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"I'm sorry," I said, tears biting the corners of my eyes.
"It's not your fault you’re so delicious," Drake said and pulled me into his arms. "I'm so glad you're mine."
We stood in each other's arms and his warmth, and the solidity of his body soon melted away some of my anxiety from the weekend, but a sense of dread lingered that Claire was going to be a problem. I hated the thought that the weekend might cause problems between Drake and Michael.
The drive home was quiet, as if both of us were still too emotional to speak. Despite the lack of conversation, he held my hand the entire time, his thumb brushing against my knuckles, his expression dark and needful when he glanced at me. It sent a jolt of desire through me to see his blatant need.
He parked the car and came around to open my door, always the gentleman, taking my hand and leading me up the path to the doorway. He kept my hand in his as he unlocked the door, and then pulled me inside, throwing the keys onto the dish on the table in the entry. I thought he'd pull me into our bedroom and maybe give me orders about how we were going to play out a scene, but instead, he merely pushed me back against the wall beside the door, taking my hands in one of his and raising them over my head so that I was effectively confined by him and unable to move.
I started to speak, opening my mouth, but he silenced me, placing his index finger over my lips.
"Shh," he said, a look of such determination in his eyes that I stopped before even getting a word out. "No talking."
He didn’t kiss me. Instead, he ran his free hand down over my shoulder to cup a breast, watching my face the entire time, his eyes on mine. I closed my eyes when he squeezed my nipple through the fabric of my t-shirt and bra.
"Keep your eyes open and on mine."
I complied, opening my eyes to look into his, which were half-hooded. He was breathing faster, and I was as well, my lips parted. His hand moved down my body, over my belly, and then over one hip to my buttock, squeezing it, pulling me against him so that I could feel his erection against my groin. I rubbed myself against him wantonly, and he groaned, rubbing back.
Then, without a word, he began undressing me, pulling at my t-shirt, releasing my hands to strip it off me with rough hands then throwing it on the floor before running his hands over my skin-colored lace bra that still covered my breasts. He kept his hips pressed against mine, but squeezed my breasts once more before pulling down the fabric to expose my nipples, which he pinched between his fingers and thumbs. I gasped in response and he glanced up from my breasts to my face, as if he enjoyed how heated my cheeks were.
He bent and sucked on first one then the other nipple, and I writhed against him in response, my breath catching in my throat from the waves of pleasure that washed over me. He pulled off the tunic of his scrubs, struggling with the tie at the back of his neck, roughly throwing it on the floor before turning to my jeans, which he attacked with the same need, stripping them off me, his thumbs hooking my lace thong and pulling it down and off me so that I stood naked before him. He pressed me roughly against the wall again and kissed me hungrily, one hand slipping between our bodies to brush my nipples, trailing down to my now-bare pussy. He slipped fingers between my lips and moaned against my throat when he felt how wet I was.
I was ready.
He untied his scrub trousers and let them fall around his ankles, pulling down his boxer briefs to his knees. Then, to my surprise, he placed my arms around his neck and picked me up.
He was going to take me right then and there.
I wrapped my thighs around his hips, groaning when he pressed his erection against me. He rubbed me like that for a few moments, kissing me all the while, his kiss hungry, his tongue searching out mine, sucking mine into his mouth. Then he took himself in hand and maneuvered me so that he could sink himself into me. I moaned when he filled me up completely.
He kissed me and we remained in that position without moving, our bodies joined. The kiss went on and on and my body ached for him to move but he didn't. Finally, I squeezed myself around him, wanting him to start thrusting but he merely made a sound in the back of his throat. I waited, my body vibrating with need, my breath fast, heart pounding. He didn't want me to speak and it was driving me crazy. Fuck me. Please…
I closed my eyes, gasping, waiting in delicious agony for him to start.
"Open your eyes," he said and I did, completely forgetting his command. I stared into his eyes as he looked down at me, his face red, his eyes darkening. Then, he began to move, slowly, agonizingly slowly, each withdrawal unhurried and each thrust deep, pulling almost all the way out before slamming hard back inside. He kept this almost leisurely rhythm, slow and deep, our eyes locked together. It was so intimate, I felt like he claimed me with each deep lunge, my soul bared completely to him, as if he could read my mind as he claimed my body.
His pace quickened, and my body responded, the sensations building so I knew I would soon orgasm if he kept it up. I gripped harder onto his shoulders, gritting my teeth as pleasure overwhelmed me, my eyes closing.
"Keep your eyes open," he growled, thrusting faster. "Look in mine."
I tried my best, but the pleasure was so intense, I saw him only through my eyelashes as my orgasm crested and my body trembled with pleasure. He thrust hard and fast, and soon, his face contorted, his own teeth gritted and then he came as well, thrusting hard and deep, once, twice, three times and stopped deep inside of me, his face slackening. He gasped, his mouth pressed against my shoulder, kissing his bite mark tenderly.
Finally, he lifted his head, moving his lips along my chin before kissing me deeply. When he pulled away, he stared in my eyes, frowning.
"Don't ever doubt me," he said, his voice deep, firm.
"Don't ever doubt me."
He nodded, then he sighed heavily and leaned back down to my shoulder, kissing the mark there
gently once more.
I ran my hands through his hair and closed my eyes.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I lay in the suds-filled bathtub, wrapped in Drake's arms, my arms around his neck. Scented candles provided the only light besides what came in from the window, but the sky was rapidly darkening.
