White Lies (The Arcane Society #2)(39)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Outraged, she fisted her hands in his hair, intending to push him away. Somehow she accidentally pulled him closer.

“Open up all of your senses,” he whispered. “Run hot for me.”

That was one risk she did not want to take tonight, she thought. She could not bear to discover that he was not as enthralled as she was by the passion that had flared between them.

He eased his thumbs into her, pressing upward, finding the perfect spot just inside. At the same time, his tongue stroked the sensitive bud.

She was suddenly clenched so tightly she had nothing left for the battle. She did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She surrendered.

The climax rolled through her, sweeping away the last of her control. All her senses flashed into full awareness. Power danced in the shadows around her; hers and Jake’s. She realized dimly that he was running wide open, too.

Her heels dug into the mattress. She heard a high, exultant shriek. She was screaming. She never screamed in bed. Then again, she had never had an orgasm with a man, either.

Jake moved swiftly up her body and sank deep inside her with a long, heavy thrust.

But she was impossibly sensitive now and he was much bigger than any of the handful of men she had gone to bed with in the past. The result was an overwhelming storm of sensation.

A second series of small shock waves reverberated through her. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Yes,” Jake muttered against her mouth. “Just like that. Tight and hot.”

The muscles of his back went rigid beneath her palms. His skin was damp, not from the pool water; from perspiration. He drove himself into her again and again, hard and fast.

Seconds later his release slammed through him. She felt every wave.

When it was finally over he collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the bed with the weight of his utterly relaxed body.

“Knew it was going to be like that,” he said into the pillow beside her.

He was telling the truth.

Chapter Twenty-three

Jake finally gave up trying to ignore the pushing and prodding. He roused reluctantly, opened his eyes and levered himself up onto his elbows. The sight of Clare sprawled beneath him, her hair a tangled cloud, her face still flushed, filled him with a bone-deep satisfaction.

“What?” he asked, lazily kissing her nose. “I’m trying to get some sleep here.”

“I noticed. But I want to get up.”

“So? Get up.”

“I can’t. You’re on top of me.”

He looked down at her br**sts. “Huh. You’re right.”

“Off.”

“Okay, okay.”

He flopped onto his back, folded one arm behind his head and admired the sweet, full globes of her rear as she disappeared into the bathroom.

“You know, you have a really terrific butt,” he called after her.

There was a short, startled silence from inside the bath.

“Gosh, thanks,” Clare said eventually. “Yours isn’t bad, either.”

He grinned, too relaxed to move. “I can’t believe you’ve never gone skinny-dipping until tonight.”

Clare reappeared, enveloped in his robe. Probably because hers was still damp, he decided. He smiled at the sight. She looked like she belonged to him, he thought.

She watched him steadily for a moment, thoughtful and sultry.

“I can’t believe I let you do what you did to me,” she said finally. “And swimming naked was the least of it.”

He rolled off the bed and started toward her. “Let’s get something straight here, lady. You didn’t let me do anything. I had to fight you every inch of the way, remember? We even had an extended debate at one point.”

“Yes, we did, didn’t we?” She tipped her head slightly to one side. “I think I lost.”

He stopped directly in front of her and planted both hands against the wall on either side of her head. “You were just overcome by my irrefutable logic.”

“That’s right. I remember now. Your brilliant arguments consisted of ‘trust me’ and ‘lie back and enjoy it.’ How could I have failed to be swayed by that kind of snappy logic?”

He smiled slowly. “So, was it good for you?”

She studied him for a moment with an unreadable expression. “If I tell you that this is the first time in my life that I have never had to fake an orgasm, will you become insufferably egotistical?”

“No, honest.” He took one hand off the wall long enough to cross his heart. “I will be proud, of course, but very, very humble.”

“Gee. Why does that statement lack the ring of truth?”

“Probably because I am lying through my teeth. You know, it’s downright scary to think that if I hadn’t come along, you might have spent the rest of your life never knowing the joys of sex with me.”

“Think maybe I should get down on my knees and thank you at some point in the near future?” she asked with perfect innocence.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed reverently. “The image that comes to mind is enough to make me feel a trifle faint.”

She punched him lightly in the ribs. “You keep forgetting you’re talking to someone who always knows when you’re fibbing.”

He laughed. “Want to know what really scares the hell out of me?”

“What?”

“The thought of never having met you.”

“Is this your way of saying that it was good for you, too?”

“The best,” he said simply.

He was telling the truth again. She was flabbergasted. She reminded herself that at that particular moment, awash in postcoital afterglow, he might actually believe what he had just said, in which case it was the truth. But only for tonight.

People always assumed that the truth was never as complicated as a lie. They were wrong.

He straightened and walked into the bathroom. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s get back to your suggestion.”

“What suggestion?” she asked from the doorway.

He turned on the faucet. “I’m not sure of all the details, but I believe it involved getting down on your knees to thank me personally for the best orgasm of your life.”

“It’s kind of late. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you up past your bedtime.”

“Not a problem. I’m already up.”

She looked down at his heavily aroused body.

“Yes,” she said. “I can see that. Well, Mom always told me that good manners are important.”