The Look of Love (The Sullivans #1)(56)

After coming hard enough to blow the top of his head off, he should have been sated, at least for a few minutes, but all it took was one stroke of her tongue against his chest for the blood to start rushing to his groin again.

Chase cupped her hips, loving the feel of her soft flesh against his palms as he pulled her up against one of his thighs, slipping it between hers. Her gasp of pleasure as he pressed into her mound was a hot whoosh of breath over his chest.

She was still in charge of their night and he knew he needed to let her lead, but he needed to touch her, needed to give her even a fraction of the pleasure she’d just given him.

She moved her mouth to the other side of his chest as she rocked against his thigh. He could feel how hot she was, could feel the damp proof of her arousal as she rode his leg.

Chase had thought he was prepared for this night, that he was up for giving himself over to Chloe, that he could handle anything she dished out.

What an idiot he was.

Nearly two decades of as much sex as he wanted with models and actresses hadn’t so much as been the first chapter of the rule book for making love to a woman he was actually in love with.

Moment by moment, he was learning that love made everything different.

Bigger.

Better.

So much sweeter.

“Chase?”

He looked down to find the woman who was tying him up in such incredibly pleasurable knots looking up at him with determination.

With hope.

“I know what I want next.”

Thank God he’d just come or he would have erupted simply from the heated anticipation in her voice. “Anything,” he vowed to her. “Everything,” he promised.

“I want—” She stopped speaking as if she’d suddenly run out of air and her eyes darkened with uncertainty.

“Tell me, Chloe. Tell me what you want. Let me give it to you. Give it to yourself.” Her eyes widened at those last words and he knew he’d hit home with them.

“I want to give myself up to you.” She took a shaky breath. “I want you to—” He could see that she was scared again, his brave, lovely girl who’d just taken him into her mouth without so much as a pause. “I want you to tie me up.”

He forgot how to breathe, actually couldn’t remember how to draw breath into his lungs for a split second.

Tonight was about so much more than sex. He knew that. Had known it from the start.

He hadn’t really known how much more, though, hadn’t thought she’d want to knock down every last barrier she’d had to erect around her body—and heart—tonight.

He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to do it, that she was already the bravest person he’d ever known, but before he could, she lifted her chin as if she could hear the words he hadn’t yet said.

“It’s my night. You’re mine. For anything. For everything.” The determination was back. “This is what I want.” She slipped her hands through his. “This is what I need.”

“I love you.” He dipped his mouth down to kiss her once. Twice. A third time. “Should we go see how strong those bedposts are?”

Her eyes flashed dark with arousal…and with the fear she was so hellbent on breaking past.

No matter what, Chase knew he was going to show her how good giving control to someone you loved—and who loved you right back—could be.

“Yes.” She tightened her hold on his hands. “Please.”

Chapter Eighteen

Chloe stopped dead at the threshold of the bedroom they’d been sharing and Chase turned to her, his eyes taking in her expression, the tight hold she had on his hands.

“Chloe?”

Knowing she needed to be strong—wanting to be strong not just for him, but for herself, too—she said, “I trust you,” even as her heart whispered, “I love you.”

She felt his large, warm hands cupping her face, stroking across her cheeks. “My lovely girl.” His mouth dipped down to hers, sipping at her lips like she was the finest wine. “So sweet.” He licked across her lower lip and she was shivering with the pleasure of it as he said, “So brave.”

She didn’t feel brave. She felt like an actress trying to assume a role she had no prayer of nailing.

But she wasn’t on the set of some movie. This wasn’t a TV show she could watch from a safe distance. This was her life.

A life she needed to reclaim, every single piece of it.

“Show me how good it can be, Chase. Show me how good it should be.”

He lifted her in his arms, then, so swiftly the breath whooshed from her lungs even as her feet lifted off the floor. She loved being in his arms, loved knowing that she was always safe with Chase.

He carried her into the large room and over to the bed. He didn’t let her down right away, not when he was obviously intent on kissing away all of her fears first.

When he finally pulled back to lay her down, she whimpered at the loss of his heat, the hard press of his muscles against her as he stared at her, his eyes moving slowly from her face to the swell of her br**sts, almost painfully erect beneath the thin silk of her dress. The skirt had lifted way up around her thighs and that was what he finally reached out to touch, stroking his palm up one leg, from her ankle to the sensitive skin of her thighs.

She moaned her pleasure, lifting her limbs to get closer to him, to offer him more of her body, to offer him every part of her.