Page 60 of Into These Eyes

Our gaze holds as he frees his hands and curls his fingers into the waistband, gradually drawing them down my thighs.

The sensation flushes my skin and weakens my knees.

When he finally breaks eye contact to help me out of them, my legs tremble.

I know without a doubt he can see the dampness I’ve left behind.

But I don’t care. Let him see what he does to me.

My fingers slip from his hair as he rises, and it’s impossible to hide the tremors as I trail them down his arms.

“Jamie, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Nerves,” I whisper, angling my gaze to his chest in the hope he can’t see how utterly pathetic I am.

Thirty-two years old and I may as well be a fucking virgin.

Now that the reality’s looming ever closer, how can I not wonder if it’s going to hurt all over again?

Or if having sex with him will ruin everything that’s made our time together so wonderful over the past few weeks.

Gently taking my chin in his grasp, he forces my eyes to his. “Relax. We won’t do anything you don’t want to. I only want to make you feel good.”

Suddenly, he sweeps me into his arms, forcing me to cling to him as he carries me to the couch and takes a seat. Snuggling me sideways on his lap, he sinks a hand into my hair and angles my head, so I have no choice but to look at him.

“Talk to me,” he murmurs. “Remember your rule.”

God, it feels so good to be this close to him.

He’s not angry or frustrated with me. He’s showing me how much he cares, that it’s not about my body, but what I feel and think.

He’s showing me it’s more to him than just sex.

“I’m scared. If my parents have taught me anything, it’s that getting close to someone only leads to pain. ”

“Everything bad that happened with your parents was because they weren’t with the right person,” he states with conviction. “That was between them. This is between us. And we are with the right person. So, forget that fear. Anything else?”

I open my mouth to say it’s not that simple, but close it again. Because he has a point. We weren’t torn apart by fate. Fate has thrust us together, almost as if it’s trying to make up for the mistake it made with our parents. I want to embrace that belief, but it’s not my only fear.

“I’m scared that this will change things, that we’re going too fast.”

“What scares me, after living a life where nothing changes, is that things won’t change,” he says, his voice raw with emotion again.

“We can’t go on ignoring this chemistry between us.

The sparks are flying, ready to ignite one way or another.

We can’t keep asking what if … we need to start living and feeling.

” He presses his palm to my chest. “You can’t hide this huge heart of yours from me anymore, J. ”

My hand tightens at the nape of his neck, his words penetrating the fear.

“And I don’t think we’re going too fast,” he continues. “I think we’ve been going painfully slow.”

“Slow?”

He lets out a huff of a laugh. “Let’s see … by my calculations, we’ve been on about twenty dates and a couple of mini-breaks.”

I chuckle. “What’re you talking about?”

“Dinner together every night,” he explains, his thumb brushing my cheek, “Weekends spent in each other’s company. Sound familiar?”

Trailing my fingers from his neck, I glide them down his chest and into the open gap of his shirt. When I stop at the first button, I undo it with steady fingers. As I undo the next button, and the next, I say, “I suppose … that’s a pretty convincing argument.”

His arm tightens around me, his eyes searching mine. “I see you, J. I saw you when I didn’t even know you. But now that I do, I never want to look away.”

His words make my heart jolt. “I see you, too.”

Before I can register what’s happening, I’m flat on my back, one hand trapped above my head in his grasp as he presses his body to my side, his eyes dark with hunger.

“I need some clarification on something,” he mumbles, that sexy, lopsided smile sending aching waves between my legs. “I’ve been wondering about that toy of yours.”

I gape at him. “Please don’t wonder anything about that.”

“I was wondering,” he insists, his voice broken with heat, “if your little toy can kiss you like this?”

He lowers his head, and finally, finally , our lips touch.

Brushing his mouth over mine, he explores my lips, pressing and gently applying suction, then pulling back and starting all over again.

This kiss, this pure care and exploration, is the sort of kiss I believe only a man who loves me would be capable of.

My mind spins. I could never have imagined I’d fall so hopelessly in love with the man I despised for so long. The way he’s kissing me, the way he talks to me, all the little touches and looks, makes me believe he feels the same way.

With my love desperate to burst from my chest, I grip his shoulder and crush him to me so I can feel his pounding heart.

And then he opens his mouth, angles his lips over mine and kisses me with restrained passion. I groan, slip my fingers into his hair and lean into his erection, letting him know I want everything he has to offer.

Our mouths, soft and yielding, then firm and coaxing, continue to experiment and explore each other. When his tongue slides between my lips and meets mine, his chest rumbles with pleasure, shooting hot spikes of desire through my entire body.

Lifting his head, his craving eyes stare into mine.

“Well?” he rasps.

It’s only then I remember his earlier question “No,” I whisper, “it can’t kiss me like that.”

“Can it make your skin tingle like this?”

He brushes his lips over my jaw, and I tilt my chin up, giving him access to my throat. His mouth sucks and tastes, teeth gently nipping as he makes his way down the side of my neck. And he’s right. The way his short beard tickles my skin, has me tingling all over.

“No,” I breathe, so turned on, I can’t remember why I was ever nervous.

