Fangs But No Fangs

CHAPTER 23

"Good golly," Jolee breathed, trying to regain control of her pleasure-weakened body. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

She would have smiled at his innocent tone if she'd had the strength. "How do you have me satisfied before I even have a chance to get you out of one piece of clothing?"

"I'm just good."

"Yes, you are," she agreed heartily. She straightened and started to reach for him, but he caught her fingers, holding them to his chest.

"Let's go to your room. I'll even let you take off a few pieces of my clothing." He started to pull her to the hallway. She followed gladly until she recalled the condoms. She did not want to forget those. She couldn't stop again. She had to make love with this man, fully. Her satisfied body started to tingle again with renewed desire. She was insatiable for him.

"Wait." She tugged free and returned to the pile of groceries. She bent down to open the first bag, finding the condoms right away.

"Here they… " She noticed something beneath the boxes. Black material with multicolored polka dots. She pulled out the sundress she'd been admiring. "What's this?"

He answered her obvious question with the obvious answer. "The dress you were looking at."

She picked up the bag, digging through the rest of the contents, disbelief building more and more as she discovered each article of clothing she'd looked at. She didn't know what to think.

"Christian, you shouldn't have done this."

"I wanted to." He shrugged as if the purchase wasn't any big deal.

Not a big deal to him, but definitely a big deal to her. He'd spent a ton of money. "But I can't accept them."

"You know, the fact that you are standing in your kitchen, naked from the waist down, arguing with me, should be rather entertaining, but I'm not amused. In fact, I'm a little annoyed, because I'd much rather be making love to you at this moment. You can take the clothes, and you will."

Her frown deepened even more at his officious tone— and at the fact that she was actually a little aroused by his bossiness.

"This is too much." She gestured to the bag. "I don't want you to spend this kind of money on me."

He stared at her for a moment, then he sighed. "I know you don't. But I wanted to. I want to take care of you. I want to give you things that will make you happy. I knew you'd argue, because you want to prove you don't need help. But this wasn't help. It's a gift."

A gift. Guilt curled in her belly. He wanted to do something nice, and she hadn't even said thank you. And all because every gift in her life had come with strings. But she knew he'd done this only for the reasons he'd said, and no other. She looked back down at the bag.

"Thank you," she said almost sheepishly. "I love them." And she loved him. Her breath caught. Oh my God, she loved him. It was just a fact— a true, unchangeable fact.

"It was too much, though," she murmured. Just like the feelings overwhelming her. Everything about this man was too much. Too perfect. Too wonderful. And she didn't want it to ever end. And that was too scary.

Then he gave her one of his cute little smiles and she knew it was also too late to worry. She loved him.

He shook his head, forbearance clear in his eyes. "The clothes are not nearly enough for what you've given me."

"What have I given you?"

He looked down for a moment, then he took a deep breath. Finally he met her eyes again, and simply said, "Peace."

She didn't quite know what that meant, but her heart skipped at the admission. She knew it was somehow a difficult one, and a very important one. Poor Christian. What had Lilah done to him?

"Now come here," he ordered sternly and crooked his finger.

She set down the bag and walked into his arms. She really did love it when he was a little domineering. Especially when she knew she was really going to like what he was ordering her to do.

She kissed him gently. "I love the clothes. They are beautiful."

"You will make them more beautiful," he murmured against her hair. Then the hand on her back slid down to cup a cheek of her bottom. "Although it will be hard to beat this look."

She laughed. "You're finding this amusing, aren't you?"

"No, I'm finding it immensely arousing."

She could feel that, as his erection prodded her belly. She made a small noise in the back of her throat. "Me, too."

She shifted out of his arms, and this time she led him down the hallway. Once they reached her room, she stopped at the foot of the bed. She tossed the box of condoms on the mattress, then she reached for him, tugging the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Her fingers moved the small buttons, working one after the other free, revealing a tempting trail of golden skin, right down the center of his chest and stomach.

She slipped her hands under the opened material, molding her hands to his torso, her fingers shaping to each swell and each groove of his lean muscles.

"You" — she leaned into kiss the alluring curve of his collarbone— "have an amazing chest."

Slowly her hands traced over him. "It's like you were carved out of marble. Ageless and perfect."

