Let Them Talk
Page 43
Sean barely heard her splintered commands and incoherent encouraging words. Isabel gasped and went rigid as her orgasm tore through her. He felt as if his heart was going to leap out of his chest as he watched her wrestle with the intense pleasure.
His pace grew faster and unpredictable as the need clawed through him. The only time he’d ever been this wild was when he’d first made love to Isabel. That troubling thought dissolved as quickly as it had formed. Sean gave a hoarse shout before he found his release and succumbed to the blinding hot sensations that stormed through him.
* * *
SHE’D DONE IT AGAIN...
Isabel lay on her back, sprawled across the bed. Her chin stung from being scratched by Sean’s stubble. Her skin was slick with sweat and her hair was plastered against her head.
She stared at the ceiling wondering how she could feel exhausted and yet vibrantly alive. She tried to ignore the fact that the aftermath of their wild lovemaking was quiet. Subdued. The only thing she heard was her heart pounding in her ears and her unsteady breath when she gulped in air.
Once again, she had shown a part of her true self to a man who had too much power over her. Why did she do that with Sean? When had she started trusting him?
She couldn’t keep her hands off him. She had told him what she wanted and demanded to have it happen right that minute. She had no idea what had come over her. She had never been that vocal or that demanding in bed.
How could Sean want something comfortable instead of this?
She turned her head and saw Sean next to her. He was lying on his stomach, his masculine body at odds with the white floral sheets. His blond hair was tousled and his eyes were closed. Isabel noticed that he wasn’t breathing hard and she wondered if he had fallen asleep. How could he be sleeping when she was so jittery from the joy rushing through her veins?
Her gaze traveled from his wide shoulders and strong back to his tight ass and powerful thighs. She was tempted to reach out and caress Sean. Wake him up, turn him over and explore his body with her mouth.
Sean’s eyes suddenly opened and he captured her gaze. It was as if he could read her mind. Isabel wanted to look away. She knew her eyes expressed the hunger and the happiness she felt. She wanted to share it with Sean, but at the same time, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Was he going to bolt out of bed and act as though it had never happened? Say it was a mistake never to be repeated? She was tempted to drag the bedsheet over her body as a way to protect herself.
Or was it going to be worse? What if he considered this comfortable sex? Her stomach twisted at the thought. She knew she wasn’t as experienced as he was but she’d had plenty of satisfactory and adequate sex in her lifetime. This was not it!
“Give all the power to me, huh?” he teased in a rough voice.
She felt her face turn bright red. “I tried but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t hear you complaining.” In fact, he had encouraged her. The excitement shining from his eyes made her grow more daring. “I’m sure with more practice...”
There was an awkward beat of silence and Sean looked away. Oops. Isabel pressed her lips together as she refrained from adding to her words. She had gone too far and made too many assumptions.
She had felt safe enough with him to express her fantasies and she’d hoped he felt the same way. But his fantasy was the opposite of hers. He wanted her to hide her sensual nature from the rest of the world, assuming it would save her some trouble.
Sean shifted to face her. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave her bed as he glanced around her small bedroom. “I should have guessed that your place would look like this.”
“Oh?” She glanced around, wondering how he saw it. Sometimes she wondered if the soft yellow walls, white bedding and simple wood furniture were too sedate. If this meant she was too sedate. And yet, she didn’t want to change a thing in her room.
“It’s feminine and refined. Just like you.” Sean reached out to brush her damp hair from her face as if he couldn’t help himself. As if he needed to hold on to some physical connection, no matter how small. “It’s not at all like the room you have in your father’s house.”
“I didn’t pick anything in that room,” she said. “My mother decorated it.”
“Really?” he said as his hand trailed down her jaw.
Isabel chuckled lightly as she understood his surprise. “She designed the room she never had. She always wanted a canopy bed and she loved the color pink. I was always envious of my friends’ rooms, even if they had to share it with their sisters. Those rooms reflected their personalities.”
He brushed his thumb against her reddened lips. “You could have changed it.”