Brothers of Paradise Series

He climbs on to the bed next to me, and somewhere in the deep kisses and smooth hands, my bra comes off. He tosses it aside and returns to my arms, hitching my knee to his hip.

Parker holds his body against mine like space is the enemy. I don’t complain, not when his skin is warm and dry and taut, his chest and lower stomach smattered with light brown hair. The hand he smoothes over my outer thigh has callouses from pulling ropes at sea.

He rests his head against my neck. I’m on my back, eyes closed, and keep my hands tight on his wide shoulders.

It feels so good to be held like this. To feel the need rising up in him and the answering want in me.

“Jamie,” he says. The voice against my neck is hoarse. “Jesus, I need you so bad.”

He’s hard against my leg. The outline is clear through his pants and I take a deep, shaking breath. There’s no artifice here. No games, no manipulation.

“I need you too,” I whisper.

He groans, moving the scruff of his cheek over my chest, and closes his lips around my nipple. I close my eyes as sensations sweep through my chest. He licks, and bites, worrying it between his teeth.

“Oh,” I whisper. “Oh.”

“You have to tell me what you’re feeling,” he says, a large hand moving down across my stomach. “Talk to me, okay?”

“Yeah.”

The hand pauses between my legs, cupping me through my underwear. “I’ll listen to whatever you tell me, through your words or your body.” He presses down with the heel of his hand and a shaky breath escapes me.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. Since desire was a physical thing, a source of red-hot emotion coursing through my limbs.

Parker uses a hand to gently push my knees apart. He teases me through the fabric, and I keep my arm firmly placed over my head. Try to focus on nothing but my pleasure.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs. “So at least one of you is talking to me.”

“Parker,” I mutter.

He chuckles. “There she is. What do you want me to do, baby?”

“I don’t want to say it.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t hear it aloud.”

“One day,” he promises, but he takes pity on me, long fingers hooking around the elastic hem of my panties. And then he waits a few seconds, but hearing no protest, he tugs them down my legs. They only make it to my knees before he curses.

“Jamie, fucking hell… You’re going to make me last all of two seconds tonight, look at you. You’re so pretty.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper. He blows over my exposed skin and I wrench my arm away to find him grinning. “Parker!”

“Yes?” He puts his hands on my hip bones, long fingers curling down toward my center. “What do you want me to do, huh? Tell me, baby.”

“I hate you,” I whisper.

His grin widens. “No, you don’t. But let me show you what I want to do…” He bends forward and kisses the inside of my thigh. Kisses the top of my mound, my other leg. “This. And then I want to do this…”

He kisses me softly, open-mouthed, right there, and I’m so grateful I didn’t have to use my words. Grateful that he’s treating this with a smile and a laugh and with darkened desire in his eyes. Calloused fingers help spread me and all I can do is breathe deeply, chest rising and falling in tune to his mouth on my skin.

Lee never liked doing this. He made it seem like a favor, a sacrifice on his part, and it made me feel bad for wanting it. For liking it. It had stopped being a part of our sex lives years ago.

There’s no comparison to the man now between my legs.

It’s too much, and my nerve-endings are too sensitive. I need this to end. I need… but as I reach down and run a hand into his hair, prepared to stop him, he flicks his tongue. And my thought process short-circuits. I tug him closer to my skin instead.

And then I’m barreling toward an orgasm.

It surprises me with the unexpected force that sweeps through me. My legs straighten and I tighten my hand in his hair, breathing becoming difficult. And he doesn’t stop. Not until I tug at his hair, breathless, does he look up. Dark blue eyes meet mine with a desire that makes my heart clench.

“I want to do that again,” he murmurs. “All day, all night.”

“Your employees would have something to say about that.”

He grins, the crooked, victorious smile. And I’ve never wanted anything like I want him in this moment. “The yacht club will never stand a chance pitted against you.”

I have to swallow hard. “Come here.”

He climbs up my body, kissing it all the way. He goes still when I reach for the zipper in his pants.

“You sure?” he asks. “We can stop with this. I’m happy to go slow, Jamie. Whatever you-oh, fuck. Jesus.”

I tighten my grip around him and watch as his expression pinches, eyes closing. The square jaw sets beneath the stubble and he breathes sharply out of his nose. This large man, tanned and glorious, is stretched out beside me… completely unmanned by my touch. His erection is like solid stone in my grip and already weeping.

And the last of my fears melt away.

This is Parker. This is me. Letting him in will hurt, but so will letting him go. There’s no safe option anymore.

Maybe there never was.

I kick my panties off from their spot around my ankles. He’d never gotten them down any further.

Anticipation flutters through me. “Do you have…?”

He nods. “One second.”

When he returns, condom on, I open my arms to him. He covers me like a warm blanket, all hot skin and warm kisses and a need that makes the arms on either side of my head tremble. “Jamie,” he mutters. It sounds like an admonition and a prayer, his mouth drifting down to my neck. “Dear God…”

I bend my legs around his hips and feel the blunt head of him resting on my stomach. The blue of his eyes looks almost dark in the dim light, throwing shadows across his tan skin. “Jamie,” he murmurs.

“Yes?” I whisper. Any louder and the moment would shatter, float away. I tilt my hips to welcome him in. It feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.

“I want to go slow,” he says, a hand drifting down to my hip. He grips himself, aligning us with measured strokes.

I don’t need slow. I just need him. “You can go at whatever pace you’d like,” I say, “as long as you go.”