Callie watched him, transfixed, her body tingling with every little touch and scorching look he shot her way.
“So how does it work?” she asked.
“Raise your glass, take one sip, let the cognac coat your tongue, and then swallow it.”
He waited until the rim of her glass touched her lips, and then they took a sip at the same time. The powerful taste of the cognac hit her a second later. The thick sweet taste was heavy on her tongue. Wes’s throat worked as he swallowed and she couldn’t help her fascination with the sight of him. Everything he did fascinated her, drew her in, made her hungry to be in bed with him and never leave. How could he have such a potent power over her like that?
“Your eyes are the same color as the cognac,” he mused, as though hypnotized by her. “Makes a man realize how thirsty he is.” He leaned down, his mouth inches from hers. His focus on her sent her stomach in dizzying spirals. It was impossible to ignore the feminine awareness of him. Her body came to life whenever he looked at her like that. She almost screamed in frustration when he pulled away without kissing her.
“Don’t worry, darling. There will be hours of that tonight.” His words wrapped a smoky haze of hunger around her for dark, delicious things. Her womb clenched in anticipation, but not being kissed woke her up enough from the daze to scowl.
“How many times does a girl have to ask to be kissed?” she demanded huskily, hoping he’d give in and kiss the hell out of her. It was what she wanted, what she needed.
Wes’s wolfish grin created a little shiver inside her. “Patience, little tiger.”
“Tiger?” She laughed, almost giddy, and took a hasty gulp of the cognac.
“Don’t rush it.” He tsked and lifted the small box from the table.
“What’s that?” She reached for it, but he caught her wrist, holding it captive for a long second before he let it go with a kiss on her inner wrist.
“You are so impatient tonight.”
Her smile faded. How could she explain the urgency to be with him? She couldn’t confess her fear that tomorrow all of this wonderful passion would end. Her nose tingled as tears pricked her eyes.
His eyes narrowed and he cupped the nape of her neck. “What’s wrong? Your eyes darkened,” he noted.
She blinked away the sting of barely there tears. “What’s in the box?” she asked, trying to be patient. The last week with him had been so incredible and wonderful that she was afraid to leave, to go back. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was the center of someone’s universe and that someone was the center of hers, an unbroken circle rather than a one-way street. A feeling like that was hard to give up. Wes was hard to give up.
“I had these specially made.” He lifted the lid and revealed a trio of chocolates. “There’s a specialty chocolatier in Tulsa, Oklahoma, one of the best in the nation. They make unique flavors.” He used a small fork to cut one of the chocolates in half and then to scrape out the insides. “The best way to taste chocolate is to sample the filling, let it linger on your tongue.” He lifted the fork and she parted her lips, letting him feed her the delicious confection. It was rich, with a hint of orange, something that tasted like citrus, and warm milk chocolate. She moaned softly.
He cut into the next chocolate. “That is how you taste to me. Fresh like spring with a hint of citrus.” Scooting an inch closer, he held out his fork with the next chocolate’s filling ready for her mouth. “Try this next.”
She opened her mouth for the next bite. It was rich and dark, a hint of salt. “What’s in that one?”
“Sea salt and the purest dark chocolate you can find on earth.” One corner of his mouth tipped up in a devil-may-care grin.
Callie licked her lips. It tasted like him. A chocolate that tasted like her lover. Her lover. The word created a coiling of dark heat inside her.
When he cut into the third chocolate, her mouth was already watering. Wes’s focus was intense. “This is what they call an oatmeal cookie.” He fed her the last bit. Her eyes widened.
It actually tasted like an oatmeal cookie. “Now, drink your cognac, and when you’re done swallowing, close your mouth and breathe slowly out through your nose.”
She sipped the cognac, then shut her mouth and breathed out. New tastes exploded on her tongue. It was a thing of magic, the rush of maple syrup, brown sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, each taste clear and distinct.
“Close your eyes and tell me what you see,” he said. His hands were on her hips, their knees touching.
She did as he instructed. “I see…” She let the flavors speak to her. “A cabin at the base of a mountain. The leaves are red and gold. A warm fire in a stone fireplace, vermillion flames.” She sighed, sinking into the heavenly vision. He was there with her in this fantasy cabin, his body and hers merging again and again, fingers entwined, whispers of pleasure and little gasps of ecstasy. No distance, only togetherness.
His lips touched hers, a real kiss, not part of her fantasy. She opened her mouth, seeking his tongue. He growled against her lips and suddenly she was being lifted up, her legs curling around his hips as he carried her to the floor and placed her on the thick carpet.
“Sorry, can’t wait…” He gripped her shirt at the neck and ripped it clear down the middle. Buttons popped off, vanishing into the thick carpet as he bared her skin. She wore a sensible white cotton bra and he groaned, his hands shaking.
“Like a goddamn fantasy every time I see you.” He slid between her thighs and feathered kisses on the swells of her breasts. Then he bit on the top of her bra with his teeth, tugging it down to allow her breasts to spill free. He licked and sucked on one nipple until it was erect and she whimpered. Then he turned to her other breast. Callie gripped his head, tugging the strands of his hair, urging him on. The cognac created a delicious buzz and she wanted nothing more than to make love to Wes all night and clear through tomorrow.
“Please, Wes. I need you,” she begged. The ache between her thighs was sharp and demanding. Only he could erase the wild need in her to be taken, possessed. Fully and completely.
Wes sat back on his heels, tore his trousers open, and unzipped her jeans, tugging them down to her knees. After that, he removed her boots and socks. Then he laid her back on the carpet and covered her with his body, caging her in. He rolled his hips against hers, teasing her as he kissed her. Using one hand, he guided his shaft to her entrance. The sudden quick thrust up made her throw her head back and cry out. Wes nuzzled her neck and nipped the sensitive space between her neck and shoulder as he rode her.
Thrusting deep and hard, then slow and soft, he tortured her, teased her, until she was coming apart at the seams. She was dimly aware that she was begging him for more, harder. Her nails raked his back and her nipples rubbed his smooth chest, the sensation too much for her.
“Who do you belong to?” he demanded in a guttural growl against her ear.
She panted, unable to speak.
“Who?” He squeezed her bottom, lifting her up off the carpet a few inches to slap it. She yelped and groaned a moment later at the wave of wet heat inside her. Another slap to her ass, the slight bite making her frantic for more.
“Answer me.”
“You!” She gasped. “God, only you, Wes. Please, fuck me,” she pleaded.
That was all it took. He pounded into her, rolling his hips in different, unpredictable angles. When he bit down on her neck, gently but firmly, she blew apart. Blood roared in her ears and she struggled to remember who she was, where she was. Precious air filled her lungs and she sucked it in greedily, resting her head on the floor. The beautiful ceiling moldings spun above her as she welcomed the dizziness that accompanied the aftershocks of her pleasure. Wes’s body weight was welcome over hers, his hot skin feeling good against her own.