Page 22 of Desirable
"I wasn't sure if you were ever going to join the world of the living again," he teases.
I don't know what urges me forward but I close the distance between us, what little was left, with a kiss. Parker's other arm comes around me, pulling me in.
When he deepens the kiss, I shift closer to him, unwilling to break the spell that is over us. Each kiss, each stroke of his tongue, is like a hit of something I know I'll never have again.
His hands skate along the sides of my breasts, his thumbs grazing my nipples. My body feels hot, like if I don't have him right now, if I don't feel him sliding into me, I might combust. But the truth is, the more of him I have, the worse it's going to be. My fleeting thought of being able to maintain a relationship doesn’t look possible in the harsh light of day.
Parker seems to be on the same trajectory because he rolls me, moving easily so his body is poised over mine. He holds his position over me, our bodies touching everywhere but the spot I need him to ease the friction in me.
"It's just us now, Holly. Is this what you want?"
Last night may have gotten started with Jean Pierre, but he was just the catalyst for something bigger, something so much more than I could have imagined.
"It was always just you, Parker." I slide my hand between us so I can press it over his heart.
I can't make myself tell him that I want more, so instead, I kiss him. Parker takes this as what it's meant to be, consent for this moment, and he eases inside me. I meet his every punishing stroke until I see stars. My nails make a mess of his back as I dig them in when he manages to coax an orgasm from my weary body. He explodes and I clench around him until he pulls back and lies beside me. It’s not the lazy lovemaking one would look forward to first thing in the morning, but it’s the frenetic need that brought us through the night before.
I'm panting and my throat is raw when Parker scoops me up into his arms. It’s almost like it’s effortless for him, while I struggle to regain my cool. I slide my arms around his neck, stroking him as he carries me into the bathroom.
"A girl could get used to all this luxury," I tease when he sets me down on the shower bench. I lean against it, drawing my knees up. I feel oddly vulnerable, even though he struts around the room just as naked as I.
"She could. Is that your application to be my fake date all the time? It would mean lots of hotels like this."
I feel like I've been doused in cold water and the shower isn't even on yet. I didn't need the reminder that we're not real, that I'm being paid to be here. Suddenly, thirty hours in a shower doesn't seem like enough to wash off this feeling. Telling him I want to keep this going is not an option.
Parker watches me as he tests the temperature of the water. He opens his mouth, but I don’t want him to say anything.
“Last night was something else.” I hug my knees tighter, curling up as much as I can. It’s foolish to think I can hide anything from this man, but I need to feel some protection.
He seems content to let me change the subject. “I promise the next pearl necklace I give you will be a real one.”
“And if I didn’t hate the one you gave me last night?”
Parker’s gaze turns molten as he looks down at me on the bench. “Who says you can’t have both?”
He prowls toward me and unfolds my body so I'm spread out before him. Gently, he presses me so I'm lying back on the bench with my pussy bared to him. He lowers his mouth to my clit.
I cry out from the contact, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he presses his tongue harder against me. He won't relent until I come apart for him. I buck my hips, truly fucking his face, chasing the high that he drives with each swipe of his tongue.
My soul splinters and shatters, leaving pieces of me with him forever.
I have nothing to grip but his hair as I ride the aftershocks, but he doesn't seem to mind. He kisses his way up my body, pausing over my breasts. I think that might be the last of it. Surely any more and I might die from an orgasm overdose.
Then Parker is driving inside me again, and I'm crying from the feel of rightness as he pins me to the wall, fucking me like we saw those people do at the gala all those months ago.
"Oh, Parker!" I cry. There is so much sensation. I feel like a raw nerve, and I'm not sure I can orgasm again, so I roll my hips in sync with him. But when he slides a hand between us to press against my clit, I bite down on his shoulder to keep the scream at bay.
"No, I want you to break a fucking mirror with that scream. Let them know who you belong to. Let them know that it's my cock filling you up, stretching you, and it's my cock that you've come on again and again. You're mine, Holly Carlisle. Now let the world know."
I obey, screaming through my release as he groans through his. Our lips crash and it's rough and hard, but the taste of me on his lips only heightens the pleasure.
Parker sits on the bench, leaving me straddling him with soft kisses along my jaw. I'm a noodle. I have no bones as I sit in his arms. He holds me to him, being the strength I don’t have at this moment. My heart is looking for things that aren’t there, but the way he drags his fingers down my spine feels less like ‘fucking you is all I want’ and more like ‘holding you is the highlight of my day.’ Each muscle starts to give into him until he’s the only thing keeping me upright.
Parker guides me to my feet and under the water. My eyes fall closed as the water sluices down my body. We stay silent as we bathe. Like in all things, Parker takes control, washing my body.
He's so gentle with me when I wince as he guides the soap between my legs and along my breasts. And when his cock comes to life under my ministrations, I sink to my knees and take him. I feel like a cat lapping up his attention as he washes my hair, his fingers digging into my scalp, not stopping his care of me even when I’m taking him into my mouth.
After I drink him down, he joins me on the floor of the shower. He tugs my hair back, exposing the long column of my neck so the soap can be rinsed as he kisses my throat.