Home > The White Chapel (The Chapel Series #2)(7)

The White Chapel (The Chapel Series #2)(7)
Author: Marilyn Cruise

He nods.

“And kiss me for real?” The atmosphere has changed around us now—it’s dangerously electric. I should confess now, but the words just won’t come out.

He nods and takes my hands in his.

“And…?” I ask.

“And make love to you again. I hope you know those times were always real for me,” he says.

His eyes are blazing and suddenly I notice how my body feels as if it has caught fire.

Shivers dance across my skin, and I need some air, but the supply in the room has vanished. I turn slightly away from him so I’ll be able to maintain my composure, to get some distance from the charge that buzzes between us like a frenzied electrical storm.

Then it dawns on me, like a revelation from heaven. Michael actually really cares about me. Me! The real me! Tears spring to my eyes, and I let out a whimper.

He steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, burrowing his chin into my shoulder. His warm, firm chest presses against my back, and in an instant, my worries vanish.

“I know it’s sudden. If it’s too soon—” he says, his breath burning in my neck.

I turn around and hitch my arms around his back as my face rests against his chest. “It is sudden. But…I like where this is going.”

Michael picks me up and swings me around. “One day without you is like a day from hell. When you left, I realized how much I need you in my life. Scarlett, you have completely hypnotized me like no other woman has. I want what we have to last forever.”

I let out an uninhibited laugh. I’ve hypnotized him? It’s too soon, my mind reminds me. You haven’t known this man for more than a few weeks. It will never last. I push the thoughts aside. I feel too good in this moment to care.

“I want to be with you, fucking your sweet pussy every day for the rest of my life, and when I’m not doing that, I want to be the man who earns your love by the way I treat you,” he says.

How can I manage to keep a straight head when he says things like that? I melt in his arms and press my lips to his. His tongue quickly finds mine, and I pull on his back as he reaches his hand around to the nape of my neck, deepening the kiss.

I can hardly contain the sheer elation I’m feeling inside. He wants to be with me! The real me—for real!

I notice as we’re kissing, we’ve started to move toward the stairwell. Walking up it, our lips never parting, he tears my jacket off and throws it onto the floor. Slowly, we climb the stairs, the charge between us becoming more intense by the second. Walking backward, I kick my boots off and tug at his sweater.

Halfway up the split stairs, he presses me against the wall, lifts me up, and grabs my behind, the swell of his erection massaging my clitoris. A low sigh comes from my throat as I feel the desire in me build. Slow and steady, he rocks me into the cold wall behind me, as his lips devour mine, as his hands tighten their grip around my ass. His scent inundates my nose with every breath, and his hair feels like silk between my fingers as I knit them between his tresses.

He carries me up the stairs, and then stops right in front of my bathroom. I’m shaking uncontrollably from the cold and from the anticipation, but I don’t care one bit right now. All I want, all I need is him. Inside me. Now. He’s like a drug I need to survive, to sustain my life.

“Ever since I saw you here in nothing but a towel, I’ve been thinking about how I wanted to get you naked and fuck you in the shower.” His voice is slurred, intoxicated, thick.

Oh, my. I think I just came undone in my panties. “Have you now?” I kiss him, but it’s hard to because I can’t stop smiling.

He pushes me gently into the bathroom, and pulls my sweater over my head. I help him get out of his sweater and shirt, and as I run my fingers across his chest, I feel his warm, prickly skin beneath my fingertips.

Never taking his eyes off me, he walks over to the shower and turns it on hot. Returning to me, he unbuttons my white shirt, tears it off, and unhitches my bra with one deft move. I take the straps and slowly slide them off my shoulders before letting the white, lacy thing drop to the floor. His eyes take me in for a moment and in the next instance he has his lips on my breast, tugging and sucking again and again.

My body is buzzing with desire. I moan and let my head fall back as an electrical current runs from my breast to my clitoris, igniting it on fire.

“Oh, Scarlett,” he says. “Don’t ever leave me again, you hear?”

I’m breathless already, feeling my body prepare for the pleasure that is coming. When he releases my nipple, I slide my pants and socks off, and then I’m standing in nothing but my thong.

His eyes scan me all the way down and then up, taking their own sweet time, the hunger in them making me even more heated by the second. I take a step closer to him and undo his belt and pants, the clang of the metallic buckle, and our labored breaths filling the air. I ease his pants and briefs off, running my fingers down his rigid thighs. I grab his erection and pull on it gently.

He moans. “Stop, or I’ll come right now,” he says, pulling my hand away.

Still in my thong, he pushes me into the steamy shower, the scalding water burning my skin. Thank goodness it’s still hot. They must just have turned the electricity off. It hurts for a moment, but then I relax into it as my body adjusts to the heat.

He joins me, and water runs into his hair and drips into his face. I can’t help but stare at the sexy god in front of me, perfect skin glistening silky and wet, lips red, eyes scorching, claiming me with a wild, possessive stare.

He places his hands on my hips, kissing a path down toward my belly button and I feel that heavy, aching, familiar desire pool in the deepest part of my abdomen. Oh, it’s already too much. I want him inside me—there. He keeps heading south, nipping all-too soft kisses on my sensitive skin, so I’m strung so high I can hardly contain myself.

I shudder delightfully at the thought of his lips and his tongue pleasuring me until everything becomes so tight that I explode into it.

Pressing me up against the cold tile wall, he pulls my thong off and throws them onto the shower floor. When his hot tongue spreads my folds, I moan and gasp loudly. “Oh Michael!” Damn his wicked, wicked tongue. How did he get so good at this? I’m in awe of how completely euphoric it feels, how it makes me want to cry and shout for joy at the same time.

He starts sucking, and I feel the buildup come like a bolt of lightning from heaven. I tug at his wet hair, trying to find stability when my legs want nothing but to buckle underneath me.

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