His body tensed; his already hard muscles seemed to actually turn into the stone she had described. She lifted her head to see his expression, to see what suddenly made him freeze, but he just watched her with unfathomable pale eyes.

She didn't want that expression. She wanted those incredible eyes filled with passion. She wanted him to feel what she did when he touched her. Gliding her hands upward, she found his nipples, circling them. They pebbled under her touch, smaller imitations of her own already puckered nipples.

She teased him with sweeps of her thumb until she felt him moving just slightly under her touch, pressing against her fingers.

His arms came around her to pull her against him, but she wiggled away.

"Uh-uh," she warned, giving him a disapproving look. "No touching me until you are totally nude. I know your tricks. If I let you touch me now, you'll have me on the bed panting before you even lose the unbuttoned shirt."

Christian grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't think there'd be a real problem with that."

"Well, there isn't," she admitted, but when he reached for her again, she added, "Except I want to look at, and touch, you."

Well, only a fool would argue with her about that. He quickly slipped his shirt off, and reached for his pants. Just as swiftly he had those off, too.

He stood in front of her, painfully aroused as her gaze wandered down his body.

"I didn't know there were men like you," she stated. "And I can't believe you are mine."

Her words both thrilled him and displeased him. He was pleased that she considered him hers, but even if he could, he wouldn't tell her that there weren't many men like him. That in fact he wasn't even a man. Would she want him anymore if she did know? Not his Jolee who came from a rough background, who likely just wanted to be with a nice, normal guy.

Jolee walked closer to him, her eyes again scanning the length of his body. They stopped at his rigid length. His cock twitched under her scrutiny. She smiled slightly, her eyes meeting his just briefly before she touched her fingers to him, her hand curling around him.

He made a growling noise deep in his throat. His eyes closed as she stroked him. Her fingers explored his length, the head, the shaft, and his testicles below.

"I want to feel you inside me," she murmured as she pressed her mouth to his chest, her tongue darting over his skin, her hand still holding him, fondling him.

"I want all of you." She stroked upward to emphasize all.

He growled again, this time the sound loud and feral.

He picked her up, placing her in the center of the bed. He followed her down, pinning her under his weight. She spread her legs, positioning him in the cradle of her thighs. The springy curls at the apex of her legs teased his erection, spurring him on, inviting him to enter the slick heat just beyond.

"I can't wait this time," he told her. "I can't wait any longer to feel you."

She shook her head, gasping slightly as his cock skimmed between her damp lips, rubbing her engorged clitoris. "I—oh— I can't wait either."

He rolled away from her to find the box of condoms, which had fallen to the floor when both of them had dropped onto the bed. He ripped the flaps, and pulled out a link of several condoms. Tearing one off, he dropped the others on the makeshift nightstand.

When he turned back to Jolee, he found her watching him with eagerness glittering in her dark eyes. He also noted that she was still half-dressed. He wanted nothing between them. He didn't even want the condom, but he wouldn't argue that, for her sake. The shirt and bra, however, had to go.

Dropping the condom on the pillow next to him, he reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. Then he looped his arms around her, finding the clasp of the white bra. She kissed his shoulder and his arm as he worked the hook and eye free. Not an easy task with Jolee's amazing lips moving over his skin.

Finally he flung the scrap away and gazed at her. Creamy skin, with pouty, rose-colored nipples beckoning him.

"Amazing," he murmured, brushing a thumb across one of her lovely breasts. His hand left her only to pat around for the foil packet, but his eyes remained fastened on her, awed by the perfection of her. With more force than necessary, he tore the plastic square open.

His gaze left her as he frowned at the sheer circle surrounded by a ring. How the hell did he tie this on? French letters tied on, didn't they?

"Can I?" she asked.

He gladly handed her the item. He'd never seen a condom, much less used one. At the time when he'd had cause to use one, he hadn't had the sense.

"Lie back," she said, nudging him against the mattress. She turned to face him, looking like a kneeling fairy. Her dark red hair brushed the swell of her breasts. Her legs were folded under her, knees tight together, hiding the dark auburn curls that matched her hair.

He started as she slipped a hand under his cock. Then with her other hand, she placed the rolled condom on the sensitive head. He watched with intent interest as she pinched the top of the latex, and then in short, repetitive, and very arousing strokes, she unrolled the snug sheath until it encased him.

