Those were the last coherent words out of his mouth, his eyes drifting shut, his breathing ragged as she brought him to the brink, then finished him with her fist, pleasure scorching through him as he came, leaving him out of breath.

He felt the bed shift and opened his eyes to see Laura reaching for a tissue. She wiped off her hand, dropped the tissue in the trash, then reached for another. He took it from her, cleaned himself off, then drew her into his arms.

“If tonight was supposed to be about you, why am I the one who just came?”

* * *

LAURA NESTLED AGAINST Javier’s chest, wanting him to understand but not sure she could explain. “If you think I didn’t enjoy that, you’re wrong. I haven’t been able to give anything to a man since we were together. It was all just . . . taken.”

Taken, stolen, beaten from her.

But tonight she’d been able to bring pleasure to a man she cared deeply about while staying in control. It had been intensely erotic to see his muscular body straining against her touch, to watch him come apart when he’d climaxed, his muscles tensing, his body arching off the bed, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Watching you, seeing the effect I had on you—I loved it.”

It had been more than a little arousing. The aching wetness between her thighs was proof of that. She hadn’t felt this sexually alive since . . .

Of course, it had been much easier to focus on him than to have his attention—and his hands—on her. This way, she hadn’t had to worry that she might freak out and make him feel rejected.

She could see on Javier’s face that he didn’t understand, but that was probably because she hadn’t explained it very well.

He stroked her hair. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to do to you what you just did to me?”

She felt a clench deep in her belly, her pulse spiking partly out of fear and partly out of raw sexual need. It had been so long since she’d viewed her body as a source of pleasure rather than a weapon to be used against her. “I . . . I don’t know.”

“Would you let me try?”

Her pulse raced faster. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings or—”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do, but it would help me if you told me what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m afraid of hurting your feelings, of damaging our friendship.”

“And I told you that is never going to happen.”

She might as well come out with it. “There are . . . some things you should know. You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant because I had my tubes tied. I had never planned on having children anyway, and after what happened . . .”

He could understand that.

“Also, I don’t know how I would feel about you being on top of me or inside me and . . . and no anal play.”

“I thought we agreed in Dubai that neither of us was into that last one.” Understanding dawned on his face. “Aw, God, Laura, no. I’m so sorry.”

She blinked back tears, willing herself to look straight into his eyes. “My body was a battleground for so long, and I . . . I don’t know how to let you get closer.”

He sat up and ran his knuckles over her cheek. “I can think of a thousand ways to make love to you, bella, a thousand ways to satisfy you. Forget about everything but us. Just let me touch you. Tell me what feels good.”

His words sent a tremor through her, hope warring with despair inside her.

He teased her lips with his, traced their outline with his tongue, nipped them with his teeth, tiny bites that brought only pleasure. And her lips began to burn. Then he claimed her mouth with a slow, deep kiss that she knew would drive darker thoughts from her mind—if she let it.

Don’t think. Feel.

She leaned into him, her lips parting for him, her tongue accepting his, the warmth of his body and his strength seeming to surround her. By the time he broke the kiss, they were both breathless, Laura’s heart pounding so hard she was certain he could feel it against his chest.

“Laura, mi amor.” One of his hands slid into her hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat, his lips pressing kisses against her cheeks, his tongue teasing the whorl of her ear, his teeth nipping the tender skin just above her pulse.

Shivers danced across Laura’s skin, her breath coming in sighs.

“I want to see you. I want to feel you. Can I take this off?” One hand tugged on her bra strap.

“Yes.”

He sought for the clasp, unhooked it, then tossed her bra aside, leaning back to look at her. His brown eyes went black as he stared at her breasts, her nipples drawing tighter under the heat of his perusal. “So beautiful. I want to touch and taste you the way you touched and tasted me.”

She nodded.

Don’t think. Feel.

He cupped and lifted her breasts, his thumbs making slow circles over her areolas, the sensation sweet, shards of heat splintering through her, the ache between her thighs growing stronger. “Do you like that?”

“Oh, yes!”

He teased her nipples with the pads of his thumbs, caressed them with his palms, pinched and rolled them with his fingertips. Then with a moan, he arched her back, bent down, and began to suckle her, the wonderful sensation making Laura gasp.

She heard herself exhale in a long, trembling sigh, feeling the heat of his mouth and the friction of his tongue all the way to her womb. She grasped his shoulders and held on, every tug of his lips heightening her need for him, until her hips began to shift impatiently beneath her, the ache inside her begging to be answered.

Javier withdrew his mouth, making her moan in frustration. He turned her, brought her hips square with the edge of the bed, then knelt between her thighs. “Now I can reach all of you.”

“Yes, Javi, please!”

He leaned in, cupping one breast with his hand, holding it for his mouth, his tongue flicking lightly over the aching, puckered bud while the other hand slid slowly, agonizingly down her side, over the curve of her hip, along the outside of her thigh and up the inside again, his fingers teasing and tickling her skin. “Is it okay if I touch you—”

Before he could finish asking the question, her hips answered for her, moving against his hand.

He grinned, his finger seeking and finding her clitoris. “I don’t get why women are afraid of how they look here. You are so damned hot, Laura, and so wet. I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

Her heart gave a hard knock.

He began to stroke her, teasingly at first, his mouth finding her nipples and suckling her again, the two sensations together almost more than she could handle, the ache inside her making it impossible to hold still. Her hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, her anticipation building.

When his mouth left her breasts it was almost a relief because she knew where he was headed. But he wasn’t in a hurry to get there. He trailed kisses over her rib cage and down to her belly, flicking her overly sensitive skin with his tongue, making her body jerk just as she’d done to him earlier.

Without breaking the rhythm he’d built with his hand, he ducked one shoulder down and then the other, catching her thighs, nudging them farther apart. “Mmm . . . Beautiful.”

But rather than putting his mouth on her, he began to kiss and nibble her inner thighs, the exquisite sensation raising bumps on her skin, making her shiver.

She sank backward onto the bed and lifted her feet onto his shoulders, all hesitation fading in the face of his sensual onslaught.

“Oh, yeah, bella, open for me.” He parted her labia, lowered his mouth to her, and tasted her with a single long lick.

She gasped, her back arching, her fingers curling in his hair.

He licked her again and got the same response, his groan proof that he was enjoying the sight and taste of her. He flicked her clit with his tongue, drew it into his mouth, and sucked, tugging on her with his lips.

Laura had forgotten what it felt like to have a man’s mouth on her, had forgotten the staggering pleasure of it. She buried her fingers in his hair, let her knees fall open to give him more room, and was rewarded with a deep groan, the low sound sending vibrations through her swollen flesh.

She was trembling now, her breath coming in pants and gasps, his mouth working magic. Some part of her had longed for this, longed to give herself to him, to be strung out on him, to reel out of control at his touch. Oh, God, it was sweet!

But that delicious ache inside her—it wouldn’t go away. She felt a throbbing emptiness, her body yearning to be filled, needing to be filled.

She panted out the words. “Inside me.”

With a moan, he slipped a finger and then two inside her, stretching her, filling her with slick, deep strokes, driving her toward the edge.

And then she was flying, orgasm shimmering through her in blazing, golden waves, the bliss of it tearing a cry from her throat as she was lifted skyward, then left to float breathless and weightless among the clouds.

After a time—she couldn’t say how long—Javier drew her into a sitting position, scooped her into his arms, and lowered her to her pillow, stretching out beside her. His gaze was warm, his lips wet, his skin drenched in her scent.

“A thousand ways?” Tremors of pleasure still shivered through her.

He smiled, ran a finger over her lower lip. “That was just one.”

CHAPTER

22