I’m silent, and his hand stills in my hair. I feel his heartbeat quicken as he waits for me to respond. “I won’t,” I say softly. “I won’t.”
I fall asleep in Landon’s arms. Peacefully, without any miserable dreams where I’m alone and yearning for him. He’s everywhere, his arms cradling me, his scent in my nose, and his warmth all around me.
When I wake up in the morning, he’s already up. I open my eyes to see him standing at the door to the dressing room, already dressed in one of his tailored shirts and pants. He’s fixing his cufflinks and watching me as I stretch.
“Good morning,” I say with a grin.
He smiles. “I was trying to decide if I had the heart to wake you up. You looked like you were having a good time.”
“I was.” I slept like a baby. I stretch again, then remember that I have to get to work. I grab my phone off the nightstand to look at the time. “Christ! I’m going to be late! I have to get home to change.”
Landon’s smile is calm, almost teasing. “Don’t worry.” He walks towards the bed. “Joe already got your clothes. Laurie was very helpful.”
I calm down. “Really? What are you? Some sort of super boyfriend?”
His gaze turns serious. “I’d settle for boyfriend.”
My heart warms, as a small thrill moves through me. Landon’s looking at me, waiting for me to say something. “You never told me what it is you wanted that I couldn’t give.”
I shake my head. “It’s not…” I stop, not sure what to say. I know that I don’t want just any relationship, that I want the possibility of love at least, and an assurance that I won’t just be another woman passing through his life. I take a deep breath and watch as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I know I have a lot of baggage,” he says, “and all the other issues you know about.”
He’s talking about his dreams. The result of being right there and helpless the day his mother died. My eyes mist. “I don’t care about any of that.” I tell him. I don’t care that sometimes he wakes up at night crying out, still struggling to save his mother. I don’t care that by his own admission, years of therapy didn’t do anything to make him less wounded. I care about the man I know he is.
“Every other woman wanted something from me… commitment… some sort of relationship… But I’ve offered you that, Rachel. I didn’t even have to try, because it’s what I want, more than anything, to know that I can be sure that you’re mine.”
His. I search his face. “And you, will you be mine?”
Landon chuckles, and his hand travels up my arm. The movement is a light caress, and yet unmistakably sexual. My body reacts, instantly filling with desire. “I’m already yours,” he admits, his voice low.
What did that mean? That sexually he was bound to me. That he needed me physically the way I needed him?
“It’s just sex, Landon. We’re still practically strangers.”
“So we’ll get to know each other.” He sounds confident, but I’m not. I can see us together for a few weeks, maybe months. We’ll get photographed and attend events together, and then one day, I’ll watch him do the same things with some other woman.
The thought fills my heart with a severe, wrenching
pain. I rise to my knees, leaning towards him, threading my fingers through his hair. If I’m going to be with him, then I have to take advantage of the one way I know to control the pain and the uncertainty. I press my lips to his, running my hands over his chest through the cotton of his shirt.
A soft groan escapes him, then he moves one hand to the small of my back while the other strokes my thigh. My body fills with heat and I let my lips drift to his ear. “I need you,” I whisper.
A deep breath shudders through him, then his lips are on my neck, my chest, with his hands stroking me everywhere. He pulls my t-shirt over my head, leaving me naked. His eyes caress my body almost reverently, his gaze like a heated touch, making my skin burn and my breath come short. Desire pulses between my legs. When he’s like this, when we’re like this, I don’t have to think about what the future holds.
“Rachel.” He says my name like it’s a prayer. He moves, rising to his knees in front of me. His hands cup my breasts, then squeeze gently. I moan and reach for the front of his pants. The outline of his rigid erection is visible through the material. I undo his fly and pull down his briefs, eager to feel the evidence of my effect on him. I curve my fist around him and stroke him gently, loving the feel of warm, silky skin stretched over his hard length.
His eyes close, and I lower my head, adjusting my body so I can take him in my mouth. As my lips close over the sensitive head of his cock, he lets out a low groan. He only allows me to suck on him for a few moments before he pulls out of my mouth and lifts me bodily, pushing me back on the bed. He doesn’t bother with the rest of his clothes. Still on his knees, he pulls me towards him by my legs, until the head of his cock is positioned at the entrance to my body.
I press my hips forward, and the head of his cock slips inside me. He groans again, and my eyes flutter to his face. The brazen arousal in his expression sends an urgent pulse between my legs. “Please, Landon,” I urge. “Fuck me now.”
I don’t need to say it twice. He pushes inside me, filling me up, chasing every other thought from me but how good he feels, how big he is, and the sweet sensations when he starts to move, his thrusts slow and exquisite.
He releases his hold on my legs, letting them fall on the bed. I brace my feet and grind my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. His hands stroke my thighs, my belly, my hips, his fingers caressing my heated skin. Finally, he moves one hand between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing it in sweet, maddening circles.
The room is full of the sound of my moans. With each deep stroke of his cock, I feel myself going a little crazy, pleasure building inside me like a dam ready to burst. I hear myself moaning, saying his name, begging.
“You like it,” his voice is an aphrodisiac to all my senses. “You like it when I fuck you like this.”