Coming Back To You (32 page)

How the hell did he expect her to concentrate
on pouring cream when he was doing that?

Once the cream was in the bowl, she set aside
the sieve and picked up the whisk.

Mark’s hands found her breasts. “Take your
time. Don’t rush it. Let the cream seduce the chocolate into
submission.” His deep, seductive voice stroked her like a feather
as she slowly stirred the cream and chocolate together to the same
rhythm with which his hands squeezed and released her breasts in
sultry circles, over and over. “Let the cream gently make love to
the chocolate so they become one…until they’re inseparable.” He
pressed his erection against her backside and released her breasts,
only to wrap his arms around her torso.

Little by little, as he ground himself
against her in time with her stirring, the nibs of chocolate melted
into the cream until she had a smooth, creamy bowl of ganache.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could
maintain control. When Mark got this way, she was practically
candle wax under a hot flame.

“Is that what we are?” she whispered, picking
up the coffee and pouring it into the ganache.

“What? Inseparable?” He kissed her
shoulder.

She added the vanilla and whisked it in.
“Yes.”

He took the whisk, tapped it on the side of
the bowl, and set it on the counter before turning her around.
“Yes. That’s what we are. Like ganache, you and I are better
together than we are apart.” He inched closer, his gaze burning her
from the inside out. “Now, what do you say we explore all that
togetherness while we’re waiting for the ganache to set?”

She’d barely had a chance to nod when his
lips seared hers as he lifted her, spun her around, and slammed her
back against the refrigerator as she wrapped her legs around his
waist.

The jars in the door rattled as he swallowed
her breath.

For two days, Mark had been gentle but
passionate, loving her body, kissing her mind, cherishing her. Now
it was as if he’d only been a dam with a tiny leak, and the leak
had finally burst to let the water gush through. He was all over
her. In her, on her, surrounding her. God, the overwhelming assault
was like nothing she’d ever experienced. He was practically
consuming her.

His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs,
and he hiked her against him, banging her against the refrigerator
again. A box of crackers she’d set on top tumbled off the edge and
bounced across the floor.

Jesus! Karma gasped as he broke the kiss and
latched onto her neck with a guttural growl.

The refrigerator shook again as he thrust
against her, his erection grinding between her legs as if two
layers of flannel didn’t separate them.

Every breath was a moan. Every movement a
stroke of pleasure.

And then he lifted her away from the
refrigerator, carried her to the bedroom, and tossed her onto the
bed before crashing down over her.

They wrestled and rolled, peeling away their
clothes in a frantic, possessive battle.

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck.
A split second later, he fisted her hair and yanked back her head
before frisking her neck with his teeth.

Yes!
He’d never pulled her hair. Not
like this. The memory of their first true night together—when
they’d played Truth or Dare and he’d told her he loved when a woman
pulled his hair—flashed into her mind. This was what he’d meant.
This unabashed feeling of wanton lust. No wonder he liked it so
much.

He rolled with her and sat up, still tugging
viciously, directing her head where he wanted it, until his mouth
devoured hers again in a rush of fire.

Theirs was a battle of passion. Two bodies
entwined in a war of mutual dominance, seeking only pleasure. His
hunger stoked her own. Unable to stop herself, she clasped her arms
around his shoulders, dug her fingers into his hair, and grasped
two healthy handfuls. As she held on for all she was worth, he
growled, and his hold intensified.

“You’re mine now.” He tossed her to the side,
reached into the drawer for a condom, hastily rolled it on, then
flipped her to her stomach.

She slapped one hand against the headboard,
breathless, moaning, needing him inside her. A year away from him
seemed to be culminating in this one electrifying moment, even
though they’d already spent two days enjoying each other.

The front of his body crashed down over the
back of hers, and he split her open with his knees. This was feral
sex. Raw and basic. Karma’s entire body shuddered in
anticipation.

His hot breath washed over the back of her
neck as he shoved her hair aside and laved her nape. Then she felt
his cock nudge between her legs, and then…

She gasped as he penetrated her in one swift
stroke. Hard.

