Just one kiss.
I meant it, even as a sudden flush spread over me. For months I lived in a cold shell, denying my femininity, hiding the life inside me. Now?
Kissing wasn’t enough.
It had to be.
How could I fight my own desire?
My pulse pounded hard in my ears, and I groaned against his lips.
“One hug,” I whispered. “A little closer?”
Nicholas nodded, unmoving, still kneeling before me. “One hug.”
I shifted from the couch, twisting my fingers within his. My body vibrated near him, pulsing with a raw energy. He let me pull myself into him. Our chests met, our bodies pushed together, and I rested my head against the solid strength of his shoulder.
His arms captured me.
Comforted.
His sharp scent pulled me from my nightmares and guided me into the gentle fantasy of skin against skin, warmth feeding warmth, and the fullness of what had once been perfection.
It was still perfection.
The twisting need ached within me. I swallowed, parting my lips before returning to his. My words wavered.
“Same kiss.”
“As many as you need,” he promised.
All of them? More of them? Just us, in honest imperfection.
Confidence and passion blended into a dizzying haze. I craved more.
The Bennetts warred to steal my body, but the true battle waged within my own heart and mind.
I had to stop, but my core warmed with the first flicker of passion I felt since the choice had been taken from me. Stopping now would hurt more than what I endured that night.
“Nick…” I whispered, brushing my lips against his. I welcomed the softness of his tongue against mine. “I need more.”
“Anything.” His words deepened, silken, layered with heat. “Anything you ask, Sarah.”
“I need…”
“Anything.”
“Pleasure.” It wasn’t a question or a demand. “Just one moment of pleasure.”
“More than one.”
It would only take one to renew me.
I pressed my trembling body against his strength, his muscles, his presence. How could I feel whole if I didn’t experience that one fundamental gift that passed man to woman, lover to lover?
I pulled away, taking the chance, giving what I chose to give. I lifted my shirt, casting it away. Nicholas didn’t move. His eyes feasted on my softening body, lingering over the fullness of my chest and the yet imperceptible swell from our Bumper.
“Just one look?” His smile warmed everywhere his hands had yet to touch.
“Just one.” My whisper wound us in secret. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a perfect man, healthy and strong and bursting with the masculine energy I once loved. Dreaded. Needed.
The definition of his pecs thrilled me. So did the shadowed ripple of his abs and the hollow V stretching beneath the waistband of his pants. Nicholas was the most amazing man I had ever seen.
And he had been mine.
Was mine.
Could still be mine.
I stood, looping my fingers in the soft skirt. It didn’t take courage to shed the last bit of protection from my body, only acceptance of what I felt for him. The bra tumbled next. I knew he’d recognize the changes in my body. The softness. The heaviness of my breasts.. I warmed without his touch.
I laid his palm over my breast. His fingers caressed the silky skin. I gasped.
“Too much?” he lifted his palm.
“Sensitive.” I shuddered as his rough fingertips brushed my nipple. “Very sensitive.”
“Good?”
I hadn’t touched myself for so long, hadn’t let myself feel much beyond the towel after a shower or a tangle of sheets at my feet. I liked it. I’d missed it.
I arched into his hand. Nicholas needed no further instruction. My tiny purr silenced as I pulled him into the kiss. His touch massaged a sudden ache, and he teased a sensitivity heightened within the past weeks. I murmured against his lips, and his fingers claimed my hardened nipple. He pinched.
My mind exploded in sensation and need.
All I had to do was ask and he’d give. All I had to do was whisper stop, and, he’d stop. No questions. No hesitations. He’d release me.
And I trusted him to honor that.
But I didn’t want him to stop.
I pushed my neck to his mouth. The warmth of his breath cascaded in tingling excitement over my body. The sensation coursed through my blood, heating everything in its path.
It centered low. In the one place I hadn’t acknowledged in weeks. Now I couldn’t help but tremble with every pulse, every clench. The slickness.
His soft kisses traced over my neck, my shoulder, and slowed at the curve of my breast. He waited for permission.
I folded my fingers within his and guided myself into pleasure.
His lips sealed over my nipple. An instant excitement buzzed my skin. I gripped his hand as each draw of his tongue against the tender bud sizzled through me.
He moved slowly, his fingertips hovering under the new swell of my breast. I guided him, letting him cup the exciting fullness that, so far, had been the only perk of my condition.
That changed now.
He rolled his tongue over my nipple, and the slow, teasing draw of his suckling drew a murmured groan from me. Each leisurely nip tightened my core and delighted me in lick and bite.
The changes to my body frightened me, but they excited Nicholas. He teased the plumpness of my chest with trailed promises along my skin. I shivered, letting him kiss, letting myself enjoy what he did. His lips tightened over the bud, tugging it to watch as I squirmed away from the overwhelming sensation.
“How’s that?” he whispered, switching to lap at my other breast.
“Not enough.”
“What can I do?”
I knew exactly what he could do—stretch the moment of pleasure into minutes, into hours, time that belonged only to us. My voice weakened, but only because my own desire softened me beyond comprehension.
“Just one taste.”
The gold in his eyes flashed. The temptation stirred him more than I anticipated. But it didn’t deter me. Just the opposite. I trembled as my core clenched hard in sudden wanting. Nicholas felt the same. A hardness bulged against his pants. An invitation.
“I won’t lie.” Nicholas hadn’t moved. “I want you, Sarah. I want to show you how much I’d cherish you. Love you. Protect you.”
“Just one taste.”
“For as long as you wish.”
Even infinite pleasure wouldn’t ease the ache in me. What I wanted wasn’t his strong touch or skillful tease.
I wanted him.
All of Nicholas Bennett.
And I could have it so easily if I just asked.
He waited as I tucked my fingers in my panties. I was so used to him stripping me, him overwhelming me, him taking me. I never understood how much of a thrill it gave him to watch as my body was revealed. Goosebumps raced over my curves. The cool air teased my hardened nipples, swollen from his suckling.
The panties slipped over my hips, dragged across the paleness of my legs, and kicked off at my toes.
Completely naked.
Completely exposed.
Completely vulnerable and endangered and at his will.
And yet, he looked upon me like I was a goddess, a vision of perfection, of everything pure I once was.
That I still was.
“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispered. “Christ, Sarah, I missed you so much.”
I didn’t answer or I would have screamed the truth. I missed him too.
I missed his touch, his lips, his body, the feel of him within me as I clung to a man stronger and fiercer than any other. It was wrong of me to encourage it. I teased us both with the possibilities of us and a life and a baby, but tonight wasn’t about a lost future.
It was about me. Fixing what was shattered.
I rested against the couch, taking the initiative and guiding Nicholas over me.
“Just one taste,” I said. “Just one, so I remember how it feels.”
Nicholas leaned down to kiss me, beginning low at my toes and drawing a ticklish line up the goose bumped skin twitching under his touch.
“One taste,” he promised. “And you’ll never forget again.”