23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Rose

I'm on a high. Energy is coursing through me, swirling and eddying. I feel like shouting or singing or dancing or maybe all three at once. Jubilant, that's the word.

"My life's been difficult," I say, although this isn't news to him. "I fought hard to survive with my self-esteem intact. Not only living in a cult, but living in a fishbowl. And the lawsuit. That was hell, although most of it was done privately with no cameras present. I settled for less than my attorneys said it was worth. I just wanted to get on with my life, buy this amazing cottage, and begin my new life."

Sipping my cocoa, I allow the liquor to ease my nerves.

"Then I was on my own, getting used to the solitude and living with my own thoughts. That was another hurdle."

"And finding a hundred-year-old man in your house. That was probably a piece of cake." He kisses my cheek, then settles back, giving me space.

Collecting my thoughts, I try to figure out what I want to say.

"I'm attracted to you, Rip. I didn't need you to protect me from my father, and I don't need you to protect me from you. Can you trust me to know my own mind?"

I peer at him and see his surprise at my question. His head tips back as my meaning hits him. Then a smile lights his face as though he knows what I'm going to say next.

He listens with an indulgent smile as I say, "I may have only known you a few days, but I'm falling for you. I trust you. And I want you. It's not the liquor talking when I say I'd like to go into the bedroom and see how we can get that huge monster I glimpsed earlier to fit inside me."

Hot embarrassment flares on my cheeks, but my gaze doesn't waver from his.

Slowly, he stands. Then holds out his hand. I slip mine into his and let him pull me up, feeling his warmth and strength as I stand proudly in front of him. His hands lightly caress my face, sending shivers down my spine. After pulling me close for a soft kiss, he leads me by the hand toward the bedroom.

Every step I follow him closer to the bedroom is an opportunity to turn back. But I don't. The draw of Rip, of release, of safety and heaven in his embrace, propels me forward until we're standing at the bedroom door.

"I trust you to know your mind. Do you trust me with the most precious thing on the planet? You?" He places soft, smacking kisses against my neck, then pulls me close and wraps his arms around me from behind.

I turn in his embrace and cup his cheeks in my hands.

"Yes," I whisper before our lips meet in a searing kiss that sends sparks shooting through me.

He steps back and takes my hand, leading me into the bedroom. The moonlight through the blinds paints him with streaks of blue and silver. He's perhaps even more beautiful this way.

His eyes are bright with desire and his lush lips are slightly parted. We do nothing except gaze at each other until my need swells to the point I can't resist grabbing him around the neck and standing on my tiptoes to press my lips to his.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close as our kiss deepens. Slipping his hands under my shirt, he caresses my skin until I'm pressing myself against him, my head spinning from the intensity.

The kiss continues until it's so heady I break away, gasping for air.

After taking a step back, his gaze fixes on my body. His glance slowly roams from my toes to the top of my head. He doesn't miss an inch and his appreciation is clear. I can feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach, a result of his heated look.

His fingers drift along my sensitive skin as he skims my t-shirt up and over my head, revealing my white, lacey bra.

Letting out a low huff of admiration, he traces circles with his thumbs around each nipple until I arch into his touch.

Bending, he tenderly nips each hardened nub, unerringly finding them despite their being hidden by my bra. Leaning back, he admires the way the moisture exposes the dusky color beneath the fabric.

Finally, he unhooks it and lets it fall. I stand there, trying to ignore the passionate heat radiating from him. I want him more than I've ever wanted anything in the world—except my freedom, and I've already secured that.

His hands wander lower, skimming over my bare stomach and stopping on the waistband of my shorts. In a swift motion, he slides them down until I'm standing in nothing but a pair of white panties, feeling completely exposed.

My heart races as he looks me up and down one more time, as though he can't believe what he's seeing.

I want him, but I'm still nervous and scared. Though he didn't ask, I take a deep breath and muster the courage to whisper, "Yes, Rip. I'm sure."

He lifts me onto the bed, lays me down, and slowly undresses as I watch in silent anticipation. His every move is hypnotic, amplified by the soft light and exotic shadows of the night.

My desire is pooling, eddying, swirling, but always rising. I thought last night was the pinnacle of arousal, but I've already surpassed it and we have so much farther to go.

My nipples are still damp, pricked to hard points from his little nips and the gentle breeze of the cool air.

I saw him strip earlier today, but I had the easel and my painting to keep a lid on our heated desires. There doesn't need to be anything stopping us now, and I allow my passion to burn as hot as it can get.

When he's finally naked, he towers above me and my breath catches. I reach out to touch his chest, tracing every curve and contour. His muscles ripple under my fingers and I can feel the raw desire radiating from his body.

Nudity wasn't allowed in my house. I never saw my father or brothers naked. When I escaped my family, I investigated sex on the internet, but never looked at pictures of genitalia. I wasn't comfortable with that.

I don't need to have seen a hundred other penises before to know the one I'm looking at is… beautiful.

