In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(47)

“Exquisite,” James said, tracing a fingertip along the page. “I don’t know where to hang it. I should burn it, so no one else can ever see it, but I just couldn’t do that. It’s too perfect.”

His hand shot to my leg where I stood to his back and side. I jumped, startled.

“You’re too perfect. I need to travel with this one personally. Do you have a folder I could carry it in?”

I reached into the chest. His hand remained on my thigh, gripping it firmly even when I took a step forward. I pulled out a navy folder. I had them everywhere. They were handy for storing watercolors.

“Here. But if you take that painting, it’s only fair that I get to paint a nude of you.”

“As you wish, Buttercup,” he told me, turning to plant a hard kiss on my stomach before hiding the nude in the folder.

“Go shower. I’m going to arrange for these paintings to be transported and framed.” He held up the folder. “Except for this one. This one I carry.” He strode out of the room.

Unaccountably, I was a little bit shaky, but I headed to the shower without another word.

I was in the shower for a good ten minutes before James slipped in behind me. I had already washed, but he soaped me up again without asking, touching me everywhere. His rock-hard erection pressed against my back. I rubbed against it, and he pushed my hips away gently.

“Not until I check to see how raw you are,” he said roughly. But he continued to touch me, rubbing my br**sts gently for long minutes. My head fell back, and my mind went feverish.

“These must be sore, too, but I can’t seem to keep my hands off. My self-control is apparently shot where you’re concerned. I’ve never had this problem before.” His voice was a rasp in my ear, as though he were telling me a dirty secret. It got me unbelievably hot. He shut the water off.

He toweled me off, quickly drying himself and wrapping the towel around his hips.

“Get on your back on the bed,” he ordered me.

I moved to the bed, and felt his large presence behind me with every step. I sprawled on my back on the bed, my wet hair fanned out above my head.

He pulled my legs apart as he dragged my hips to the very edge of the bed. He was more masterful than rough as he handled me. He knelt between my legs, using a light touch to study me. I should have been embarrassed, but I was beyond it.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” I told him. And I didn’t, not right then, though I had been extremely sore at work the day before.

“Quiet,” he told me, his voice harsh. “My control is hanging on by a thread, but you’re just too chafed. I rode you too hard that first night, and that morning. Fuck, I can’t believe I did all of that to a virgin. I feel like a bastard, looking at all of that injured pink flesh.” His fingers were still gently touching my petals as he examined my sex. “But I still want to f**k you so badly I can’t see straight.”

I wriggled against his fingers. “Just f**k me, then. Please.”

He slapped the side of my butt, hard.

“Don’t.” He looked at me with troubled, beautiful eyes. “I’m going to need to be more careful with you. I didn’t realize you could take so much without protesting, so I just kept going. Fuck. I shouldn’t have taken you after that first time, but I’ll remember that night for as long as I live. It was so perfect.”

His words were bringing me to a fevered pitch. I stroked my br**sts as he ranted. He gave me a hard look. Hard, but hot.

“Well, we’ll have to do something about this.” A wandering finger found my backside. I stiffened instinctively. He chuckled, withdrawing. “Not that.”

Without another word, he buried his face between my legs with a purpose. He had me gasping out his name with an orgasm in less than a minute. He crawled up my body to kiss me wetly. I ran my hands everywhere I could touch.

“I love your body. I never get to touch you enough. I want to,” I murmured into his mouth as he pulled back.

He fell back into a sprawl almost instantly, accommodating my whim. He folded his tan muscular arms behind his head, smiling. He was definitely all tender lover this morning, only glimpses of the dominant in him showing.

“Have at it, Love.”

I didn’t hesitate, using both of my hands to stroke his chiseled abs. Those starkly ridged abs made Brad Pitt in his prime look sub-par.

I kissed his abs as my hands moved higher, licking. He sucked in a breath. I moved up to his chest. His small ni**les drove me wild, a shade of brown darker than his perfect skin. I stroked and licked up to his neck. Everything about him was just so long. His arms, his legs, his torso.

My gaze traveled south, to his quivering arousal. It was long too, and so hard and thick. I wanted to taste it the most, but knew my exploration would be over if I so much as touched it.

I went back to his neck, moving down to the defined line between his pecks. I nuzzled there, lingering.

I loved this spot, felt almost comforted when I buried my face there. I let myself linger there for long minutes. Reluctantly, I moved away.

I sucked at a nipple, biting down lightly. When he didn’t protest, I bit harder, then sucked hard.

He moaned. My hands kneaded at his arms as I went back and forth between his ni**les. He was so hard, but his skin was unbelievably smooth. I was getting so turned on that I kissed a path directly to his cock. I’d lost the control to stay away.