And, like a miracle, she’d taken his as well.
Chapter 29
Neither spoke as they entered the suite. The heavy door closed behind her and Hannah walked to the middle of the room, shocked at what Stephen did to her. Taking her from sick and wishing herself into a hole, to bold and hungry in seconds.
She’d tried to get away from that disgusting man at the party but then he’d grabbed her, his fat fingers digging into her upper arm, and—she hadn’t wanted to dance with him, hadn’t wanted him to touch her. Had she yelled it?
Hot hands came down on her bare shoulders and her pulse jumped before she settled. Stephen, who made her feel safe and secure even as he made everything inside her quake. She heard the brush of fabric just before his jacket landed on the couch to her right. His tie followed, hit the cushion, and slid to the floor.
Warm lips pressed against the sensitive curve between neck and shoulder, held there, and it somehow did more than a thousand kisses. Like everything about Stephen and what he did to her was more. She let her head drop back to his chest.
He tugged the strip of silk from her fingers. “I’m tempted to order up some chocolate mousse, though somehow I don’t think they’ll get here in time.”
His voice rumbled through her and she felt his smile against her skin. Just like that, he chased away her insecurities, made everything right. She’d seen the anger in his eyes, felt the restrained rage in his body. Knew he fought it for her sake.
He smoothed his palms down her arms and back up again. Traced his lips along the line of hair at her nape. It was all she could do to breathe when he scraped his teeth along her throat. Shuddered when he placed hot, openmouthed kisses over the sting. Chills broke out on her arms when he traced the tip of his tongue around the outside of her ear, bit down gently on the lobe.
“I never danced with you tonight.”
He said it softly, with more than a hint of seduction that sent a thrilling buzz down her spine. “That’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.” His hands slid around to cover her lower belly, then stroked up her sides, stopping just short of where he’d had his mouth minutes ago.
“Have you ever danced with anyone? Stood in a man’s arms while he held you close and swayed to music?”
He pulled her back until she felt him hard against her lower back and a burst of heat flared between her legs. “You know I haven’t.”
“I didn’t.” He turned her, stared down, his eyes intense. “I do now. I’ll be your first dance.”
You’re my first everything.
She met his eyes. “There’s no music.”
“We don’t need any. Put your hands around my neck.”
She did, sliding them up his chest as she went, following the contour of muscle through his shirt. All the strength and power of a savage fighter wrapped up in a sophisticated package. That was Stephen.
With her arms wrapped tight around his neck and his hands firm on her bottom, they moved together to some silent song they both heard.
“I’m glad you were with me tonight. And I’m glad we’re here.” He ran a hand up her back and under her hair and tugged. When he crushed his mouth to hers she felt it all the way to her toes.
Hungry and hurried, desperate and drugging, until her knees were weak and Stephen was the only thing holding her up. Her fingers bit into his neck, combed through the softness of his thick, black hair. She pressed closer, sucked the breath from his lungs when his erection pressed against her belly. Stephen bit out a curse, then lifted her off her feet and walked them both into the bedroom.
The lights were turned down low like the restaurant of their first date. A gas fire danced behind glass. The air was heavy and thick with anticipation as Stephen stood her beside the massive bed.
His lids were heavy, eyes so intense she couldn’t look away. The tension and ferocity had drained out of him, to be replaced by something else. Something she wasn’t entirely sure she understood.
But she wanted to, she thought, as he slid the pins from her hair, unfastened the braid, and loosened it all until it fell around her like a cape. Her heart hammered in her chest when he slowly slipped his fingers under the straps of her dress. Stopped altogether when he smoothed his palms over her shoulders, taking the thin strips as he went. Down her arms, not stopping until the silk dropped in a pool around her feet.
Warm air rushed her body as she stood exposed. On the edge of a cliff in a strong wind. She took a slight step back.
“Don’t.”
He caught her by the shoulders, that one word low and rough. And though her instinct was to run, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t move away from this man who knew her enough to know she wanted to.
She’d never get used to the way he looked at her, like he was looking at someone else. Like she wasn’t herself, couldn’t be, standing there in nothing but black lace panties and heels.
His hot gaze raked over her and she shook inside and out. To the point she could barely breathe. To the point he had to see it.
“You’re so beautiful. I don’t know where to touch you first.”
“Anywhere.” Everywhere.
He made a sound low in his throat, almost a growl, and reached past her, tore back the bedding and deposited her on the enormous bed.
“Look at you. So beautiful and spread out before me like a feast.”
She lay there on the silk sheets, the mattress soft and plush as a cloud, thinking so was he, tall and sinfully gorgeous, standing beside the bed like a god. Then his shirt fell away and her thoughts scattered.