Chapter 31
Justin dispensed with the buttons on her sweater and pushed the fabric from her shoulders, trailing kisses along her collarbone, making her mindless and fueling the desire that was surging through her blood.
“Allena,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin, “tell me what you want.”
His words were inflammatory and sexy, giving her confidence. “Everything,” she whispered, finding his mouth again in a hot, searing kiss. “All of you.”
He groaned, half pleasure, half pain, and led her towards the bed, halting when the backs of her knees met the mattress. He took off his glasses, placed them on the bedside table, and then looked at her, watching as she breathed and as her full breasts rounded over the cups of her bra.
“Not legs,” he said sexily, trailing his thumb between her breasts, reminding her of a conversation they’d previously had. Her nipples hardened instantly, peaking against the smooth satin fabric, and he moaned again, clearly aroused. “I want you so much, Allena. I can’t even begin to say the words.”
“I think you’re saying they're just fine,” she said, smiling warmly. “With your kiss and your eyes, and..." her words trailed off as her hands moved to the belt securing his jeans, lingering there for a moment before she met his burning gaze, “everything else.”
He kissed her again and then stepped back, ditching the T-shirt and quickly flipping off his loafers. Allena stood silently and eased down the zipper and the back of her skirt, letting the fabric pool at her feet. Standing there in front of him, in only her underwear, she had never felt more provocative or as desired in her entire life. She looked at him, absorbing the hard angles of his body, thinking about how many times she’d seen him without a shirt over the years and how this time she was allowed to look, allowed to feel, and allowed to touch. She was allowed to love him, even if it wasn’t real and wouldn’t last beyond a few hours. And for the moment, that was enough.
In all his life, Justin knew he would never forget how Allena looked standing in front of him. The stretchy fabric of her panties dipped over her hips, highlighting every lush curve and filling him with the kind of aching desire he hadn’t expected to feel. A desire that had everything to do with the fact it was Allena and not just anyone. She meant something to him. She was special.
Her skin was smooth and supple, pale in places where it didn’t see the sun. He watched as her hands moved around to her back and she unclipped the bra and then slipped off her panties. He swallowed hard, mesmerised by her, thinking how she reminded him of some ancient goddess from an old painting, all curves and femininity.
She stepped towards him and touched his ribcage, then teased her fingertips along his pectorals and settled lower at this belt for a moment. She stilled, seeming a bit uncertain.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She looked up. “A little out of practice.”
“Me too,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll do just fine.”
She smiled again, warmer and deeper, and then, with a dexterity that startled him, she unbuckled the belt with agonising slowness, undoing the zipper on his jeans.
“You’re killing me,” he said hoarsely.
She looked up, meeting his gaze; her smile was inviting. “But what a way to go.” Justin ditched his jeans and briefs within seconds and led her to the bed. He kissed her, gently fisting a handful of her glorious hair so he could deepen the kiss, taking her tongue into his own mouth and experiencing a wave of arousal surge across his skin that was so intense for a second that he thought he might pass out. But Allena steadied him, holding his shoulders, pressing closer, and throwing back her head so he could kiss her throat, her neck, and the soft skin along her shoulders. He caressed her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, gently rubbing the nipples with his thumbs, and feeling them stiffen beneath his touch. She moaned as Justin laid her back against the pillow, her beautiful hair fanned out around her. He kissed her again, deeper and longer, and then he touched her as he ached to do for so long.
Foreplay had never felt so good, he thought, in a kind of mindless state of pleasure. For the following hour, they kissed, touched, and became acquainted with each other. There was nothing shy about Allena’s touch, nothing coy about the words she whispered against his mouth and neck and chest, and then lower still. She knew where to kiss, and how. She knew where to touch, when to hold, and when to release. On some level, it was as though they had been lovers in another life. When he caressed her intimately, she moved against him, and he watched, fascinated as her skin flushed with pleasure as she came apart in his arms, saying his name over and over.
He grabbed a condom from the unopened packet in the bedside drawer, sheathed himself, and moved over her, cradling her face within his hands and taking his weight on his forearms. Justin watched her for a moment, still breathing hard from her climax. Seeing such pleasure in her face, it tightened his chest to the point he wasn’t sure he could breathe.
“Allena,” he said her name in a sigh and moved between her thighs. “You feel so good.”
Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she pulled him closer. “You, too,” she said, her eyes darkening. “You’re pretty good at this.”
He chuckled, loving that she could find humour alongside passion and desire. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
She smiled, pulled his head to her lips, and kissed him, laughing delightedly against his mouth and whispering words that were meant for lovers. They kissed, they moved, they found a rhythm that was sinfully pleasurable, and when release came to them both, it was sharp and sweet and wonderous and left Justin knowing one undeniable fact—that he had somehow, despite every intention to the contrary—spectacularly fallen head over heels in love with Allena.
Allena had been staring at the ceiling for close to half an hour, thinking about how she could drag herself out of Justin’s bed without waking him and sneak out of the house without being seen by the kids, his grandmother, and probably anyone else who resided in the place.
But since her arm was trapped beneath his and if she moved, he would stir, she remained where she was, naked and still thoroughly exhausted from the almost three-hour lovemaking session they’d shared. He slept on his stomach, which was endearingly cute, and she had to stop herself from running her fingers through his hair, tracing kisses along his back and hips, or stroking the tattoo of his children’s names on his shoulder.
And really, she had pretty much touched and kissed him everywhere. It’s not like there was somewhere new for her hands and lips to roam. The sex had been amazing. She’d never experienced anything like it before. There was reverence in his touch. Gentleness goes along with passion. And making love with him had only deepened the love in her heart.
Only now, of course, had the regret he’d known she would have settled firmly in, and she had one thought going through her head—escape. She could see moonlight through a gap in the curtains and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Two thirty. Right, if she snuck out now, she ran the risk of waking up the entire household, and the last thing the kids needed was to witness her racing from their father’s bedroom like a thief in the night.
He moaned and moved unexpectedly, grasping her hand and rolling her over, pinning her beneath him. “You’re awake,” she said, and she grabbed his shoulders.
“I am,” he said, and teased the underside of her breast with one large hand. “You feel so lovely,” he said, taking the straining nipple into his mouth and laving the aching bud with his tongue.
“So, yeah,” she said and arched her back as pleasure shot down her spine, holding his head between her hands as he caressed her breasts with his mouth. “You’re definitely not a leg man.”
“Told you so,” he muttered against her flesh, trailing kisses upward between her breasts and up her throat until he found her lips. “But you can’t blame me,” he muttered, kissing her hotly. “Your body is amazing and should be worshipped.”
When he pulled back, she was breathless and panting. She met his gaze, losing herself in the greenness of his eyes. “Justin…”
“No,” he said, gently placing a finger on her lips. “No regrets, Allena. Not when this feels so right.”
It did feel right. That was the problem. “You know we need to talk about it.”