When his hand glides over the curve of my waist, I clutch his wrist, encouraging him higher. He watches my face as he cups my breast. Sighing, I close my eyes and arch into his palm.

I want to touch him so badly, but he’s interlocked our fingers above my head, and I’ll only interfere with this sensuous game he’s playing if I move my other arm.

“Can that toy undress you like this?” he asks, tugging at the knot behind my neck until the fabric releases.

Like he’s unwrapping a precious gift, he peels down one side of my halter, revealing one naked, waiting breast.

“No,” I answer, my exposed nipple tightening painfully.

Those black pools ringed by decadent slivers of blue, shift from my gaze and take in the sight of my uncovered breast. His chest expands on a long inhale.

“Jamie … you’re so, so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick and broken. With incredible tenderness, his palm brushes over my tight nipple, sending such a sharp stab of heat between my thighs, I rock my hips into him, seeking more.

“Gavin,” I breathe. “I want your mouth … your tongue …”

He stares at me, apparently as surprised by my words as I am.

Thank God, I don’t have to ask twice. He dips his head, his warm lips grazing over my skin until he cups my breast and brings his down on my nipple.

Drawing me in, his tongue swirls over the pebbled flesh, dragging a groan from my throat.

Giving in to the need to touch him, I squirm my free hand between us and palm his erection through his trousers. When his hips grind forward, I curl my fingers around his thick cock, feeling the vibration of his growl on my nipple as I squeeze.

Impatient, I frantically work on his buckle, his button, his zipper. Over his tight boxers, I slide my palm up and down the hot length of him and discover he’s leaking into the waistband. A shiver of satisfaction courses through me. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one with damp underwear.

While I explore, he draws my nipple into his mouth with more force, sending a spike of pleasure straight to my clit. And I need more. I need him bare in my hand.

When I dip my fingers beneath his waistband, he captures my wrist and raises his head, his breaths harsh and ragged. “I’ll come if you do that. You’ve got me so worked up, I’m way too close already.”

I smile, loving that he’s barely in control.

Studying me with a glint of mischief, he grumbles, “Think that’s amusing, do you?”

I nod.

“Let’s see how you like it.” Forcing my hand above my head, he secures both wrists in his firm grasp.

Crushing his lips to mine, his tongue delves in a way that shows me it’s not the only part of his body that wants deep inside me.

And I welcome it, want it. Something new and bold is awakening inside me, something that wants everything, that pushes aside all my inexperience and tells me to surrender.

And I do. I let go and give myself to him completely.

Turning me on my side so we’re face to face, and I’m firmly supported by the back of the couch, he tugs his shirt free of his trousers.

Yanking at it impatiently, the last few buttons I hadn’t managed to undo suddenly pop into the air, before clicking somewhere on the floorboards.

As I let out a giggle, he spreads his shirt wide and crushes his hot, hard chest against my bare breast. The touch of our naked skin fizzes my blood like an electric current.

I’ve never heard the noises leaving my throat before, but I’m not embarrassed.

He’s making them too, and it’s fucking wonderful.

Skating his palm up my thigh, he slides the hem of my dress around my waist. Then he hooks my knee over his hip, leaving me fully exposed.

Grabbing my arse, he rocks into me, grinding his erection against my bare clit, the fabric of his boxers creating a frustrating friction. I writhe against him, needing more, needing everything. God, I could come like this. I need to release all this pent-up arousal.

Suddenly he holds me still, his breaths hard and fast as his fingertips tease the bare flesh of my backside with slow, gentle circles that border on painful.

He gives me a devilish grin. “Can that toy of yours touch you like this?”

His fingers gently glide over my slippery centre and through my folds, stopping just short of my clit.

“No,” I breathe, my body trembling in anticipation.

“Who do you think can make you come harder? Me or your toy?” he asks, circling my clit with a feather-light tease.

“You. Oh, God, Gavin … you .”

“Damn fucking right.”

Watching my face, he eases a thick finger deep inside me. I groan, incapable of holding back the effect he’s having on me as his thumb drags over my slick nerve endings.

His chest rumbles in return and he drops his head, trailing his lips up my throat until he finds my ear. “Christ, J. Fuck … I knew you’d feel like heaven.”

With his gravelly voice right in my ear, those words are like an ignition switch.

No one’s ever touched me like this. And I know it’s not just his touch.

It’s him . It’s everything that makes him Gavin Lake.

I shamelessly rock against him, seeking just the right pressure as my release rushes toward me.

Carefully, he slides another finger inside, crooking them just right, his thumb gliding and circling, my arousal soaking him as I ride his hand and whimper.

“Fuck, J, that’s it … let go … come all over me. Let me feel it.”

His deep, rough voice takes me over the edge.

“Gavin … oh fuck. Fuck … yes!”

Undulating against him, I come with such incredible intensity, sparks dance behind my eyes as my muscles contract and spasm around his fingers.

Suddenly, light flares behind my closed lids.

My eyes snap open, my orgasm still roaring through me. Gavin’s whole body stiffens, his eyes filled with the same shock and confusion as mine.

“Jamie?” a familiar voice calls, “I’m home.”