and removed his own T-shirt and jeans. Keeping his black boxer briefs on for a number of reasons, he joined Lora in the glass enclosure, then shut the door to keep in the rising steam. Wrapping his arms securely around her back, he pulled her as close as two bodies could get, to generate a more natural, instinctive kind of heat.

She was rigid and unyielding at first due to how cold she was, but as the water and heat lamps bathed her in warmth and gradually chased away her chill, fear, and shock, she grew soft and pliant in his embrace. Water cascaded over her shoulders and between their bodies as he caressed his hands down her back, then up again in slow, soothing strokes. Before long, she released a soft, shuddering sigh and relaxed completely against him, trusting him to keep her safe and protected.

From now on, he swore, he would.

Her calm, slack response was exactly what he'd been trying to achieve, yet he'd failed to take into consideration the intimacy of the situation once the urgency of raising her temperature was no longer an issue. Now she was burrowed close with her head on his shoulder and her lips mere inches away from his neck. Then there was the soft cushion of her breasts pressing against his bare chest, and the exquisite feel of her silky smooth belly and supple thighs aligning so perfectly with his own.

Despite his best efforts to remain unaffected, arousal thrummed heavily through his veins. His cock pulsed with need, and he was grateful that he'd worn his boxer briefs, which was the only thing keeping his raging hard-on confined and under a semblance of control.

Needing some kind of distraction, he swept his hands up the provocative curve of her spine and beneath the fall of her hair. The heavy strands were wet, and the nape of her neck was the one place that was still cold to the touch. Tangling his fingers around those tresses, he gently tipped her head back so that the spray soaked her hair and warmed her scalp. With a low, appreciative moan, she closed her eyes and lifted her chin even more, so that the water cascaded over her face, down her slender throat, and across the generous rise of her breasts.

She looked so incredibly sensual, like a water nymph with her sleek, wet skin and the ribbons of steam swirling all around her. His gaze took in her slightly parted lips, then slid down the arch of her throat—and came to a stop on the red slash on her neck. One of the thugs had exerted enough pressure to leave a mark, but not enough to badly break the skin, thank God.

Still, he couldn't stem the surge of anger that gripped him anew—directed at the men who'd terrorized her, at Zach for involving Lora, but mostly at himself for allowing something so horrendous to happen when he'd sworn to keep her safe and protected.

The attack never should have happened on his watch, and knowing she could have been hurt much worse, he nearly choked on a fresh wave of anguish and remorse. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently stroked his fingers along the slight abrasion on her neck. Her skin was so soft, so delicate and fragile, and he couldn't help but feel solely responsible for putting her through such trauma.

"I'm sorry, Lora," he rasped, his voice sounding like rough sandpaper. "So, so sorry."

She brought her head back down, and her water-spiked lashes lifted, revealing beautiful green eyes that were far more lucid than they'd been ten minutes ago. Her face was flushed with warmth, and she met his gaze with a small smile that was so incredibly sweet and guileless.

"I'm okay," she said, misunderstanding his apology for concern, and he couldn't bring himself to explain the truth just yet.

As they stood beneath the pelting spray, a slow, seductive awareness gradually took hold. He could feel the subtle change from relaxed to aroused in Lora in how she shifted against him and the way her flattened palms slid around his waist and up the slope of his spine. He watched as she licked droplets of water from her bottom lip, and felt himself respond to the desire darkening her eyes. His cock throbbed and ached, the material of his boxer briefs too tight and confining against his stiff shaft.

"Joel…" she whispered, the one word filled with a wealth of emotion that struck a chord deep within him, too. Eyes closing, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Her mouth was soft and yielding, a heavenly temptation he couldn't resist, so he didn't even try. Her lips parted, and he accepted the invitation to deepen the connection, to slide his tongue inside and curl around hers, dragging her into a hunger so dark and hot he burned with the intensity of it.

