A Seductive Proposal (14 page)

He was fully erect and desire spun through her all over again as she looked at the heavy crown supported by the thick hard shaft. She let her gaze drift back up to his face. Tears stung her eyes. Why she felt like weeping, she didn’t know, but he was beautiful to her.

* * * * * * * * *

Quint couldn’t read Carly’s expression as she lowered her elbows and reclined on the bed. She wanted him. He knew that much. But she wasn’t smiling. She seemed serious and upset.

“Regrets?” he asked, unwilling to force himself on her even though if she did any rejecting right now he’d have to tear down one of the suite walls just to keep away from her.

“No,” she said. “I want this. You’re just so gorgeous. My eyes hurt looking at you.”

His gaze drifted over her breasts. “Feel the same way,” he said. He became fixed on her. His chest ached in a funny way since the sensation came in swells. Weird. It wasn’t painful, just surprising. An image drifted into his head, of how Carly had pulled him from his suite by the front of his shirt as though she’d had every right to do that to him. She had fire, this woman, in every possible way.

He really liked her. He liked her in a way that made him want to take back what he’d said to her at the door, that once the Napa event ended, he’d leave. He didn’t want to leave.

Where the hell was this coming from?

He shunted the odd thoughts aside. He concentrated instead on her belly. He rubbed the soft skin of her abdomen.

She gasped and moaned. He rubbed in large circles. He liked watching her face contort in pleasure. He liked
pleasuring
her. He liked her
beneath
him.

He settled on his knees between her legs. He leaned over her and moved his hands to either side of her head. He placed soft, gentle kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. She moaned. He loved the sound of her passion-suffused voice, the deepened, hoarse timbre. He liked her on her back, lying there, waiting, her body writhing in a slow rise-and-dip that made him stiff and tense. He wanted to be inside her but he also wanted to savor this moment, standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to catapult into a long fierce flight.

He shifted so that he could flick her ear with his tongue. Her body jerked and shivered as a series of
ohs
skipped out of her throat.

He lowered his hips and stroked her with the tip of his hard cock. She thrust a hand low and slid her fingers the length of him.

“No,” he hissed. She made him so hard. He took her hands and pinned them over her head. “I’ll come if you touch me.”

He stroked her mons again with his cock. A keening protest erupted from her throat. She lifted her legs and caught him around the waist. He let the head of his cock slide down to rest at her opening.

“So, impatient,” he murmured. He kissed her, rimming her lips with his tongue. He worked her mouth as he teased her core with shallow thrusts. Her body gyrated under his, trying to reach him and pull him in. He loved that she wanted him so much. He resisted, holding his hips back until she panted.

“More, please,” she whispered.

When her lips parted, he drove his tongue inside kissing her hard but still he played with her, not quite entering. He hoped she was just a little bit tormented.

“Quint,” she cried against his mouth. Her voice sounded liked she’d swallowed sandpaper. “
Please
.” She tried to wiggle her arms free but he held her in a firm grip.

When her back arched and she sucked on his tongue, only then, when he could no longer bear it, did he release her hands and drive deep. She cried out and clutched at him, her nails sinking into his back, her mouth racing up and down his neck.

He thrust hard. Her hips met him thrust for thrust. He ground into her. She cried out another orgasm. He pumped hard and a few seconds later spent himself. His deep groans filled the room.

At last.

At long last.

The bed grew quiet.

Her legs flopped back, her arms as well.

He lay on top of her but when he started to lift off, afraid he was too heavy, she threw her arms around him and held him. “Not yet. You feel so good.”

He remained inside her and savored the feel. Yeah, this was nice. She wanted him inside. She wanted to keep him there. This was what he’d been working toward.

He moved his hips over her, caressing her, pressing deep into her.

“Mmmm,” returned to him, a breath against his neck. “More.”

She always said
more
.

He wanted to give her more.

He kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear. “Did I tell you how good you smell?”

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do.”

He drew back just enough to look into her brown eyes. She appeared calm, her expression sated, content. Still, he saw the sparks begin to rise. Her hips caressed him again in return.

“That was wonderful,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “But I still want more.”

“I’ll give you as much as you can take.”

“I can take a lot.”

He nodded. “I know. I remember. God, how I remember.”

* * * * * * * * *

At one in the morning, after hours of making love with Quint, Carly had him face down on the bed. She licked down his buttocks, over his thighs, covering every inch, savoring the feel of the hair on his legs against her tongue. When she reached the back of his knee, she bit hard, not quite breaking skin but almost.

He groaned.

“Stroke yourself,” she whispered. He shifted onto his side. She watched his arm pump over his hip. She bit again and he cried out in a low hoarse voice as he came. She licked the back of his knee until his arm slowed and he once more fell back onto the mattress.

“You’re killing me.”

“The least you deserve.”

He rolled flat onto his back, reached down and caught her arms. He pulled her up so that she reclined with her head in the well of his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest. He held her close.

“I’m just crazy about you,” he said.

“Ditto.”

She fell asleep snuggled against him.

Toward dawn, Carly awoke. A faint light shone through a break in the drapes. She was in Quint’s bed, on her side. Quint spooned her, his arm wrapped around her breasts. He snored in soft flutters over her neck. The sound made her smile. He seemed so human right now, this godlike man who moved over the earth like he owned it.

She wanted to touch him again, like she had earlier, caressing every inch of his skin. She wanted to bite the back of his other knee.

She sighed.

But where did things go from here?

She tried to look into the future but couldn’t see very far. She saw her desire, to enjoy Quint the rest of her life, but that seemed impossible. He’d already set the parameters of their relationship—a sexy fling until the Napa clients left the winery.

But how could this ever be enough, a few brief weeks in his bed?

