Chapter 70

Amaya closed her eyes before responding, "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Yes. A little dizzy, but erm, I think I’ll have a drink. Would you like champagne? I feel like some, don’t you? This is a good one. Wow, I’ve been to the vineyard. It was amazing, so picturesque." She fumbled with the foil around the top of the bottle, sudden nerves and shyness assailing her.

Chase came over, took the bottle from her, and placed it back in the ice bucket. He put his hands on her waist, his expression as tender as she had ever seen it. "You’re nervous. Why is that?" He said it as a statement, not as a question. Amaya pulled at one side of her lower lip with her teeth, her cheeks feeling as if someone had lit a fire under them.

"It was probably a fluke down at the beach. I might not be able to do it again."

He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger, holding her gaze with his. "No one’s keeping time here, wife; we can do whatever we want. Hmmm, what do you want us to do anyway?" He teased her. "You can take all the time you need. We don’t have to even do this tonight if you don’t feel up to it. It’s been a long day."

"Don’t you want to?" she asked as her eyes widened at the same time.

Wait, did I just ask him? Oh God, I'm going to hell. I'm not supposed to be this naive, yet I asked him if he... I'm going crazy. She pondered for herself.

Chase smiled as his thumb brushed back and forth over her cheek like a metronome. "Of course I do, but not if you don’t feel in the mood."

I’ve been in the mood for you since I left that night. Since we made love that night a few years ago. Since Greece. I've been freaking ready, and I've been being stupid now. She thought.

Amaya lowered her gaze to his mouth. "I don’t have any nice lingerie…"

He smiled. "Do you really think I’d even notice? What I want to see is you. All of you."

She shivered at the smouldering look in his eyes. The look that said, ‘I want you’. The look that spoke to her female flesh like the sun does to an orchid Ripening it, opening it Making it bloom, swell, and release its scent. She placed her arms around his neck, moving closer so her body touched him from hips to chest.

"Make love to me, please?"

Okay, you are going crazy, Amaya. She pondered again. Begging, my ass. She thought to herself. Trying hard to self-talk herself into going nuts, but the look in Chase’s eyes made her forget her revenge, or whatever she used to call it before; there were things more important than that.

His mouth came down to cover hers in a kiss that spoke of deep, primal male longings only just held in check. Chase’s lips moved against hers in a soft exploration, his tongue parting her lips with a gentle glide that made her skin prickle in delight. He courted her tongue, driving her senses wild with escalating need. She whimpered her desire into the warm, minty cavern of his mouth, her hips pushing against his with the need for more stimulation. His hands went from her waist to settle on her hips, holding her against his pulsing length.

The eroticism of it thrilled her, awakening every nerve in her body and every sense to high alertness. Chase deepened the kiss with a bolder thrust of his tongue, a movement that made Amaya’s inner core respond with a burst of feminine moisture—that instinctive, involuntary response that signalled her readiness, her eagerness, and her desperation.

One of his hands peeled away her dress as though he were removing cling film. It pooled at her feet, and she blindly stepped out of it, her mouth still clamped to his. Her hands moved to undo the buttons on his shirt, her fingers struggling with the task in her excitement. With every button she undid, she placed her mouth on his skin, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him with that hint of lime and leather and late-in-the-day man. He unclipped her bra and gently cradled her breasts in both his hands, his mouth moving from hers to glide down with blistering heat to her décolletage and over the upper curves of her breasts.

The graze of his stubble made her insides clench with need, and the glide of his tongue over her flesh evoked a murmur of approval from her lips. Chase’s mouth opened over her nipple, drawing on it with light suction, the nerve endings responding with a frenzied dance of excitement she could feel right down to her core. He kissed the outside of each breast, then the undersides, and then her cleavage, his bristly face on the soft slopes of her flesh sending shivers of reaction all through her body. Had anyone ever paid this much attention to her breasts in the past? Had anyone touched them with such gentleness? Cradled them and worshipped them? Treated them with such respect?

Chase’s mouth came back to hers, subjecting it to another pulse-tripping exploration, his tongue mating with hers in a dance that made her ache for him unbearable. She moaned her'rescue me’ plea into his mouth, her hands fervent, desperate on his body. She set to work on his creamy short, sliding her hands over his flat abdomen, her palms and fingertips tickled by the prickle of his masculine hair.

