When we finally arrived at the inn, it took all my strength not to bolt from the car. I walked sedately around to her side and opened the door, half-expecting her to spill out onto the pavement. Instead, she looked up at me with those big, doe eyes and lifted her arms. Shit. Shewantedto be carried.
There was no resisting her silent request.
As I scooped her into my arms, her body molded to mine in ways that made my pulse race. She snuggled closer, her breath warm on my neck as she started nibbling playfully at the skin there. A shiver ran through me, part thrill, part dread. It wasn't just her weight I was carrying; it was the weight of my restraint.
"Your hair smells good," she whispered, weaving her fingers into my locks and tugging gently. "I've never felt like this, Ashton. Never. It's like you unlock something I didn't even know was there."
Every contour of her body pressed against mine, every line and curve that seemed designed to drive me mad.
With each step toward the inn's entrance, her touch stoked the fires within me. This night was going to be one hell of a trial.
"Thank you for the roses. They're beautiful," Erin slurred, her voice a melody that played havoc with my self-control.
"Roses? I didn't send any roses." I frowned as we stepped into the dimly lit entrance of the inn.
"Of course you did." She giggled, pointing unsteadily to the coffee table where a bouquet of blood-red roses sat in a crystal vase.
I put her down gently and approached the flowers, picking up the small card nestled among them. My eyes scanned the elegant script, and my gut tightened. It just had her name. Who the hell had sent these?
"Who else might have sent these?" I asked, turning back to her.
She shook her head, her smile fading slightly. "No one. I've never gotten flowers in my life. Until you bought some for me the other day."
Picking her up, I started up the stairs. I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that settled on me like a shroud. The mafia. Could they stillbe after her?
Dragging my attention away from the mystery of the roses, I focused on getting Erin to her room. Her fingers clung to my t-shirt as if I were her lifeline, her touch sending jolts of electricity through my body. I got her inside her room, but breaking free from her grasp was like trying to peel away super glue.
Don't get me wrong. I loved the feel of her in my arms, but the desire and need to possess her was too strong. I wouldnottake advantage of her while she was drunk.
"Okay, you need to rest," I said.
She wasn't listening. With a fluid motion that surprised me in her drunken state, she stripped, leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor. My breath hitched in my throat. There she stood, bare and utterly breathtaking. The moonlight streamed through the window, caressing her curves and painting her skin with silver. It took every ounce of willpower not to respond to the primal urge to touch her, to claim her.
"Beautiful," I whispered, almost choking on the word. I had to remind myself to breathe. She looked at me expectantly, her eyes gleaming with innocence and intoxication. I wanted her, fuck, how I wanted her. Not like this. Not when she couldn't truly want me back.
"Erin, get under the covers," I said hoarsely, averting my gaze and willing my body to obey my command. Thiswas torture of the sweetest kind, and it was all I could do not to succumb to the temptation before me.
Erin's hands reached out, finding mine with a surprising firmness given her inebriated state. She guided me to touch her bare skin, one hand coming to rest on the soft fullness of her breast, the other pressing against the warmth of her mound. My entire being screamed to shed my clothes and join her in the most primal way. But I couldn't, wouldn't cross that line. This wasn't how I envisioned our first time—stolen in a haze of alcohol where true consent was a murky, distant shore.
"Erin, we can't—" My protest was feeble even to my own ears.
"Please," she said, a plea wrapped in a giggle, and pulled us both into the soft give of the bed. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging me down. The restraint I had held onto so tightly frayed as her desire filled my senses.
With a deep breath, I focused on her need, determined to provide some relief without crossing that boundary. My hands moved over her, learning the shape of her body and drawing soft moans from her lips. Her body responded to my touch, arching and writhing as I moved my hands over her smooth skin. I admired the way her body trembled and twitched beneath my touch. The soft moans escaping her lips were like sweet melodies to my ears. My fingers trailed acrossher collarbone, down her flat stomach, and lower still... stopping just short of where she needed me most.
"Ashton," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Please..."
I knew exactly what she wanted, but I also knew that this was a line we shouldn't cross. Still, the heat emanating from her body and the way she arched into my touch made it difficult to resist. With a deep breath, I leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the sensitive spot behind her ear, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. "I'm here for you," I said against her skin before moving back slightly.
Her eyes fluttered open, searching mine for reassurance. "I need you," she said, her voice quiet above the soft rustling of the sheets. "So much it nearly hurts."
She was vulnerable before me in a way that made my heart ache. Swallowing hard, I slid my hands underneath her thighs and lifted them up so that she was opened to me. I leaned in closer, taking in the sweet scent of her arousal as it wafted upwards. My lips brushed against the inside of her thigh, sending tingles through my entire body as they contacted her sensitive skin.
"Do you trust me?" I asked hesitantly as I placed small kisses along her inner thigh.
"Yes," she whispered. "Completely."
I nodded softly as I took a deep breath. "Then just relax and let me take care of you," I said, hoarse with emotion.
