His fingers inched up through my roots and brushed through my hair as he washed out the last of the shampoo. His appreciative hums of the sweet chocolatey smell vibrating down my spine and pooling between my legs. His breathing hitched as I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled myself onto the tips of my toes to kiss him and as I slid back down his body his shaft slipped between my bum cheeks. My blood felt like liquid fire in my veins as his tongue explored every inch of my mouth. He cupped my jaw at just the right angle whilst his other hand cupped my breast. His kiss was hard and desperate and clumsy like he could feel every one of my needy thoughts.
“Turn around, baby,” he rumbled softly into my ear. My feet obeying his request even as he sandwiched me between him and the granite wall. “I want to see you,” he cupped my face and tilted it up to his. His elbows resting lightly on my shoulders. “All of you.”
I don’t think I’d ever seen that look on his face. Whether it was because my ability to think had been compromised or because he’d never looked at me like that, I didn’t know. All I knew was that just then, it didn’t actually feel like he was looking at me at all, right then it felt like his soul was looking into mine. The connection ran so deep that it felt sacred. All the happiness and all the pain culminating into the most cathartic and staggering love.
I couldn’t think to move or speak. I could barely just manage to breathe. His skin felt beautifully hot on mine. Looking into his eyes was like staring straight at everything I’d ever wanted, wished or dreamed. He felt like the home I’d been looking for and never had. This thing that wove us together was invincible, inevitable and inescapable. It was obstinate, wilful and ruthless. It didn’t care about the past or all the things that stood in its way.
“You’ve always been in here, Quincy,” his fist pressed into his chest, “I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realise that you are all of it. Every inch. Every piece. That’s you. Only you.”
What could I say to that?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
I wanted to tell him that he was my heart too, but as I racked my head for the words, I couldn’t find them. I couldn’t vocalise it. I couldn’t even show him it. I was paralysed by his words and their meaning, and the way they reflected everything inside me.
His fingers tangled in my hair as his lips worshipped every inch of mine. His tongue licking into my mouth as he didn’t just take everything he needed from me, but he also gave me everything I needed.
He pulled away suddenly. His hands fisting in my hair as he tugged my head back. My face tilting all the way up to his so that he was looking straight down on me.
“I want everything. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. With you.” His voice was deep and sure and steady. Doubtless. “Every dream you’ve ever had—I want it with you. Everything you’ve ever wanted—I want it with you. You’re everything and every dream I’ve ever wanted and never knew I wanted. I can’t imagine a me without a you and days like today scare the living shit out of me. I can’t live without you. More importantly, I don’t want to.” His eyes closed as he sighed.
His forehead kissed mine and I just couldn’t take my eyes off him if I tried. His words were prying them open. The liquid heat of his blue eyes searing my soul inch by inch as they opened. His dark lashes mingling with mine in the most soothing butterfly kiss.
His thumbs stroked down my cheeks and across my lips. “I want you here every day and every night. I want to hold your hand and I want you to hold mine. I want to kiss you and love you every chance I get.”
His face tilted to the side slightly. His lips just touching mine as he dragged me up his body. My legs circling his waist as his shaft bobbed at my entrance.
“I love you, Quincy Elizabeth Cavendish, and I want nothing more than to fucking show you how much right now…” He flexed his hips up just enough that the tip of his dick pressed inside me. “I really, really want to fuck you right now. I want to love you. But, if we take any longer someone might actually walk in here and drag us out there in our birthday suits.”
A loud, raspy groan ripped through my throat as he lifted me off his shaft and stepped away. His hands holding me up as my legs struggled to fulfil their purpose and hold me up.
Every one of my senses and limbs were discombobulated.
“I still need to give you my present.”
“You do.” I said as my feet finally found the shower floor. My brain catching up with the words that had just come out of my mouth. “I mean, me too.”
I was so excited about his reaction to the antique Craniotomy instruments. I’d had Dorian, Willow and Beth helping me with the online auction. Turned out Beth knew someone who knew someone at the Welsh Auction House. It’d been like stealing candy from a baby, well from Jamie. He’d shown me the listing a few weeks ago and he had been ready to outbid anyone, well…within reason. I’m not even going to lie, seeing his face as the bidding war closed filled me with a sick and mean satisfaction. He had a thing for collecting antique brain surgery instruments, and I’d been at a loss as what to get him for Christmas until he’d shown me the listing, and then I’d just known that that was it.
He leaned forward, a big smile on his lips as he kissed me before he walked out of the shower. The muscles in his delectable arse flexing with each step he took.
How had this happened? How had this man become everything I needed right under my nose and how had I resisted him for so long?
I wasn’t expecting the dinner to be as good as it was. Despite all his macho bravado crap, Jake had done good. Everyone seemed to have enjoyed the food, even Edith with her measly portions. For a moment I thought she was going to do an Oliver Twist and ask for more. She didn’t. More fool her. Still, she seemed to be a little less Edith and a little bit nicer by the end of the meal and her two glasses of wine.
I volunteered to do the cleaning up, seeing as I was meant to have done the dinner but hadn’t. Dorian offered to help. We worked in tandem as we cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen. It didn’t escape me that she sipped her wine measuredly the whole time we were at the table. Every so often Jake would say something to her and she would give him a smile.
“Would you ladies like a top up?”
Think of the Devil.
“Your mum and Gwen are on the Baileys, so if you would prefer—”
“Jake.” Dorian looked at him as she finished rinsing another plate.
He looked at her with the softest look I’d ever seen on his face, giving her an almost imperceptible nod before he wondered back out of the kitchen.
She let out a long and troubled sigh before she continued with her task. She was hurting. I could tell from the way she was rinsing the dishes quietly and stacking them next to the sink where I was loading them into the dishwasher. The way her normally straight and strong posture was sagging. Any other day and she’d have made some smart remark about him.