Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(29)

Of course, she’d spent nearly half an hour in her own shower—shaving and cleansing and moisturizing—before heading to Jesse’s, but she saw no reason to bring that up. Tilting her head back, Desiree let the water wash over her short crop of red hair, lifting her hands to her head to lather in the shampoo, desperately aware of how her breasts lifted at the movement, her nipples puckering and begging for his attention.

She closed her eyes, but could still feel his hot gaze over her as his breathing grew harsh. Please, God, don’t let him send her away. Don’t let him reject her again.

“Desiree, stop.” So low they were almost a growl, the words slammed into her, making her heart stutter and her body jerk.

She opened her eyes, stared into his, shocked at the anger and desire moving in them. She wanted to say something sophisticated, something sexy, but when she spoke, only the truth came out. “I can’t.”

She reached for him, but he grabbed her shoulders, kept her at arm’s length. “We can’t do this.”

“Why can’t we?” Her eyes wandered down to the proof of his desire. “I know you want me, and it’s more than obvious that I want you. So what’s the problem?” She clutched one of his hands in her own and pressed it to her breast.

Jesse groaned, his thumb sweeping over her hardened nipple of its own volition. For long moments he caressed her. He closed his eyes, a look of agony on his face as he moved to pull his hand away.

She grabbed it, held his fingers in place as she arched toward him. “Don’t leave me like this, Jesse. Please, don’t leave me.”

Shuddering, he pulled her into the shelter of his body. He pressed his face into her neck as he fought for control. “I’m years too old for you, Desiree. I knew you when you were still a child.”

Smiling, she reached down and let her fingers lightly travel the length of him. “I haven’t been a child since the day I first saw you.” She continued to stroke him, watched as his eyes grew hazy, listened as his breath hitched first once and then again. “And I’m certainly not a child now.”

“I work for your father.” The words were wrenched from him as he thrust helplessly against her hand.

“He’s not here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body fully against him. “This isn’t about him.” Leaning forward, she licked a drop of water from his chest—following the trail from his nipple to his throat to a spot right under his left ear.

“Desiree.” Her name was ripped from him as he exploded, lifting her against the cool tile wall. His mouth captured hers, his tongue thrusting inside as he tasted every part of her. She moaned, her lips parting to give him better access as he devoured her.

His teeth closed over her lower lip, nipping at its fullness as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pinching slightly, laughing as she gasped and arched against him.

She’d expected her first time to be slow and gentle, full of whispers and soft caresses. She’d dreamed of giving herself to Jesse, dreamed of sweetness and tenderness. What she got was none of that, yet somehow so much more.

His mouth raced frantically across her cheek, over her neck, down her breast until he reached her nipple. Pulling the hard nub into his mouth, he sucked, his tongue circling the areole. She gasped, moaned, pushed herself against his mouth as tension wound tighter and tighter within her.

He moved between her thighs, spreading her legs wide as his mouth continued to pull on her breast, his thumb slipping between them to find her hottest point.

Heat. Joy. Pleasure so intense she nearly convulsed swept through Desiree before she was ready, before she could prepare herself. She screamed, wrapping her legs around Jesse’s waist, opening herself to him as he slid home.

Pain exploded inside of her and she tensed. She heard Jesse curse, felt his instinctive withdrawal. But the pain was fading quickly, a hot urgency taking its place so that she began moving frantically against him.

He groaned, low and deep, thrusting against her as his mouth moved once again to her own. She could tell he wanted to slow down, wanted to be gentle, but she was desperate for completion. Her body was spiraling up, up, beyond her control, and she wanted, needed to take him with her this first time.

She reached between them, rubbed her fingers over his peaked nipples, reveling in the groan he couldn’t hold back.

“Stop!” he gasped. “It’s too soon. You’re not ready.”

But she was ready, so ready that it was all she could do to keep from going off like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. And then his hand was between her legs, rubbing her and she couldn’t hold back, didn’t know how to hold back.

She screamed as her body convulsed, long and high and keening as Jesse slammed into her again and again. Suddenly he stiffened and pleasure like she’d never imagined swept through her, into her, holding her in its grasp for one long, timeless moment.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that—a tangle of arms and legs and bodies pressing against the shower wall. But the water had run cold before the tremors shaking her subsided and he finally moved. She protested when he pulled away and let her legs slide down his slippery body until her feet hit the floor.

“Jesse—”

“Shh,” he interrupted as he began to wash her quickly, skimming the washcloth intimately over her body before rinsing her off.