It's rigid and thick and veined. The head has a dot of liquid. The most shocking thought flies through my mind—I want to lick it. For the swiftest moment, that seems wrong, then I embrace it. Before the night is out, I'm going to know what my lover tastes like. Just as he knows my taste.

My hand reaches toward it, but I stop to glance at Rip, to make sure I'm not overstepping.

"Whatever you want to do to my body, Rose, go ahead." His indulgent look is soon replaced with passion when my hand darts to grip him at the root.

Passion bursts inside me with just the touch of this hard, masculine flesh. I graze up and down the prodigious length of him, unable to stifle my coo of appreciation.

Funny that the word I want to use to describe this stiff male appendage is soft, but it's so unexpected that such a rigid shaft would be velvet to the touch.

Swiping my thumb over the little hole at the end, I gather the slick fluid and bring it to my mouth so swiftly it's as if I'm afraid he's going to snatch my prize from me.

It's salty, but not harsh. My clit flutters in appreciation as I take this tiny particle of him inside me in the first of many intrusions that will occur tonight. I feel nothing but pure acceptance and affection for him.

He kneels beside me on the mattress, grips my hands in his, then slides between my legs. His lips find mine in a passionate kiss that blazes through me like wildfire, burning away any remaining doubts.

He moves slowly, relishing the sensation of our bodies pressed together. His hands cup my face, his thumb teasing my lower lip as he whispers sweet words of love and devotion in my ear.

"Rose." His palms slide from my shoulders, over my collar bones to cup my breasts. "How can you be so soft, yet so strong?"

I impressed him tonight. He knew how hard that was for me and admires me for it. It just increases my affection.

The taste of him, the feel of his skin against mine, the masculine scent of his body. Everything about Rip ignites a passionate frenzy within me. I want him more than I ever thought possible, and it seems I'm finally ready to cross the final step into my own power.

The tables somehow turn. Perhaps it's the battle I just won with my father and brothers, but I don't want to continue like we have been, with Rip treating me as though I'm glass.

My passion is hard and hot and that's how I want to be taken. I don't know the words to express that. Perhaps the only path I can take from here is to show him what I want.

I use my lower body strength to indicate I want to be on top. His eyes flare in surprise, but he rolls with me.

The moment I get my next idea, I blurt it out.

"Can I wear the amulet?" Suddenly, I'm desperate to see through those otherworldly eyes.

Rip doesn't hesitate. As soon as I ask, he removes the leather thong over his head and places the necklace on me. The moment it touches the skin between my breasts, my vision changes.

Rip is more beautiful than I've ever seen him. The room is aswirl with color like Van Gogh's Starry Night. The sensual thrum coursing along every vein and synapse doubles, then doubles again.

I want. I need.It's desperate.

Perhaps I said that last word out loud, or maybe he read my mind, because Rip nods.

I slide my body along his, loving the feel of my nipples grazing his lightly furred chest.

"Rip!" My lids fly open.

Then my pelvis awakens, followed by my fluttering channel that needs his beautiful cock more than I need air to breathe.

I straddle him and slide along his shaft.

"Heaven."

I'm dripping wet with wanting him, so it's a slick slide as our flesh mingles. The head of his cock bumps my little clit on every stroke, taking me higher with every hard drive.

"See if you can come like that." His voice is a low husk, dripping with expectation.

Maybe I needed his sweet urging, because those words unleash something inside me. I grind against him, gasping at how intense this feels.

I change my angle, moving my hips and legs and pelvis until something seems ready to burst inside me.

Perhaps it's the amulet that makes dazzling fireworks go off in my vision, or maybe it's the sheer animal force of what we're sharing. Whatever it is, it's spectacular.

His hands are on my hips, helping me, guiding me as my stamina flags. One more intense quiver in my channel, signaling my orgasm is sparking inside me, and I get a second wind.

"Fuck!" I shout as I grind against him, gathering my pleasure until my release hits with the power of gale-force winds.

"Rip!"

This is so potent, even more delicious than what he gave me with his mouth yesterday, because I own this. I caused this. I made this happen.

Moving with animal grace, I lower my chest, gathering pleasure from my hard nipples grazing him, my clit pressing against him with just the right amount of pressure.

I've never felt so powerful in my life.

And then that thought flies out of my head as my gaze connects with Rip. I'm coming and coming and connecting with Rip, and the colors are swirling and my body is flying in pleasure.

I'm spasming in bliss and I'm in Rip's arms and this is without a doubt the best moment of my life.

One more exquisite round of pleasure, and I circle back to the normal plane of existence.

No. I take that back. Nothing will ever be normal after today. After this moment.

I'm still quivering, shocked at what I just did, how far out of my comfort zone I wandered, and how much I love myself.

I love myself. I've never been able to say that before. Never been able to feel it. Never been able to acknowledge it.

And with this knowledge, it seems the easiest thing to admit one more amazing thing out loud.

"I love you, Rip!" I shout as I sit up, our pelvises still pressed together, his electric blue gaze glued to me as a smile plays at the corners of his mouth.