Justice Falling (Falling #3)(11)
With no concern for who was around or what we were doing in the middle of a busy restaurant, he licked my wrist. I couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. He looked up, eyelids at half-mast. Clearly he was as taken with me as I him. Slowly, without a care in the world he trailed his warm tongue along the sensitive skin from my wrist to the inside of my elbow where he paid extra attention, kissing me there in small baby-sized pecks of skin.
A daze. There was no other word to describe the floating, pleasurable place he put me in. And as quickly as the feeling of lust and deep desire entered my consciousness, it was gone the moment his lips left my skin.
“What’s wrong?” Confused, I sat up more fully.
“Nothing, Precious. I just don’t want to share your desire with anyone else. That look on your face.” He groaned and adjusted his pants. “I plan to be the only man to see you let go.” His long fingers twirled around, making a gesture at the busy restaurant. As I looked a few patrons’ eyes quickly shifted away. Apparently we’d given quite the show.
“Oh, my God, what am I doing?” My hands flew to my face as the realization hit me at how easily he put me into a sensually induced coma, right in the middle of a packed eatery.
***
Christ! Cami was so responsive. Not Cami…Camille. The name rolled off my tongue like a purr. When I put my lips and tongue to her skin, her entire body relaxed. The rigidity left her shoulders, her back arched as she flowed towards my touch. It was unexpected bliss, knowing the effect I had on the lovely brunette. Those cat-like eyes of hers shone bright green with the deepest flecks of yellow-gold when desire overtook her. I wanted to see that look in her eyes all the time; caress the need prickling in the air around her body and sate it.
Women never had a strong effect on my senses. Usually, I saw an attractive bird, went after her, and bedded her. Simple as that. Standard laws of attraction. Man sees pretty girl, man’s body reacts to pretty girl, man wants to shag pretty girl.
With Camille, I wanted more. Much more. A primal urge to own every piece of her was strong. So strong that my cock was at full mast just having tasted the satiny skin of her inner arm. That fruity smell, along with hints of baby lotion, was strongest at the sensitive crook of her elbow. A carnivorous hunger came over me when I reached that spot and took in her lovely fragrance. Every fiber of my being wanted to mark her. Sink my teeth and suck that delicate skin until a purple bruise bloomed in all its glory indicating my ownership. The need to have any man within a twenty-mile radius know this woman was unavailable grew stronger the more I stared at my precious Camille.
I pulled her pale hands away from her face. “Camille, relax. You’re with me. Don’t worry what others think. I could give a rat’s arse what any stranger thinks.” She peeked those cat-like eyes through her fingers before she released them in her lap. “Eat my dear. Food’s getting cold.”
Her eyebrows narrowed. “It’s already cold,” she said.
I laughed out loud. “Bollocks, we waited too long!” She bestowed one of those heart melting smiles on me. The woman was a knockout but paid no mind to it, swaying the odds of making her mine to tip positively in my favor. “So, how was it growing up in the foster system?”
The smile left her lips. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, and set down the bite of fruit she’d been nibbling on. Her face turned pensive, and her posture slumped. “That bad?”
“You really want to know?” The way she asked the question, her voice inflecting uncertainty, jangled my nerves. What had been done to her?
“I wouldn’t have asked, love, if I didn’t want to know.” She took a deep breath and sipped her water. Her lips pinched tight, and one hand locked into a fist, the knuckles turning bright white. I put my hand over hers to soothe it until she released the lock. I laced our fingers together and pressed our palms against one another. Electricity. The moment our palms touched, electricity zipped through every nerve ending.
“I’d been in the system as long as I could remember. There’s no information about where I came from, who my parents were, or what happened to them. Though, I’ve never been in the financial position to take much time or effort to look.” Something about the way she said ‘financial situation’ spoke to me. A receptionist working in New York City couldn’t make enough to live on, even with a roommate. It was a base position, entry level. I’m sure Hank paid her appropriately, but, in a city this large, she had to be struggling.
“Continue,” I urged. Her green eyes swirled with sadness as she sighed.
“Well, some of the places were okay, especially when I was little. I learned really quickly to do as I was told, when I was told to do it, and move as quietly as possible.” I didn’t like where she was going. “I had one home that was really good to me, but my foster mother lost her Dad and ended up having to move her mother in to take care of her. The room she got was mine, so I was sent away. I really miss them. I was nine. That was the best year of my life.” She looked out the window a beat, lost in her memories.
The best year of her life was when she was nine years old? She had to be in her early twenties which meant her best year was over a decade ago. Sadness for her pooled in my heart making me want to pull her into a tight hug, protect her from all the negative things that could harm her.
I took a deep breath to cage my declining mood. “What about your teen years?”