She ached in the pit of her stomach. Why was she feeling so much for a man she barely knew anyway, except that she did know him. He was a man who moved in and took over but when he made mistakes he put things right.

When he made promises, he kept them.

Maybe that’s why she’d resisted him, because her instincts told her she’d struck gold. The problem was that this rich vein was locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

How do I get in?

She had no idea.

He stirred beside her. His arm crept further around her breasts. He pulled her tight against him. She restrained a heavy groan as she melted into the strong arc of his body. She felt the rigid length of his sex pressed into her backside. He kissed her neck. “I think I have a welt on the back of my knee,” he murmured.

She took his hand and pulled it up to her cheek, her breast pressed into his arm. “I would apologize but you taste really good. I couldn’t resist.”

He whispered over her ear, “I liked it. A lot.”

“I noticed.”

“Last night was fantastic.”

She squeezed his arm and kissed his knuckles. “Yeah. Way fantastic.” She forced the dull, sad weight in her chest to recede. There would be weeks and months ahead for feeling, for wishing that things were different, but not right now, not yet.

He held her tight, settled his head on her pillow, and snuggled close to the back of her neck. A minute later, his breathing slowed and he slept once more, his soft comforting snore blowing against her neck.

This was all just too wonderful and equally as hopeless.

She rubbed her chest just above her heart.

Must protect.

Must protect.

* * * * * * * * *

Quint woke up much later with Carly facing him, her head tucked beneath his chin, her leg slung over his hip and her arm draped over his back like she’d always been there.

He never woke up with a woman in his bed. He never allowed his dates to sleep over. Ever.

What a strange experience.

He relaxed and savored. He breathed in her salty flowery smell. She felt good, almost comforting, almost
normal
. He released a sigh.

But in a hard sweep, like an ocean wave that caught him unaware, his childhood crashed into him. He’d moved so many times, attended an equal number of schools, learned to bathe in cold water, learned to eat popcorn for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

His mother died when he was young and he still couldn’t make sense of that. His teens had been a mess with three stepmothers, each subsequent woman worse than her predecessor. How the hell was he ever supposed to understand what
normal
was?

Carly moved against him, her hips shifting into him like she was remembering what they’d done last night. Was she dreaming or desiring? Was
this
normal, Carly draped over him, hungry for him in her sleep, smelling like heaven?

How would he ever know?

His chest started to hurt in a bizarre way, like bulldozers and excavators had moved in and had begun digging out all his vital organs. What the hell was that? At thirty-five, he was a little too young to be having heart issues but maybe he should have it checked out anyway.

He took deep breaths and decided to think about other things. Work. The day’s schedule. His goals for the week.

The pain subsided.

Thinking about work was good.

He could breathe again.

He let his mind move from project to project, his need to meet with the COO’s of his various businesses, via webcam, taking the forefront of his concerns. He had to call Brad this morning as well to see what the stock analysis group had for him and also to find out if the PI had finished his Carly Grayson investigation.

Yes, this was better. Much better.

He smiled and thumbed her shoulder. He’d completed his own investigation last night. God, he loved her body, loved making love to her, loved her intense responsiveness.

His mind intruded and a new excited humming took over. He’d gotten one step closer to getting her winery. He’d become almost obsessive about taking it from her. He didn’t even know where that particular drive came from except that she was putting up a good fight and he thrived on the challenge.

Maybe that’s why he enjoyed sexing her up so much. She resisted. From that resistance came an intensity that fired his mind first then his body.

She moaned in her just-awakening state and her body rolled against his. She moaned again.

The sounds she made hardened him all over again. He’d been just about ready to hop from bed and get to work, but as she shifted her leg off him, her hand drifted down his abdomen and slid up his hard cock, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere for at least the next few minutes.

He turned into her and kissed her neck. Little moans eased from her throat. He swirled his tongue in her ear then pushed her gently onto her back. He wanted her underneath him right now.

Power surged through him, the kind that came from being intent on her winery, from having her investigated and getting inside all her financial and social doings, the kind that came from his cock invading her as he pushed inside.

Her eyes were shut but her sleepy smile and parted lips told him everything. He watched desire float over her face. He got harder as he pushed into her hot, wet core. Her head rolled on the pillow, her back arched. She loved this just like he did.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

She opened her dark eyes, barely a glitter in the dim light of the room. A long, soft moan returned to him. He wanted her looking into his eyes while he brought her to orgasm. He wanted her to know just how much he commanded her.

She lifted her fingers to touch his face. This time she slid her thumb into
his
mouth. That did something to him. His lower back tightened and he thrust hard and fast.

She kept looking at him as he pumped into her, her mouth now wide as she caught air. The soft moan became a series of cries as he pushed her over the edge, but still she looked at him. When the orgasm hit, he arched his neck and roared. He thrust over and over until fully spent.

My God, he’d never felt anything like that in his life.

For the first time since he’d been with Carly, these two short weeks, a doubt arose about what might be happening between them. For one thing, it would be a long time before he ever forgot this moment, of having her look at him, straight into his eyes, just before he came. He felt like he’d merged with her, his mind with her mind.

He looked at her now, still inside her. Her cheeks flushed, her forehead damp, her lips swollen. She panted and smiled. She stroked his pecs with her long beautiful fingers over and over. She giggled. His eyes burned as he watched her. She seemed…happy.

Was
this
normal?

When he eased out of her, she slid her hands to the small of his back and caught him. “Stay,” she begged. “Just a little longer.”

He felt strange, dizzy, not himself as he fell against her.

She groaned and drove her hands into his hair. “You smell wonderful,” she whispered, her hips moving against him.

She felt so damn good. The soft tender murmurs against his ear made him want to stay put…for good.