For a brief moment, he wondered at how many other condoms she'd put on other men, but he disregarded the thought. He'd be the last. She'd never make love with another man except him. He didn't know how he could make that happen, and he didn't have time to think about it, because she leaned down and placed a kiss on his hipbone. He couldn't remain passive any longer. Between the squeeze of the condom and her nibbling kisses, he couldn't hold back. He caught her under the arms and dragged her up on top of him, relishing the velvety smoothness of her skin moving over his.

She laughed at his sudden action. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of joy and desire. A very, very sexy combination.

He kissed her, the touch of their lips seeming to ignite them both. She moaned, opening her lips to him, her tongue caressing his, her fingers sinking into his hair. He tangled his fingers in her silky hair and deepened the kiss even more.

She moaned again, nipping his lip greedily. Hungrily, he rolled her under him. Again she opened for him, this time cradling him between her legs. An eager invitation for him to enter her.

"Baby, I can't wait," he muttered roughly.

"No," she agreed, her voice husky with need.

He rose up on his arms to position himself, the head of his cock opening her. Slowly, he eased into her body, her tight wet vagina stretching to accept him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes closed, her lips parted. "Oh God, yes."

He leaned down and nipped her full bottom lip. He pushed—another inch, another contraction of moist heat all around him, then a bit more of himself, then more taut, stroking heat.

"Damn," he muttered, "you feel so good. So tight, so hot." Nothing had ever felt this good.

She groaned, arching against him, taking him deeper into her. She rose again, and he was buried in her heat to the hilt.

The muscles in his arms strained as he tried to remain composed. He wanted this to go slow, he wanted to absorb every detail. Her arousal cocooning them in cinnamon and slick desire. The tiny pulses that stroked his rigid length. The way he was so deep he couldn't feel anything but her. The way she gasped as he shifted, moving ever so slightly inside her. The peace that mingled with his desire, giving him more joy than he ever believed possible.

He leaned forward and kissed her, trying to keep the action unhurried, tasting the warmth of her soft lips, the sweet tang of her tongue. Jolee moaned and caught his head in her hands, intensifying the kiss. She squirmed under him, her hips rising up as much as they could to stroke him. Her long, gorgeous legs curled around his hips, holding him against her like her vagina held his cock.

He groaned, and all control was lost. He had to move. To feel the stroke of Jolee's responsive body and remember. Remember what it was like to be a man. What it was like to love. And what it was like to be loved in return.

He thrust deeper, his movements a little frenzied, a little desperate, but his lack of control didn't seem to distress her. She continued to cling to him with her entire body. Her heels anchored to his back. Her fingers clutched his shoulders. She lifted to meet him, accepting him with just as much wildness.

"Christian," she cried, her voice as frantic as he felt. "Oh my God!" She writhed under him, her head twisting back and forth on the pillow, red hair clinging to the pillow, to her flushed face.

"Is it good?" He impaled her completely.

"Yes! Yes!" She bucked against him, her release right there. Right on the verge.

He braced himself on one arm and slid a hand between them to her mound. She was spread wide to accommodate him, her clitoris nearly bared for his touch. He brushed his thumb over the swollen bud.

She rose up again with a ragged cry. Christian gritted his teeth, focusing on the upsurge of her arousal in the air around him. Another deep thrust, another rub of his thumb, and another rush of arousal crackled the air.

Jolee screamed, driving him deep inside her, and she came. Her release poured down over them like a sudden cloudburst. Christian shouted, too, his own orgasm joining hers, flooding them both with rapture. Nothing had been so perfect. So close to heaven. The only heaven he'd know.

"I didn't know it could be like that," Jolee said, lazily running her fingers over Christian's chest.

"Nor did I." He pulled her tighter against him, and she had the impression that he was as overwhelmed as she. Their several intimate moments before tonight had been wonderful and intensely satisfying— the best Jolee had ever experienced—but they didn't even begin to compare with having this man inside her. As soon as he'd entered her, she felt like she was one with him. She knew what he wanted, and he knew what she needed. It was…

"Perfect." He sighed.

Yes, that was the only word. She lifted her head, resting it on her hand. "I've never-experienced anything like that."

