His eyes lost focus, and he held his breath, waiting for her body to stretch and settle. Seated to the hilt, he helped Cassie move. Together, they rocked in a slow, sensuous dance. Heat radiated off her skin and sweat soaked his body. Ian tilted his hips, and she cried out, her head falling back, her hair touching his legs. When he repeated the motion, she screamed his name.
At her climax, Ian felt a primal need to make her his—he belonged buried inside her. He let go of his control—with two more hard thrusts—his own orgasm tore through him. “Cassie!”
They fell asleep sweaty and spent in each other’s arms.
Chapter Forty-One
Ian startled awake at ten-thirty to find Cassie lying fast asleep on top of him, her hair forming a curtain around them. Their bodies remained intimately connected. His fingers brushed the long, luscious strands aside, waking her with kisses. “Good morning.” Sleepy eyes opened. “How are you feeling?”
“Mmm, okay.” Cassie nipped at his stubble-covered chin.
“Sweetheart, as much as I want to spend a lifetime in this bed with you, I need to put the plan into motion. And you need to get cleaned up and follow your routine. That includes the feeding tube.”
Cassie stuck out her tongue, and he grabbed it between his lips. Their kiss turned passionate. Against every male instinct, Ian released her.
“You think this is going to work?” she asked.
Ian broke their internal connection, despite growing aroused again. “I do, for us and the other situation.”
Cassie gazed around Ian’s bedroom. The oversized king frame held a luxurious mattress made for cuddling. Its ornately carved bedposts towered to the twelve-foot ceilings. The L-shaped room also contained an enormous gentleman’s dresser with an oval mirror and an armoire. In front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Potomac was a matching ornate writer’s desk. Two regal club chairs were placed on either side of a marble fireplace decorated with carved inlays, with a large painting of Titian’sVenus of Urbinohanging above it. Another door led to a second bedroom.
“Ian, your suite is beautiful.” She stood on the bed to explore one of the posts, then ran her hand along the headboard. “This is an original Charles I bedstead.”
“Mmmhmm, yes, it is. And you are an original too.” Naked, Ian lifted and carried her to the master bathroom, his eyes darkening with arousal. “We need to clean you up.” A large soaking tub dominated the white marble room. “I can’t wait for you to play in the tub with me.”
Dual sinks stood in its entry—each sided by a walk-in closet. The luxurious shower had two rain heads and two marble benches with twenty body jets. Seating Cassie on the bench, he carefully wrapped her thigh in a protective covering. “Were you a Boy Scout? You’re always prepared.”
Ian’s eyes darkened. “Sweetheart, I’m no Boy Scout.”
He placed a new condom on the shower’s soap dish. With one hand, he adjusted the temperature and brought her under the spray. She leaned her head back to feel the warm water’s caress. Turning Cassie to face the wall, he poured shampoo into his palm and rubbed the vanilla-scented liquid into her scalp and through her thick hair. “Mmm, Ian, you don’t know how good this feels.”
“I do.” She was so sexy. His kiss raked the base of her neck as suds streamed down her back. His fingers followed the trail of bubbles until his hands landed upon her bottom. Dropping to his knees, he planted kisses on each curvaceous cheek and worshipped each scar like he had the night before.
Cassie gasped when his fingers slipped inside her warm, wet heat. “Ian!” She steadied her forehead against the cold tiles.
His restraint was waning. “Are you ready for me? I can’t stay away from you.” She groaned while he kissed the length of her spine and enveloped her body with his.
“Hmm, ready.” Cassie’s head fell back against his chest.
Ian pushed his sheathed shaft inside her in one slow, continuous thrust, then she spread her feet and pressed back to meet him. He wrapped her hair around his hand and nibbled her left shoulder. “You are mine forever. I love you, Cassie!”
Her eyes drifted closed. “Ian, I never…” Tears of happiness fell from her eyes.
His fingers moved against her pearl as he withdrew to his tip and filled her again. He maintained his rhythm until pleasure brought them over the edge.
Wrapped in a white fluffy body towel, Cassie stepped from the shower a few minutes after Ian.
“If I didn’t get out of the shower, we were never getting out of here.” Ian looked up from shaving. “What’s wrong?”
“My clothes! Everything was in my room.” He smiled. “This is not funny. I can’t wear a towel or one of your T-shirts. It’s bad enough that Sophie, Monique, and Aunt Rachel—and probably everyone else—will know what we were doing in here.” Her cheeks turned reddish pink as he laughed. “Ian!” She stomped her tiny foot.
“All right. I can’t do this to you anymore. Open the drawer in front of you.” It was stocked with her favorite toiletries and makeup. The next one was filled with new lingerie in her size—all with tags attached. She pursed her lips. “Now open that closet.” The closet was filled with clothing from her favorite shops.
“Eeee.” Cassie saw the shelves covered with a treasure trove of shoes. “You were very sure of yourself, Mr. Chase.” The entire suite was illuminated by her smile. She waggled her finger at him.
Ian grabbed her hand and sucked that finger between his lips. “I’m sure of us, Cassie.”
* * *
