“I think you know you are,” she replies, reaching out to scrape a fingernail lightly down my chest and making me shiver. She smiles once she sees what she’s done and repeats the move, watching for my reaction as she trails down past my navel this time.
“And I think you’re the one who’s dangerous,” I hear myself saying, my voice taking on a deeper tone. My breathing quickens as I debate whether to shut out my conscience completely and just go with it for once. I know I’m playing with fire, but I may never get this opportunityagain.
She shoots me a smug look after her gaze follows her fingertip up and down, because while my brain and my heart may be preoccupied, my body still has some ideas of its own. It’s pretty obvious what I want right now—physically, at least. Emotionally … I still don’t know if I’ll recover from this experience. Because even though I know this is wrong, I wasn’t prepared for how amazing all of it would feel in the moment.
Kissing Claire, holding her and touching her like this … It’s all so different, and I can’t even imagine what the rest of it might be like. Waiting until my wedding night has always been the plan, along with the assumption that my bride and I would both be relatively inexperienced and would need to work around the awkwardness. But I’m certain Claire knowsexactlywhat she’s doing. She’d probably be very accommodating, too, attributing the incompetency to my medicated state.
There’s also the fact that I’ve never connected so well with anyone else, regardless of how long we’ve known one another. Maybe I didn’t expect to find the cure for my loneliness in the arms of a stranger, but I’m already hooked on this intimacy stuff.
Now that I think about it, I might even resent denying myself this for the past few decades. I still believe in waiting for the right person at the right time and being rewarded with a blissful sex life, but what if I never get married? What if Claireisthe right person, but we never make it past tonight? What if I end up spending my whole life alone and miss out on my only chance at a taste of heaven on earth?
I stare down at the breathtakingly beautiful woman before me, allowing myself the full weight of my desire for the first time in my life. There will be consequences later, I’m sure. But I don’t think I give a damn about anything else right now.
I swallow hard before cupping my hand around her jaw and pulling her in for a kiss. She responds enthusiastically, letting out a soft moan before scooting in to press her body against mine. And my lingering doubts about the moral implications of all this are suppressed by the promise of her affection and warmth of herembrace.
My fingers slide around her neck and entangle themselves in her hair. I move to shift my position before I realize a couple of her locks are tangled around my middle finger, accidentally yanking her head back. She hums and pulls away to shoot me a wide grin.
“Didn’t take you for a hair-puller, Doc. But I don’t hate it,” she says in that low, seductive voice.
I blink down at her, realizing I’m in way over my head again. This is the part when I’m supposed to confess my lack of experience or at least mention my celibate lifestyle. But I can’t bring myself to risk ruining the moment. And even though I’ve always reassured myself that any woman who’d judge me for sticking to my beliefs didn’t deserve me, I feel like I’ve held on to the truth for too long to spring it on Claire now and expect her to take it in stride.
Her smile softens after I’m quiet for a while. “You’re not worried about hurting me, are you?”
“I-I don’t … I mean, we don’t need to …”
“Rowan, I’m far from an innocent virgin. I don’t mind if you want to get a little rough,” she tells me, wrapping her hand around my forearm and tugging so that her head jerks back again, squeezing the air from my lungs in the process. “And I trust you.”
“No, um, I don’t think that’s my thing,” I reply hoarsely and extricate my fingers from her hair. “Except maybe the part about earning your trust.”
“What do you like, then?”
She sounds sincerely interested in my answer, and although I should probably reply with something along the lines of “I have no idea what I like in bed because I’ve never gotten the chance to find out,” I don’t think she’d care. Because, in spite of the way this night has consisted of one embarrassing and awkward debacle after another, Claire likes me. She practically knows everything else about me, and she stillwantsme. And that makes me want to place my trust in her, just like she trusts me.
I let out a more measured exhale as I muster up the courage to brush a knuckle down her arm. “You already know what I like.”
“The soulmate experience?” she asks carefully, and I realize she’s giving me an opportunity to help mitigate my learning curve.
I nod and slip my hands down to her hips, drawing her closer. “And I want to hear from you,” I continue, scraping my palms over her thighs. My mouth turns up in a smirk as I allow my fingertips to venture beneath her silky shorts.
“Talk me through it, tell me what you need, and maybe give me a little positive reinforcement when I’m on the right track.” She whimpers at my touch. “Yeah, that works,” I declare breathily as I go in for another kiss.
“I want us to take our time, not just like we have all night, but all the nights after this one,” I mumble against her lips before leaning back to gauge her expression. Her eyelids look heavy, and she tips her chin up to follow me, as if she doesn’t want me to stop kissing her.
“I think you like that, too, though,” I pose, my confidence growing. “You don’t mind that I want to drag this out, to take turns worshipping your body and listening to you talk for the next few hours, do you?”
She sucks in a shaky breath and hitches her leg over my hip, confirming my suspicions. “I knew you were more dangerous than you let on,” she murmurs, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
CHAPTER NINE
claire
Isit actually possible to die from excessive yearning? Or dehydration?
That’s it—I’m literally dying of thirst, but the sexy kind.
Don’t get me wrong, I could lie here and talk to Rowan all night, especially when it involves this much skin-to-skin contact. I don’t know if I’d ever get tired of kissing the man, and we’ve already proven my body responds extremely well to his touch. And, although I’ve always thought of myself as having a high sex drive, Rowan seems to be every bit as into it as I am. Yet, he’s still stalling for whatever reason.
We haven’t encountered any issues, despite all the medication he’s taken over the course of the evening, so I can only assume he’s worried about his stamina. But after he exercised enough self-restraint to stop me in the middle of an activity he claimed to enjoytoo much, I don’t see any cause for concern.
