She opened her mouth to voice her request, but something else came out of her mouth.
“What do you mean exactly, you’ll make me pay for wanting me so much?”
He looked up slowly. Perspiration glazed his handsome face, chest, and bulging, muscular arms. She was reminded of his physical strength and endurance during lovemaking . . . the power he exerted over himself in restraint. His expression seemed to close off as she watched him. He hitched his hips and withdrew from her. A cry caught in her throat at the ensuing sting in her flesh . . . at the sudden deprivation of him.
“That,” he said, sounding a little regretful. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. She inhaled shakily, craning up to brush her lips against his. He straightened his arms and looked down at her solemnly, perhaps reading the question in her eyes. “I’m being very hard on you.”
“I can take it,” she whispered.
“Maybe so,” he said, rolling over on his side. He unfastened the restraint of her right hand and reached across her to do the same for the left. “I’m not sure I can, though.”
What does that mean?
She opened her mouth to ask the urgent question, but she realized her hands were unbound. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer. Besides, she was free now to touch him. Instead of clarifying his enigmatic statement, she reached for him, delving her fingers into his thick hair. His gaze darted to hers. Was he about to emotionally withdraw like he had on the yacht?
Was he thinking of that other woman, the one she reminded him of?
“Come here, Jacob,” she dared softly, urging him with her hands.
Her heart charged in the silent pause that followed. At first, he remained unmoving beneath her pressing fingertips. His hesitation cut at her.
Finally, he came. Did he seem resigned? If so, even his resignation came with a flash of his singular fire.
He fused his mouth to hers, and his taste eclipsed her concern. She urged further, coaxing him by caressing and pushing on his muscular, smooth back, and then on his round, dense buttocks. God help me. He felt so good. She couldn’t get enough. Their kiss deepened. Pleasure suffused her when he pressed his entire weight against hers and she sunk into the mattress, a pleasure that was different but no less potent than the bliss he brought her while she’d lay there helpless, and he made love to her like a firestorm.
She lost herself for minutes, indulging in the dark, sweet addiction of his kiss. Why did she feel like he lost himself, too, and that perhaps this was a novel experience for him, as well . . . as much of a mysterious awakening for him as it was for her?
Abruptly, he parted from her and rose off the bed.
She’d been wrong in her idyllic fantasizing. He hadn’t been feeling what she had at all. She grew bereft watching him walk away. The evolving intimacy had been too much for him. She shouldn’t have pushed him. Maybe it was for the best.
It’d felt overwhelming for her, as well. She’d told him she thought she could handle a purely physical affair, and already, she was crossing the boundary.
He returned, pausing next to the bed. She watched him roll a fresh condom onto his re-stiffened cock, her heart jumping into overdrive.
She wasn’t sure what to make of his serious expression as he climbed back onto the bed and moved between her suspended legs. He unclasped the clips that were attached to her thigh cuffs. Her legs dropped down to the soft duvet. He fell over her. He caught her mouth with his as the head of his cock nudged at her entry.
She cried out into his mouth as he slowly, but firmly, entered her again.
They came together differently that time, more tenderly, but with every bit of the former intensity and fire. He let her touch him while they made love. And she did: everywhere, each touch, each stroke, bringing her higher into thrilling, dangerous realms.
Afterward, neither of them spoke. Jacob held her fast. Harper lay with her cheek against his chest, wondering if it was only her that sensed
the words that surrounded them like too-soft whispers, or shouts that were too far in the distance to fully hear.
fifteen
Jacob awoke in the dead of night at the sound of a woman crying out in distress.
“It’s all right, you’re okay, Harper.”
The room was almost pitch-black. He knew from experience with insomnia that his suite only grew this dark just before dawn. Swiftly, he lunged and hit a button on the bed’s built-in console. A lamp illuminated. He twisted around to look at the woman in his bed.
“Harper,” he said forcefully.
There’d never been any doubt in his mind whose shout it was. A lot of women had slept in his bed, yet he’d recognized her frightened voice in an instant. There was a hint of the girl she’d once been in that cry.
She lay on her back, her chin twisted in his direction. Her vibrant hair was spread out on the pillow. The expression of tight fear on her face made something sharp twist deep inside him. He slid closer to her, planting his elbow next to her ear. He curled his arm around her head, stroking her hair back from her temple, while he caressed her neck with his other hand. She was damp from sweat, a result of her nightmare. She moved her lips silently, fear still tightening her face.