This was fucking. This was the
against-the-conference-room-wall office sex they’d had two summers
ago times fifty.

The bed rocked and banged the wall, providing
an erotic beat to his rhythmic thrusts. His fists planted on either
side of her torso as he lifted and pounded harder.

Within seconds, Karma shrieked as she came,
the relentless impact with her G-spot too much to hold back.

He raised to his knees and gripped her hips,
lifting her rump higher as she pressed her cheek against the
mattress.

Oh God, she was going to come again. So fast.
So soon after the first.

Gasping for air, unable to comprehend the
profound attack on her senses, her body seized again, breaking into
violent tremors as he continued to drive into her. It was as if he
was determined to remind her who she belonged to, how much pleasure
he could give her, and how strong their chemistry was.

If there had been any doubt before, there was
none now.

His hand smacked her right cheek, and she
sucked in her breath. He’d never spanked her.

“Again!” She could barely speak through her
urgent panting.

His hand whacked her ass a second time, and
the pleasure that rippled through her core sparked a third orgasm
to life.

“AGAIN!” She needed more. Her third orgasm
needed to be set free.

His hand landed a third time, harder than the
previous two, and the sound of flesh slapping flesh was as erotic
as the act itself.

“Fuck, Karma!” Mark grunted. Obviously, he
could feel how close she was to another orgasm so close on the
heels of the first two.

She gripped the headboard, arching her back
to intensify the contact with her pleasure zone. Shit, but this was
dirty sex. The kind that porn stars had on camera, hot and sweaty
and all lust. And she fucking loved it. For too long she’d had
saltine sex with Brad. This was
gourmet-crackers-with-caviar-and-foie gras sex, just without the
refinement. There was nothing refined about the way Mark drilled
her like a relentless battering ram. His gritty urgency and slaps
to her ass blew her mind in such a welcome way.

The pleasure built, deepened, and doubled on
itself. When the orgasm struck, she almost blacked out.

In an instant, Mark pulled out, fell to his
back, and pulled her on top of him.

“I want to see your face when I come,” he
hissed urgently.

Still in the throes of her third orgasm, she
raised herself then sank down on his shaft. His eyes rolled back
and he reached around to grip her tender ass, pushing and pulling
her against him as he pounded into her from below.

In this position, she could grind her clit
against him, and that sent a completely different sensation through
her core.

Lifting up, she dug her blunt nails into his
chest, briefly grinning at his tattoo. He was branded. She
owned
him.

Leaning down as she rotated her hips around
and around, she pierced his gaze with hers. “You’re mine now.” It
was what he’d said to her earlier, and in the moment, she knew the
promise went both ways.

Realization and acceptance flashed through
his gaze as a tight moan fluttered from his chest. And as swiftly
as a bird takes flight, the control shifted from him to her. She
felt his body give. Felt him relinquish control and acknowledge his
place as hers to do with as she pleased.

“Then take me,” he whispered, his voice
shaking.

She grabbed his arms and flung them out to
the sides against the mattress before locking her hands with his.
Holding him down, she ground herself against him, driving her body
against his, urgently seeking her fourth climax but more determined
to drag his first out of him.

He moaned and gripped her fingers, his whole
body tight as a drum. “Hold me down. Claim me.”

Shoving his arms up the bed and over his
head, she lowered herself against him, pressed her breasts against
his chest, and licked his lips.

“Who owns you?” She snagged his bottom lip
between her teeth and tugged. “Hmm?” She let his lip go. “Who owns
you, Mark?”

He groaned, and his eyes glazed over, his
pupils fully dilated. “God, you! You own me.” The skin around his
eyes tightened. “Oh God!”

She knew the signs. Knew them so well. He was
close.

Fucking him harder, she nipped his bottom
lip, making him groan. His face tensed, and he sucked in a
desperate breath. “Fuck, don’t stop.” He drew in another tight
breath and held it, never looking away from her eyes. He took
several shallow, pinched breaths as his faced strained. Then he
blew apart.

She released his hands, and he drove his arms
around her, clutching her body to his. His biceps pulsed in time
with the contractions of his lower abdomen as his cock emptied in a
series of spasms inside her.

