Emilie Rose - The Jarrods - Inheritance

“Not yet,” he repeated, putting her hand back down beside her.

And then with slow deliberation he began to undo her top button. She gasped as he undid another and slid her nightshirt off her shoulder a little. “I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” he murmured, lowering his head and trailing a kiss from the curve of her shoulder to her throat, then down to the valley between her breasts.

He inhaled deeply, then lifted his face and undid another button, exposing her breasts. Soon he was leaning over her, using his mouth to possess the tip of one nipple before moving to the other, gliding his tongue back and forth over them, imprinting them with his taste.

“Oh, my God,” she muttered, shuddering at such an exquisite touch. “I …”

“Steady, my lovely.” He shifted back a little. Another button undone allowed him to drift kisses along the exposed skin to her belly button. She shuddered again when he stroked his palm over her stomach, before the rest of the buttons were unfastened and the material finally parted, falling away to her sides and revealing her near-nakedness to him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, dipping his fingers under the waistband then peeling the panties down her body. By the time he’d finished, he’d moved to kneel between her thighs. She moaned faintly, suspecting a blush was rolling all the way down to her feet.

“So beautiful.” He slowly reached out and slipped a finger through the triangle of curls, making her gasp. “You like that?”

She moaned again. “Oh, yes.”

For long, heart-stopping moments he toyed with her dampening skin, sending tremors through her. And then he slid his hands under her, cupping the cheeks of her bottom and tilting her lower body up to him, the satin material of her nightshirt falling away fully as his head lowered to the dark V at her thighs.

But before he touched, he stopped and looked up again, his eyes catching hers, holding still. He didn’t speak or move a muscle, but there was a primitive look in his eyes that swept her breath away.

Slowly he lowered his head again and sought her out, his mouth beginning a slow worship of her femininity. She gasped as his tongue slid between her folds, teasing and tantalizing her, stroking her in erotic exploration, taking her to the brink, then bringing her back … once … twice … then finally he took her right over the edge, any remnants of her control disintegrating as she pulsed with the purest of pleasures.

Long moments later, she was still trying to recover when he rose to his feet and stripped off his trousers. She watched mesmerized as he put on a condom, thrilled that she had the power to make this man so hot and hard for her.

He was soon kneeling back down between her legs, and kissing his way right up the center of her until he found her mouth. He gave her one long kiss, then suddenly he was part of her.

In her.

She held him deep inside, finally one with Blake Jarrod. She’d been waiting so long. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

He kissed her deeper as he began to thrust, long strokes time after time. Soon she began to tremble around him, toppling over the edge again, the flickering of the flames in the fireplace nothing compared to their own fire burning within.

Samantha lay amongst the cushions in front of the fire and watched Blake stride toward the downstairs bathroom. He’d covered her with the throw from the couch, and she enjoyed lying there watching his bare back and buttocks that were all firm muscle and arrestingly male.

She smiled to herself in the gentle glow from the fireplace. She couldn’t believe it. She’d made love with Blake. She felt marvelous. He’d been so generous and loving and …

All at once, she found herself blinking back sudden tears. Their lovemaking had been so much more than sex. She hadn’t admitted it to herself until now lest she back out, but when he’d said earlier they were having sex, something had gnawed at her as she’d gone up the stairs. It had sounded like they would merely be having sex for sex’s sake. And while that was somewhat true, that wasn’t what she was only about.

She’d known the same was true for Blake. He’d already proven that by not taking advantage this morning when he’d thought she was a virgin. She’d “made love” with Blake, despite love not being involved. There was respect between them and that was more important to her.

Right then she heard him coming back and she quickly blinked away any suggestion of tears. He wouldn’t want to know. Otherwise he’d think she hadn’t been able to handle it, when it was merely because she hadn’t expected to be quite so touched by all this.

He gave a sexy smile as he dropped down and leaned over to kiss her. “How do you feel?” he murmured, pulling back and looking into her eyes.

She was fully aware of his nakedness next to her. She could easily reach out and touch him. “Wonderful.”

He looked pleased as he lifted the throw and slid under it to lie on his back, pulling her against his chest and kissing the top of her head but being careful of her injury. “Is that better?”

She was glad he couldn’t look into her eyes. “Much.”

He chuckled, his breath stirring her hair. “Who knew, eh?”

“What?”

“That we’d be so good together.”

She’d never doubted it. “We work well together in business, so why not in bed?”

“True.”

After that, they lay in quiet. The fire crackled and the clock on the wall ticked the seconds by. Samantha began to feel sleepy. There was no place she’d rather be in the world right now, she thought, as her eyelids drifted shut and she listened to the tick tock … tick tock … tick … she loved him … tock.

Startled, she jumped. Dear God, she loved him .

“What’s wrong?”

Her brain stumbled. Panic whorled inside her. The ability to speak deserted her for a moment … and then somehow she pulled herself together. “What? Oh, nothing. I think I fell asleep too fast.”

“Don’t worry. There’s no chance of that happening again just yet.” He put his hand under her chin, lowering his head and lifting her mouth up to his. She quickly closed her eyes, hiding them from him, hiding her deepest secret. She’d betrayed him by falling in love with him. And she’d betrayed herself. She hadn’t wanted to love him. She had never intended for that to happen.

Then he kissed her and the slow, delicious process of making love to her started again. She prayed to God for the strength not to reveal her love for this man who was leaving his mark on her like no one had ever done before. She couldn’t afford to give her feelings away, or their relationship would be over before it had really begun. Wanting Blake had been hard enough.

Loving him was going to be intolerable.

Blake made love to her many times during the night, both downstairs and in his bed. Samantha had never known such bliss, but by the time the next morning rolled around and she’d gone back to her own room to get dressed for work, she had a thousand worries inside her head. She loved Blake and that presented so many problems. She’d virtually promised him she wouldn’t fall for him. Now it seemed like she’d gone back on her word.

Worse, somewhere along the line she hadn’t exactly “fallen” for him. No, she’d skipped that bit and had progressed straight to loving him. They’d worked together so closely these past two years, she already knew Blake was the type of man she admired and respected. And falling “in” love implied she could fall “out” of love with him—like she’d done with Carl. With Blake, she knew there would be no retracting her love for him.