Chapter Fourteen
Wes leaned down, taking brief possession of her mouth. Breaking the kiss, he cupped her face between his warm palms. “Ellie, I want you to feel safe. I wantyou, not for any other reason than I find you beautiful, sexy, funny, smart, caring and arousing.” That was the truth.
Mike’s voice reverberated in his head.We need you to protect her. He’d been sandbagged. They thought she was hiding things. And sadly, so did he.
Wes’s eyes sparkled while placing butterfly kisses across her brow and down her nose, across her rosy cheeks and to her full lips. Her mouth opened to his gentle probing. His controlled exploration left her breathless.
Wes trailed his tongue, as he’d imagined doing, along her soft neck, nuzzling its base. Her pulse pounded beneath his lips. “We better get going, Curly.”
“What if I said I didn’t want to go?” She placed her hand against his cheek.
“This is a big decision, one you cannot undo. Neither of us has any idea where our relationship will go.”I won’t make false promises.“I need you to be sure.” He knew he should stop.
“I know that, Wes. I do know you will never hurt me. I cannot stay in a bubble any longer. I have feelings no one has ever made me feel. I know what they are clinically. I want to feel something that’s mine. Real. Ellie’s.”
Stop.Wes leaned his forehead against her. “You say stop, we stop. This is a shared experience. And despite what you may think, men are definitely not mind readers.”
She nodded. “Wes, the mind reader thing. I need to show you something.” She turned her back to him and lifted her shirt to expose her skin.
His eyes gaze traveled over the part of her back he could see. His slid a finger against raised ridges running in stripes, as well as the scars from skin grafts.
The awareness gutted him. His heart ached. He regularly played in adult clubs as a whip master. He could strike a piece of paper and not tear it. Her father meant to hurt her.
He leaned in and pressed his lips against one of the scars. “Does it hurt if I touch them?”
“No. Only if I scrub them.”
Wes sighed. “My beautiful Curly.” He scooped her off the loveseat and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom she pointed to. He wondered how many men would let the scars stop them from wanting to be with her and, if not for them, for her size.
Her room was painted the color of cream with pastel pink and rose accents. The queen-size bed’s coverlet was decorated with roses and lilacs. Antique white dressers and night tables completed the romantic look. It was warm and feminine, like her.
Gently, he laid her down on her bed and crawled over her body, caging her with his arms. He wrestled with the present Eleanor was giving him. Her trust left him aroused and filled with guilt at the same time. He was torn between duty and desire. Could he have both?
Eleanor reached up, running her fingers through his dirty blond hair. “I wanted to do this the first time I saw you when you took the bandages off my eyes. It’s so soft.” She pulled him in for a kiss.
Wes suckled her lips, licking each fully before pressing his tongue into her mouth. His tongue swirled with hers, enjoying and teaching her at the same time. Her body began to relax as his hands ran up and down her sides, letting her get used to his touch.
“You are wearing too many clothes,” he whispered. He helped her sit up to allow him to remove her blouse and reveal her lace-covered breasts. Nuzzling and kissing her shoulders, he slid the bra down her arms, his fingers glancing over her back.
The X’s carved into her shoulder remained unexplained. He assumed they were part of the lie she told him, when she said she didn’t know why the FBI didn’t believe her. He shut the thought down, wanting her. The scents of roses and gardenias rose from her heated skin. His hands spilled over her full breasts, cupping and kneading them, causing a soft mewl to fall from her lips. “Ellie,” he called.
Eleanor closed her eyes. A nip to her bottom lip called her attention. Opening her eyes, she tentatively placed her hand against his warm chest. A nod from Wes, and her lips turned up. His skin prickled as her strong fingers explored each sinew of muscle. His cologne competed with hers.
Wes reached behind her, releasing the bra clasp, removing the last wisp of lace to let her full breasts spill completely free. Her skin took on a pink blush. He watched as her nipples hardened, taunting his desire.
“Beautiful.” He seized one hard peak between his teeth, bringing out a husky cry from her. Not wanting her other breast to be left out, he equally tended to it.
Wes battled a possessive need to claim her, wanting this to be a positive experience, even if they were never together again. At each touch, more heat radiated from her. Using his lips, teeth and tongue, he lay a trail of kisses down her abdomen until he reached her lace-covered mound.
When she stiffened, he lifted his head and made eye contact. “Ellie, talk to me.”
“What if I can’t meet your needs?” she asked in a nervous whisper.
“Do you trust me, Curly?” Wes’s thumbs continued to massage her hips, occasionally letting his fingers caress her mound.
She sighed dreamily. “I trust you.”
“Let your thoughts go and feel.” Wes pressed kisses to edges of her lace panties. He could see the darkened area from her growing arousal. Slowly, he slipped her panties down, exposing glistening lips. “Open for me.”
