“Your cheek.”
She smiled. “I can’t feel my face right now.”
With a smile that made her heart soar, he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her with so much tenderness, she wanted to cling to him like a lifeboat in a raging sea and, never, ever let him go.
“You’re wound tight,” he said. “Time for me to massage you.”
“Uh. No.”
“Yes. But no sex.”
“Well, that sucks.”
His deep chuckle rumbled through her. When he pushed off the stool and held out his hand, she glanced at his long fingers. Those strong, sexy hands would be all over her. A thrill ran through her.
It was like she was fighting the undertow of the ocean, but she could never win, not against something that powerful, that all-encompassing. She was about to drown in him and she couldn’t stop it from happening.
I have to do this.
She took a step toward him, then another. He clasped her hand and she appreciated the gentle way he stroked her skin. Back and forth. Up and down.
In a silence filled with unspoken expectations, they made their way to the stairwell. As soon as they entered the stairwell, and the fire door closed behind them, he pinned her against the wall and kissed her like he was going to strip her bare and fuck her to the moon.
Everything about him screamed power and control, which made her feel safe. His breathing was calm, but the intensity in his eyes was not. Her own breath was coming in short bursts, her body thrumming with a desire so strong, she was dizzy with lust. He’d pinned her arms over her head and was teasing one nipple, constrained behind her bra while he was grinding into her as if they were two horny teenagers making out beneath the stadium bleachers.
And, oh, my God, did she want to let go, to free herself from the prison she’d placed herself in. But she didn’t deserve to be that happy. So, she slowed the kiss down, but Dakota wouldn’t let it end. Rather than breaking away, he dropped gentle pecks on her lips. Then, her cheeks and finally, he kissed each wrist and the palms of her hands.
Her knees grew weak.
When he finally pulled away, they climbed the stairs in silence and entered a room on L3. “Take off your clothing.” This wasn’t a request, it was a demand. Her insides pulsed, her body ached for his.
But she took her time stripping out of her shirt and pants, never taking her eyes off him. When she stood naked before him, he led her to the Tantra chair.
She sat facing him. “Please, fuck me,” she begged.
* * *
Dakota needed her more than he would admit. But he wasn’t going to screw her. Tonight, he was going to help her. Given what she’d been through on his account, he was determined to do something just for her. With the exception of Sammy, he put no one before himself and his own needs. That was about to change.
Ignoring his raging hard-on, he collected the bottle of lavender scented oil, and returned to admire her. She’d leaned against the sloping back and closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Though he could stare at her for hours, he murmured, “Providence.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she eyed the bottle in his hand.
“Turn around and lean against the cushion.”
The lines between her brows deepened. “So, you’re really not going to have sex with me?”
“No, I’m not. I’m going to massage that tension out of your shoulders.”
With a playful smile, she arched up. His attention shifted. “As beautiful and tempting as your breasts are, I amnotgoing to fuck you. Now, turn around.”
Her saucy glare made him smile. She turned, draped her arms over the top of the chair, and grew still. And he dropped into the tight space between her glorious backside and the curve of the chair. He pressed his mouth to her skin and kissed her. Getting lost in her would be much too easy.
But he had a job to do, so he drizzled oil into his palm and started massaging her upper back.
She exhaled a sigh. “Oh, my God, you have got the best hands.”
“Let me get you something so you don’t stick to the leather.” He pulled off a pillowcase and she lifted her face so he could slide it under her. “Better?”
