Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) Read online

  Cool air assailed her stomach and his rough, erotic stroke teased above the waistline of her skirt.

  Her cardigan was gone, only the tank from her sweater set still in place. When had that happened?

  Her heart tumbled and her fingers tightened in his hair. Intimacy. This was what it felt like. Explosive and languid all at once, nerve endings on high alert and laid bare for contact.

  She moaned and arched into his touch, needing more. Higher. Preferably without the confines of her bra, which felt two sizes too small.

  Ramsay kissed along her jaw, down her neck. “A kiss isn’t enough.” He nipped her earlobe, his thumbs teasing the undersides of her breasts through the silk covering them. “I want more.”

  So did she. Hours of it. Starting right now. She fisted the hem of his T-shirt and tugged, slipping her hands underneath. Hot skin and hard muscle rippled beneath her palms. Amazing. So alive and powerful.

  A hiss sounded at her ear. “I’ll take that as a yes.” In one smooth move, he peeled her sweater up and over her head, tossed it to the floor, and froze.

  * * *

  Ramsay stared at the ancient black filigree pendant dangling between the swells of Trinity’s breasts, the shock of Lexi’s mark ripping his lust from underneath him.

  Somewhere in the night he’d forgotten his mission. Gotten lost in Trinity’s bright, crisp scent and her warm, sweet taste, eager to see what lay beneath her prim and proper sweaters, only to crash head-on into what had brought him here in the first place.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Her innocent, breathless voice lashed his conscience even as her heavy lidded eyes and flushed cheeks drew him back in. Praise The Great One, her breasts were full and lifted by lavender silk and lace like a damned offering. He’d bet everything he owned her nipples matched the pale pink of her lips. They wouldn’t stay that way long, though. They’d be a nice, rosy color after he’d licked and sucked them like a ripe fucking peach.

  “You’ve never done this.” It wasn’t a question. More like his common sense talking out loud.

  She flinched and tried to cover herself.

  Idiot. He snatched her wrists and pulled her close, her tight nipples rasping through the thin silk against his chest.

  A subtle tremor racked her body. “I’m sorry, I don’t know—”

  “Shhh.” Ramsay stroked her hair and shifted against her, his cock an uncomfortable ache behind his jeans. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Hell, if he was honest, she’d done everything right. Enough to make him forget his purpose.

  Praise The Great One, he was a leech. She was adopted. Probably didn’t have a clue about the necklace. He should have done this all different. Researched her through records or talked to people she worked with.

  But you didn’t because you want her, pendant or not.

  The thought lashed him. Hard. He leaned back, not enough to let her escape, but enough for eye contact.

  Chocolate eyes stared back at him. So honest and vulnerable, like a direct line to her soul. Guileless. Hungry.

  “I’ve never been anyone’s first kiss.” The realization rushed past his lips before it fully registered in his thoughts. Something foreign, almost primitive, flickered to life.

  You could have all her other firsts too.

  Oh, hell that was dangerous territory. Dangerous and barbarously pleasing. “Do you want more?”

  She bit her lip, fear creeping into her eyes for the first time since he’d walked through her front door. “I’d like that.”

  He nudged her head higher and stroked her jawline with his thumb. “Then I’ll give you more. Whatever you need. But we go slow.”

  “Why? I was fine and then you—”

  He stopped her with a finger at her lips. So soft and swollen from his kiss. The picture of them stretched around his cock flashed with excruciating detail. “Details, Sunshine. A woman like you deserves them.”

  Another shudder moved through her, but this time her breath caught with it.

  A bed. His mind stamped the demand and calculated the steps it would take to get from her office to the queen-size bed he’d marked on his way down the hall. Ten seconds max with her body pressed against him.

  He swept her into his arms and strode out and around the corner to her lamp-lit room in under five. Lowering her to her feet, he kissed the spot above the pendant. Her waist was tiny beneath his hands. Delicate. And yet a substantial power radiated from her core. One that drew him in with a velvet, iron fist.

  Slowly he turned them, teasing the swell of one breast with flicks of his tongue at the edge of her bra. He sat and centered her between his legs. With a lingering kiss against her sternum, he looked up and slid one hand to the closure at the back of her skirt.

  Her eyes were shut and her fingertips bit into his shoulders.