Mark coming was a glorious experience. His
entire body got in on the act. He seemed to feel it everywhere,
right down to the tips of his fingers. Every muscle jerked. Every
cell seemed to climax. And to think she’d given him that.

When they’d finished ravishing each other,
and they were lying in a breathless heap with their arms around one
another, she closed her eyes and thanked whatever power had brought
him back to her.

His fingers tenderly stroked up and down her
arm.

“You know,” he said quietly, “there was no
one else while we were apart.”

She drowsily lifted her head and looked at
him. “What do you mean?”

He blinked and his gaze met hers. “I haven’t
slept with anyone else.”

Narrowing her eyes, she raised up on one
elbow. She almost couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. “What are
you saying?”

He licked his lips and smiled. “What do you
think I’m saying?”

“It sounds like you just said you haven’t had
sex since the last time we—”

“I haven’t.” His eyebrows popped as his gaze
quickly danced around her bedroom. “Well, except for here the last
few days, of course.”

Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t speak. Had
he seriously withheld himself from other women for the last
year?

“Is that so hard to believe?” he said,
curling toward her, his hand on her hip. “That I didn’t find anyone
else worthy enough to share a bed with?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess. I
just…” But she couldn’t find the words. “What about New Year’s
Eve?”

He frowned. “New Year’s Eve? What do you
mean?”

“I saw a picture of you. It was New Year’s
Eve. You were with a woman. I thought…didn’t you…? Are you saying
you never slept with her?”

Mark’s face was the picture of confusion as
he tried to follow along, and then realization dawned. He chuckled.
“That was just a blind date.” He rubbed his palm over his face.
“And not a good one, I might add.”

“But…” All this time, she thought he’d been
dating that woman. That she’d been his girlfriend, at least for a
little while. She’d been wrong on all counts.

He pulled himself up on one elbow and ran his
hand down her cheek. “Karma, no one else measures up to you. How
could I sleep with someone else when I was in love with you? It’s
only you I wanted. It’s always been you.”

In that moment, she knew without a doubt.
There would never be another man in her life. Ever.

Mark was
it
.

* * *

Later, after another quick shower to wash away the
sex and sweat, they returned to the kitchen, finished preparing the
truffles, made the stuffing, and then loaded everything into her
car.

“Thanksgiving dinner is more like a late
lunch with my family,” she said as they fastened their seatbelts.
“Then everyone eats leftovers for dinner…if they’re still
hungry.”

Mark settled into the passenger seat. “My
family does a huge, formal dinner. Since I was a baby, they’ve
invited members from their studio and do up a massive table.”

This was nice hearing about the more personal
details of Mark’s life. For all he’d told her, he hadn’t revealed
much about his family.

“Were you supposed to spend the holiday with
them?”

“Yes, but I’d rather be here.” He squeezed
her hand. “This is where I need to be.”

The man could render her speechless with just
a look, and she leaned across the seat and kissed him before
putting her Civic in gear and pulling out of her parking space.

“You sure you’re up to this? My dad’s
probably going to flip when he sees you instead of Brad.”

“Then I’ll just have to prove his worries are
unfounded.”

Her dad wasn’t one to easily forgive and
forget. He wouldn’t care that Karma was happy and in love. All he
would see was a man who had hurt his daughter and would hurt her
again. It would take a lot more than a handshake and a promise of
Mark’s faith to win her dad over.

But this was what Karma wanted. In nine
months with Brad, she hadn’t been nearly as happy as she was after
only two days with Mark. But then, she had history with Mark. A
wondrous, incredible, life-changing history.

Mark was the reason she was the woman she was
today. He was the reason she’d overcome her insecurities. The
reason her confidence was at an all-time high and her closet was
filled with a wardrobe of fashionably sexy clothes and high heels.
Mark had helped her find her voice when she’d thought it would be
lost forever. Today, she would need that voice to silence her
father’s misgivings. Because, without a doubt, Dad was going to
blow a fuse when she walked in on Mark’s arm.