He kissed her with a fierce urgency born of knowing that she was truly okay and unharmed. Kissed her with an abundance of relief and gratitude and something else far more profound that echoed in the farthest recesses of his soul—an emotional, intimate bond that rocked the foundation of the solitary man he'd always been.

Driven by pure sensation, encouraged by the uninhibited way her fingers dug into the muscles bisecting his back and the arch of her hips against his, Joel backed her up against the shower stall, pressed the length of his body along Lora's lush curves, and ravished her mouth with an overwhelming amount of passion and heat. His craving for her blazed through him like an out of control wildfire—a reckless, insatiable need he could no longer deny.

More. He needed more of Lora. Needed to touch and taste and savor every nuance that was uniquely hers.

With only that thought in mind, he tore his mouth from hers and trailed his lips along her jaw, licked his way down to the base of her throat where her pulse beat strong and steady. She moaned softly and sifted her hands through his wet hair, twisted the too-long strands around her fingers and guided his mouth lower, to the firm swells of her breasts. He followed willingly, giving her what she wanted and what he so desperately needed.

He drew a taut nipple into his mouth, flicked the rigid tip with his tongue, and sucked her deep and hard. With his hand he squeezed and kneaded her other breast, traced lazy circles around her areola with his thumb before lightly pinching and rolling the firm, aroused nipple between his fingers. She gave a helpless, impatient whimper, the restless sound urging him to venture toward more forbidden territory.

With his large hands, he traced the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips, then dragged his thumbs over her belly before sliding his hands around to the base of her spine and down her perfect ass to the backs of her thighs. The feel of her smooth, sleek skin against his palms was a luxury he'd denied himself for too long, and he memorized every sensual curve of her body, along with the sweet, uninhibited sighs that accompanied his bold exploration.

If he thought touching her was pure bliss, then allowing his mouth to follow in the same direction as his hands and tasting her warm, wet skin was like experiencing a slice of heaven. He licked and gently bit his way down to her stomach, and dipped and swirled his tongue in her navel. Another erotic moan echoed in the shower stall, and the slender fingers still wrapped in his hair tugged him lower still.

Instinctively, he dropped to his knees in front of her, his heart racing a mile a minute as a heady surge of desire tore through him. Knowing what she wanted, what she needed, he took one of her hands and wrapped her fingers around the small metal bar built into the shower to help her keep herself steady and balanced, then draped one of her legs over his shoulder to give him better access to her.

The water poured down on both of them, and curls of steam immersed them in a sultry warmth as he leaned forward and laved the inside of her thighs, slowly, leisurely, until he reached the very heart of her femininity. Her sex was soft and swollen, and he parted the plump folds of flesh with a slick caress of his tongue that had her arching her hips against his mouth, seeking and silently begging for release.

He closed his eyes and groaned, doubling his efforts to give her exactly that. He drew her clit into his mouth, used his tongue to stroke and caress and increase her pleasure. Her fingers knotted tighter in his hair and a soft mewling sound escaped her lips. In response, his balls drew up hard and his cock jutted painfully toward his belly, aching with the need to be buried to the hilt inside her, to feel her convulse around him as she came.

Knowing that wasn't going to happen, he entered her with his tongue instead. Deeply. Relentlessly. With heat and possessive intent.

She inhaled sharply, jolted against him in shock, then gave herself over to his erotic assault. Before long, he felt her thighs quiver, felt her legs buckle as her orgasm crested, heard her lusty moan as she tumbled headlong into that powerful rush of sensation rippling through her. He kept her from completely collapsing with a strong hand pressed to her stomach, and when he was certain he'd given her every last bit of pleasure he could, he stood back up and braced his hands on the wall on either side of her head, not trusting himself to touch her when he was harder than granite and there wasn't much left of his self-control.