He rolled over to face her, mimicking her pose. "How much experience do you have?"

The question startled her, and immediately old wariness uncurled in her chest. Then she saw the jealousy clouding his eyes. And a little insecurity, too. She relaxed and reached out to caress his cheek.

"Not much. I've been with three men. Two I was with for a while. One was a stupid mistake, before I decided that I didn't want to be like my sister."

"Were you with Mark?"

She shook her head. "No. That could also be why he's so bitter. Given my sister's reputation, I'm sure he thought I was a sure thing, too."

Christian gazed at her as she traced her fingers over the sharp cut of his jawline, dipping a finger into the small dimple in his chin.

"Did any of the men treat you the way you deserve?" he asked.

She met his eyes, amazed to see concern warring with jealousy. Her heart ballooned. That was one reason she was falling so hard for this man— even when he was hurting, he was more worried about her. She kissed him. He tilted his head readily to deepen the kiss.

"None of them treated me like you do," she said when she pulled away. "Like I'm something special."

"You are something special. The most extraordinary woman I've ever met."

"Even more extraordinary than you thought Lilah was?" She closed her eyes just briefly, angry with herself for asking him. For reminding him of her.

But he didn't hesitate. "Yes." He reached out to brush her hair from her cheek, the touch tender. "You are generous, sweet, smart, funny. And very sexy."

She grinned saucily.

This time, he leaned in to steal a kiss. But despite his incredible description of her, Jolee felt she had to ask, "What was Lilah like— I mean, when you met her?"

He fingered a lock of her hair. Finally he said, "She was beautiful. A beauty that was beyond compare."

Jolee's heart sank. What had she expected? She knew that this woman must have been stunning to capture Christian's heart the way she had.

"She had long, pale blond hair and equally pale blue eyes."

"Like yours?"

He frowned as if he'd never even noticed his eye color. "Yes. I guess."

"Was she tall or short?"

"Very petite."

Of course. She shifted her own too long and too thin legs under the Strawberry Shortcake comforter.

"And quite voluptuous."

She tried not to glance down at her own small breasts, which were thankfully hidden under the covers, too.

"She knew she was lovely, and she used that to her advantage. She controlled men with a bat of her eyelashes. I didn't allow myself to see that, believing she was devoted to me in the same way I was devoted to her."

Jolee frowned, disliking this woman more and more. Beautiful and manipulative and cruel.

"Did she just like to prove she could have other men? Or did she really… have them?"

Christian smiled, the gesture not the cute curl of his lips that she was used to, but more of a sneer. "Oh, she had them."

Disgust filled her. How could Lilah have wanted other men when she had Christian devoted to her, as he said? Jolee just couldn't fathom it.

"She even had my own brother."

Jolee immediately stopped pondering this woman's stupidity and gaped at him. "Your brother?"

He seemed to realize he'd said more than he intended, his gaze leaving her to study the bows and strawberries on her comforter.

"Christian?" She tilted her head, trying to get him to look at her. "Is that why you don't see your family?"

He shook his head. He fingered the edge of the comforter, playing with a loose thread. "It was, but not now. I realize now that all Rhys was trying to do was prove to me the kind of woman Lilah really was."

"Rhys? Is that your brother's name?"

"Yes. I have two brothers. Rhys and Sebastian. My only family." He still didn't meet her gaze, but she didn't need to see his face to hear the pain in his voice. He loved his brothers. Missed them. She understood that pain, although her family had never been close.

"Are they older than you?"

"Rhys is older and Sebastian is younger."

"Where are they now?"

"They are both in New York City."

"Do they know you are no longer with Lilah?"

"Yes."

"Then can't you just forgive each other?"

He laughed at that, a cold bitter sound that only mocked real laughter. "No. I don't think they could ever forgive me."

"Why not?" His brothers surely missed Christian as much as he obviously missed them.

He shook his head again, then caught her and pulled her tight against his muscled body. "I don't want to talk about this. I just want to hold you." He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips aggressive and devouring, and instantly arousing. Her body tingled everywhere.

Christian's hand slid down her body to slip between her thighs. Very quickly Lilah and his brothers didn't matter. All she could think about was this beautiful, wonderful man making love to her.