He took over for her, shrugged off his shirt, removed his clean-cut shorts, and stepped out of them.

She knew by then that she was lost.

so lost…

Amaya couldn’t help feeling touched; he had left her knickers on until he was completely naked first. It showed a sensitivity she hadn’t experienced with other partners. Only when he was fully naked did his hands go to her hips, gently sliding her knickers down her thighs so she could step out of them. His gaze moved over her body, the desire in them ramping up her own. She pressed herself against him, her senses thrilling at the hard jut of his erection against her belly. Chase moved her backwards towards the bed, laying her down and coming down alongside her, one of his hands on her abdomen, deliciously close to the throb of her need. "Are you sure about this? I don’t want to rush you," he said.

Bullocks! She thought she wanted him so bad.

Rush me! Rush me! Amaya was beyond words; all that was coming out of her mouth were breathless gasps and moans when his hand moved lower. She sucked in a breath when he brought his mouth to her belly button, swirling his tongue into its shallow pool until her back was arching off the mattress. He moved his mouth down to the heart of her, preparing her by kissing her folds, stroking his tongue over her labia before separating her gently with his fingers and anointing her with his tongue in tantalising strokes and flickers that triggered an explosion of sensations that shook her like a rag doll.

She bucked, arched, whimpered, and cried as her flesh burst into a song that reverberated throughout her body until it finally subsided, leaving her in a languid, limbless state. Amaya reached for Chase, stroking her fingers along his length, silently urging him to enter her body. After a moment, he eased back from her touch. "What do you want to do about condoms? Are you on the pill?"

"I take a low-dose one to regulate my cycle."

"Maybe we should use protection for the time being."

It touched her that he’d given her a choice, not just gone ahead without consulting her on protection. He reached for a condom in a drawer beside the bed and sheathed himself. He came back to her, angling his body over hers so she didn’t have to take his full weight. That was another thing that struck Amaya about Chase. How many times had partners climbed aboard, so to speak, with little or no consideration for her comfort? He smoothed her hair back from her face, his eyes dark and eager, but with that element of concern that spoke of a man who didn’t take consent for granted at any stage of the encounter.

"It’s not too late to stop if you’d rather not do this."

Amaya fisted her hands in the thick pelt of his hair. "If you stop now, I’ll never forgive you. I want you. Want, want, want you."

His slanted smile made something in her stomach swoop. His mouth came down and covered hers in a drugging kiss that escalated her desire to another level that had her panting, writhing, and wriggling to get the friction she craved. Finally, Chase came to her entrance, gliding into her with a smooth, thick thrust that made her gasp in relief and excitement. Her body welcomed him, squeezing him as if it never wanted him to leave. He moved his body within hers, deeper and deeper, gradually increasing his pace while making sure she was with him all the way. Amaya was more than happy with him. She was a part of him. Consumed by the sensations ricocheting through her from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes.

Each thrust created friction against her, but not quite enough. It was like being suspended on a precipice, dangling there with the abyss beckoning. She whimpered and arched her hips, trying to position herself so she could fly. Chase slipped a hand between their bodies and caressed her intimately, stroking his clever fingers over the swollen heart of her femininity until she broke free and flew and flew and flew. Fireworks, flashes, fizzes, and floods coursed through her flesh.

Her mind was emptied of everything. It was as if, in those frantic moments, she’d become only flesh and feelings. Feelings swept through her, flinging her out the other side just in time to sense Chase's final plunge. He tensed above her, his breathing ragged and his guttural groan when he spilled, making the surface of her skin tinkle and tingle with goose bumps. She held him during the short but savage storm, gripping his taut buttocks and holding him to her until he finally sagged as the waves of pleasure faded away. Amaya couldn’t remember a time when she felt so close to another person.

The skin-on-skin contact wasn’t new, nor was having sex. The tangled limbs, the sweat-beaded bodies, and the crinkled bed linen were not foreign to her either. But the sense that her body had spoken to him and responded to him as it had responded to no one else made her realise this wasn’t just sex. What they had done was make love.