He lifted his head and looked into her face, expecting to see a languid, sated expression. Instead, her eyes were bright with a desire that didn't bode well for his good intentions. Neither was the way she slid her hands around to his backside and slipped her fingers beneath the elastic band of his boxer briefs. She grasped his buttocks and pulled his hips to hers, so that his confined erection nestled right at the crux of her thighs. Right where she was hot and slick and ready for him.

She leaned into his chest and pressed her lips against the side of his neck. "Joel," she whispered as she twined one leg around his, aligning them even more intimately. "I want you inside of me."

There was so much longing in her voice, the kind that could easily chip away at his resolve if he let it. He curled his hands into tight fists against the wall. "Lora—"

Whatever he'd been about to say went up in smoke as her fingers followed the waistband of his briefs back to the front, then dipped inside and wrapped around his erection. She stroked once, twice, and glided her thumb over the swollen head of his dick. His heart hammered in his chest and the muscles in his stomach clenched as he resisted the urge to thrust into her snug grasp.

"Please," she said huskily, her gaze soft and imploring. "I need to feel pleasure, not the terror and fear of tonight. I need you!"

A terror and fear he'd been responsible for, and it was that thought that made him want to do whatever possible to chase away those awful memories for her. Except… "I don't have any condoms," he rasped. He hadn't needed any lately, and he hadn't dared to buy any when Lora had presented such a temptation. It was the one thing, the last thing, that was keeping him from fulfilling her wish.

"I'm on the Pill." The knowledge snapped the last thin thread of his control, as did her next words. "Please don't tell me no. Not tonight."

He groaned as her tenacious grip on his shaft and the sluice of warm water created a slick, suctioning sensation that made him crazy-wild to come. With her. In her. Done resisting what he wanted so badly, he gave up the fight. Pushing all ten fingers into her wet hair, he crushed his mouth to hers.

There was nothing slow and sweet about the way he kissed her. Greedy and ravenous, he tilted her head for a better fit and let loose all the pent-up hunger, need, and lust clawing at him. Now he took without hesitation or reserve, then took some more, and she was right there with him, giving him her mouth, her tongue, and soon, her soft, willing body. A sense of urgency and impatience built between them, hotter and more vital than anything he'd ever experienced. It made his head spin and his erection throb and pulse.

He could have easily taken her right there, in the shower, pushed up against the tiled wall with her thighs riding his hips, but he wanted her beneath him. Wanted leverage to get as deep inside her as he could get.

With that in mind, he blindly reached out to shut off the shower and started to pull back, but she mewled in protest and clung to him. Undoubtedly she believed he was going to end things, and he sought to reassure her.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured against her lips. "I'm not done with you yet." He was beginning to wonder if he ever would be.

He silenced the answer to that question with another aggressive, soul-searing kiss and maneuvered them both out of the glass enclosure. The bed was much too far away, and he pushed her down to the thick, plush rug laid out on the floor. After quickly shucking his soaked boxer briefs, he joined her.

Nudging her legs wide apart, he settled between her sleek thighs and slid up and over her wet body. She splayed her palms on his chest, glided them up to his shoulders and around his neck as she arched against him and hooked her calves against the back of his thighs, urging him to complete the act. He drove into her in a seemingly endless stroke, and growled deep in his throat as she took every hard, solid inch of him. Until he didn't know where he ended and she began.

The pleasure of being inside Lora was so intense, so surreal, that he shuddered and tried to absorb the moment, how agonizingly perfect, how incredibly right, she felt beneath him. Hot, slick, tight. Bracing his forearms by her shoulders, he framed her face in his hands, grazed her plump bottom lip with his thumb, and watched as her gaze darkened with need.

Then she closed her eyes, whispered his name, and rolled her hips sinuously against his, beckoning him to finish what he'd started.

He wanted this to last. Wanted to linger and savor and watch her as she came again. His cock, however, refused to take the slow, leisurely route, and because his overly aroused body demanded he do so, he withdrew and surged back into her, again and again, long, hard strokes that increased in power and strength and depth.