Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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perhaps he wasn’t.
Perhaps he was simply trying to humiliate her. Perhaps the best thing she could do—for herself, for both of them—was to turn and go back to her bedroom.
Heart in her throat, she turned away and took two steps. And then, because she was frustrated and angry and hurt and confused, she turned back. Stood there staring at him while he stared back, no one saying anything, no one moving.
So many emotions and thoughts crashing through her—and one very big one that said, Why are you doing this? Life is too short to play games. You know what life can do to you when you don’t take it seriously.
As soon as she thought the words, she understood something very fundamental about Raj. It was as if someone had pulled back a curtain and shown her an illuminated tablet upon which this particular truth was carved: he was accustomed to denying himself.
The little boy who’d never written that note to the Barbie-pink girl, who’d never gotten to go to her party or ask her to be his girlfriend, was standing here now, unwilling to take a chance. Because tomorrow might change everything. Because tomorrow he might move away again, and the party would happen without him. The girl would find another boyfriend. Nothing stayed the same in Raj’s world, and he’d learned it was better not to get attached to anything just in case.
Her blood sang as if she’d just been shown a priceless secret. She understood what motivated him. She understood and she knew what she had to do.
Veronica untied the belt at her waist and let the robe slide down her shoulders to pool at her feet. She was only wearing the black lace thong she’d worn beneath the strapless gown, and nothing else. Her breasts pebbled as she stood there for what seemed an eternity, waiting for Raj to react.
“Veronica,” he said. Choked, really.
“I know what I want,” she said. “But I don’t think you do. You think you have to deny yourself. But you don’t, Raj. It’s okay to want things. It’s okay to want me. I don’t expect anything out of you.”
“You do,” he said, his voice still strained. “You want the kind of life I can’t give you.”
She swallowed. “I don’t think either one of us is ready for more at this point in our lives.”
Though part of her ached for more, she didn’t deserve it. She had to be real with herself. Because he would despise her if he knew what sort of person she really was. And she couldn’t bear it if he did.
She closed the distance between them. They didn’t touch. The heat emanating from his body touched her instead—enclosed her, enveloped her. He was on fire. It made her wonder how much she would sizzle when he actually made contact.
Then she slid her palms up his arms while his eyes glowed hot, over his biceps and hard pectoral muscles. His nipples were small, tight, and she tweaked them with her thumbs while he growled deep in his chest.
And then she told him what she wanted right now. The words she used were graphically, shockingly raw.
She surprised herself. Surprised him if the way his eyes widened were any indication.
But then he was dropping to his knees in front of her, pressing his face to her bare belly, kissing a trail down her abdomen. Hooking his fingers into the material of her thong, he slipped it down her legs until she could step out of it.
Then he lifted one of her legs and put it over his shoulder while she gasped.
“Raj, not here!”
“Yes, here.”
She gripped his shoulders to keep herself upright, but his mouth on her body, on her most sensitive spot, soon had her panting and gasping and thrusting her hips to increase the pressure. When she came a split second later, her knees buckled. Only his strong grip kept her standing.
And then he was on his feet, backing her against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him, their tongues tangling urgently as he shifted her against him until her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hard shaft was at her entrance.
Veronica cried out as he plunged into her body. But it wasn’t pain that caused her to do so. Somehow he knew, because he didn’t hesitate to thrust again and again, harder, until she dragged her mouth from his and tilted her head back to moan her pleasure.
Oh, this was exactly what she wanted—what she needed. Raj, here like this. Raj, inside her, part of her. Raj, Raj, Raj …
“God, Veronica,” he said, and she knew she’d been speaking aloud. She’d been telling him what she wanted, saying his name …
His mouth found her throat, his lips and tongue and teeth sending a shiver of delight racing down her spine, over her nerve endings, into her molten core. She was close, so close.
Raj made a sound of frustration. “Need more,” he said, the words hot against her skin. “Need more of you.”
And then he strode across the room, their bodies still joined, taking her somewhere, though she didn’t know where until they were falling together and her back hit something soft.
He rose above her, his dark face so handsome and sexy as he worked to hold on to his control. She could see the restraint in his eyes, could see how he held a part of himself back, how he was still worried about hurting her in spite of his need.
“Give me all of you,” she said. “I want all of you, Raj.”
“Veronica—”Her name was a groan—so raw, so torn.
“I don’t want you to hold back. If this is all we have, I don’t want to miss anything.”
They both knew it wasn’t about the physical. That part was perfect. Amazing, hot and wonderful. His gaze was wild, his body throbbing inside hers, and yet she still wondered if she’d carried it too far, if he would withdraw and leave her lying here alone.
He was capable of it, she was certain, no matter the cost to his pleasure.
But then he groaned, his head dropping until his forehead touched hers, and she knew he’d surrendered. He kissed her, their mouths fusing so sweetly, so perfectly. He was still so hard inside her, but he didn’t move. He simply kissed her, skimming the fingers of one hand over her face, as if he were learning her shape and texture by touch alone.
A tear leaked from her eye, slid down her temple. He kissed it away, kissed the tender skin of her cheek, the bones of her face. Love swelled inside her heart until she thought it would burst. She wanted to let it out, wanted to tell him how she felt, and yet it terrified her.
She was in love with him, and she couldn’t tell him. So bittersweet, so shattering.
Veronica thrust her hands into his hair, curled them into his skin, slid them over his body. She wanted to know every part of him, the golden skin and eyes, the hard, sensual lips, the straight, regal nose. The hardness buried deep inside her.
“Oh, Raj,” she gasped as he flexed his hips and sensation bolted through her, from her fingertips to her scalp, her toes to her nipples. Every part of her was alive and on fire for him.
“I love the way you say my name when I’m inside you,” he growled. “So sexy, so needy.”
“I am needy,” she said, arching her back, trying to get him to move again. “I want more.”
He withdrew from her, surged forward again. “More of this?”
“God, yes.”
This time he obliged her, thrusting into her again and again, her body soaring as he drove her toward completion. There was nothing left between them. No barriers, no secrets, no lies—nothing but raw, hungry emotion. Their bodies rose and fell together, giving and taking, taking and giving.
She wanted to feel like this forever, and yet it had to end. Finally, she could hold back no longer. The pounding pressure started a ripple of sensation deep inside that