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Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “No. This is our night out. I’m not letting that asshole ruin it.”
Anton smiled. The approval in his eyes washed over me like sun rays, bathing me in their warmth, and heating me to the core.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Just give me a minute to fix my face. I must look like a clown.”
Anton chuckled. “You look beautiful, as always. Go on, I’ll wait for you here.”
Cupping his face between my hands, I let my eyes speak for me. He smiled, and I rubbed my nose against his before going to the washroom.
We returned home with our arms around each other’s waist, strolling like two lovers without a care in the world. William greeted us at the Venus Hive Headquarters, no doubt having heard about the incident. Anton gave him a little nod, and William smiled. In turn, he gave me what I could only describe as a fatherly look. He stepped aside to let us through and the whole way to the penthouse, I wondered what had passed between them.
Once we reached our bedroom – yeah, it wasourbedroom now, notthebedroom – Anton helped me out of my dress before quickly discarding his own clothes. Guessing I wanted to wash off the touch of that Sarenian, he took me to the bathroom. Anton was gentle yet thorough as he rubbed every inch of my skin with the washcloth. His touch wasn’t clinical but didn’t qualify as sensual either. Tender, caring, were the words that came to mind.
He led me by the hand back to the bedroom. When he fetched a nightgown to put on me, I pulled it out of his hand and tossed it aside. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my face in the crook of his neck.
“Be with me tonight,” I whispered against his neck.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, inhaling his scent – male, raw, mine. His hand slid up my back until his fingers combed through my hair, gently pulling it to make me look up at him. Whatever he saw on my face silenced his reservations. He lowered his head and gave me a slow, deep, sensuous kiss. It reminded me of our dance at Risqué. His tongue explored, caressed, and teased, drawing a needy moan out of me.
Breaking the kiss, he lifted me, carrying me to our bed. He laid me down as if I was the most delicate thing in the world. I opened my arms and he settled between my parted legs. The heat of his body took my breath away. Anton supported his weight on his forearms and though I could feel him stiffen against me, he seemed in no hurry to take me.
He traced the curve of my face with his fingertips as if discovering my features for the first time. Continuing their journey downwards, his hand explored my chest, drawing the lines of my clavicles with his fingers. I shivered. Moving down to my breast, Anton rubbed his palm over it. He then cupped it while his thumb circled my nipple. It pebbled under his touch while heat blossomed in the pit of my stomach. His eyes followed the motion of his fluttering caresses. I never felt so cherished in my entire life. It dawned on me that this was our first intimate moment on an actual bed with proper foreplay.
Usually, I would be on my knees sucking him off, or he would bend me over whatever surface was the closest. However mind-blowing those experiences felt, they were fast, hard, and impersonal. This… this was something else.
When his hand finally slipped between my legs, there was no urgency. A deliberate, sensual journey, his eyes locked with mine. My lips parted in a soft gasp when his thumb stroked my nub in a gentle tidal movement. His fingers didn’t penetrate, content to fondle my nether lips. A slow fire built in me as my body awakened to his careful touch. The look in his eyes melted my insides. Whatever doubts I held about him and our future, right here, right now, I knew Anton’s feelings for me transcended lust or ownership. I probably couldn’t call it love, but he cared, deeply.
I sank my fingers in his luxurious raven hair and pulled his face back to mine. His plump, soft lips begged me to nip and devour them. And he tasted good. Every part of Anton tasted good.
“My turn,” I whispered into our kiss.
I pushed him on his back, ending the delicious torment of his hand between my legs. Although Anton and I had had sex countless times, I never truly touched him before. Most times, he was fully or partially dressed. The rare times we were both naked I usually bent over, my palms against the shower wall for support while he took me from behind. Tonight, at last, I would savor, taste and discover the magnificent body that had made mine sing for the past two months.
Like him, I explored his face, first with my hands, then with my lips. He cringed as I traced the line of his nose, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. His vulnerable expression told me he feared I wouldn’t like what I saw. How wrong he was. I no longer saw his strong brow ridges and prominent forehead as brutish. They denoted his strength, and character.
My fellow humans often compared Braxian noses to that of baboons. I never challenged that notion having barely given the Braxians I’ve seen before any real attention. But now, looking at his broad, flat nose, I saw no correlation. It was feline in its shape with the elegant nobility of a tiger’s. I brushed my lips along the bridge of his nose, and he shuddered, his eyes closing. Nipping at his square jaw, I let my hands roam down his neck, to his broad shoulders.
I rubbed my face against his massive chest, inhaling his fresh, male scent. As far as I knew, Braxians didn’t release special pheromones beyond what most species naturally secreted. Yet, Anton’s scent soothed me into a sense of safety while arousing me. His skin felt soft, in sharp contrast to the hard muscles beneath. I could spend hours rubbing myself all over him. When my lips latched onto his erect nipple, Anton hissed, his fingers combed through my hair to hold me against his chest.
I smiled. Nearly two months together and I didn’t know how sensitive his nipples were. I licked the hard nub, slowly, carefully, sucking on it. My thumb teased the other one and a deep, rumbling moan rose from Anton’s chest.
“Grace, stop,” Anton pleaded.
I realized then that Anton was one of those men who could climax simply from nipple stimulation. Although I would have liked to continue feasting on that little treat, I caved in. I journeyed down, my tongue exploring the cut lines of his abs. Before I could go any lower, Anton sat up, pulling me to him and flipping me onto my back. I squealed in surprise, disoriented for a second.
He buried his face between my legs. My back arched off the bed as a shout of pleasure tore from me. The intense frenzy with which he licked and tasted me testified to his fading control. Still, he didn’t penetrate me with his tongue or fingers. My stomach clenched and my legs shook with frustrated desire. I was so close.
“Anton… I need you.”
Mischievous, he continued lapping at me. Then mercifully, he crawled back up to me. I spread my legs wider, wrapping them around him as he settled over me. The scorching heat of his skin against mine stirred the flame burning within. His weight on me was like a cocoon sheltering me. It was like being with him for the very first time.
Eyes locked with mine, Anton pushed himself inside me carefully. Once fully sheathed, he remained still, kissing me deeply. Anton began rocking in and out of me, savoring every moment. He thrust deep before pulling out almost to the tip and back in again. Each stroke fanned the fire burning inside me. My arms tightened around him, my nails digging into his strong, broad back. I couldn’t seem to get close enough to him.
Cupping my face, Anton’s eyes devoured mine. “Grace…” he whispered. “I missed you. I ached for you.”
With each word, the part of me yearned to belong fell even more for him.