  “Give me your eyes, Sunshine.” He unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down. “Watch me while I look at you.”

  Her grip tightened, but she opened her eyes on a shaky exhale. “I’m scared.”

  Fuck. Responsibility and something else he couldn’t quite define settled on his shoulders.

  Her skirt hung loose on her hips, tiny scraps of lavender lace peeking out to tempt his fingers. One push and she’d be nearly bare, only curves, silk, and sexy heels left to shred his patience. “No pressure. Only what you want. However much you want.”

  He circled her belly button with his thumb and the muscles beneath quivered.

  “I want.” She slid one hand to the back of his head and urged his mouth toward her stomach.

  Her crisp scent surrounded him. Filled his lungs so there was nothing else save the faint musk of her arousal. The Great One be praised, he wanted the taste of that on his tongue. Needed it.

  Pushing away from her urgent grip, he eased back. It was either that or break his promise and devour her. “Show me.”

  Shock and an uncertain quaver moved across her features. She glanced over one shoulder at the door.

  Oh, hell no. The woman was a walking sun goddess in petite form. No way was he letting her get in some bullshit headspace. “Stop.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his.

  Ramsay scooted to the top of the bed and rested his shoulders on the padded headboard. He motioned to the side closest to him. “Come here.”

  Her hands fluttered awkwardly at her waist and she wobbled unsteady on her heels beside him. Her black skirt teetered at the widest stretch of her hips.

  “Give me your hand,” he said.

  Her eyebrows pinched inward.

  “Your hand, Sunshine. Give it to me.”

  She held it out, cautious, as though ready to snatch it back.

  Ramsay stroked the inside of her wrist and tugged her closer. “You wanted to run. Why?”

  Her gaze zeroed in on his touch at her pulse. “I’ve never…” She swallowed and met his gaze. “No man has ever seen me.”

  His cock jerked and lengthened farther. A barely contained growl vibrated at the hollow of his neck. He pressed her hand to the insistent bulge behind his jeans. “You did this.” He guided her palm up and down his shaft and flexed his hips into her touch. “Your smile, your words, your kiss.” With a pointed look, he scanned her semi-dressed body. “And that was before I saw a damned thing underneath.”

  He relinquished her hand and tucked both of his behind his head. “Now show me. Own it.”

  The challenge brightened her dark eyes. She straightened and her shoulders pushed back at a tentative, but proud angle as she sucked in a deep breath. She rested her hands at her hips and licked her lower lip.

  He fisted his hands, biceps straining to stay situated.

  The skirt swished to the floor and pooled around those prim but oh-so-naughty black pumps.

  Damn. He gave up keeping his hands contained and palmed his cock through his jeans, eyeballing the most amazing curves and creamy flesh on the planet. “Oh, no, Sunshine. You do not doubt your beauty. Ever.”

  He stroked the curve
of her hip, her skin as soft as the silk panties barely covering the sweet stretch between her legs. He was so getting his tongue there. Licking and sucking until she screamed the damn building down.

  Trailing his gaze up to her face, he squeezed her hip. “Still with me?”

  A pretty flush stretched across her collarbone and cheeks, and her breath moved in and out raggedly. “Very.”

  Best. Answer. Ever.

  Unleashing more of his power than he should, he dragged her across him and onto the bed and took her mouth. Her flavor consumed him. Hell, everything about her did. Scent. Touch. The whole package.

  He tugged her bra straps over her shoulders, teasing her skin along the way with the gentle scrape of his nails and licking between her breasts. A quick pinch of his fingers behind her back and the hooks slipped free. He pulled the offensive silk away and tossed it to the floor.

  His breath seized and a maddened hammering started up in his chest. Perfect. Soft ivory globes tipped in pale pink. Not too full, not too small. Just enough to fill his hands and tempt his mouth.

  He rose to his knees and savored her innocent yet sultry pose, one knee cocked to cover the last scrap of fabric. His eyes locked on the heels she still wore. God, this woman had abso-fucking-lutely no damned clue how much power she held.

  He circled one ankle, teased the arch of her foot with the barest stroke, and pulled the shoe free. It clattered to the floor with a muted thunk.

  Her hand splayed wide across his thigh, as if the contact might somehow better ground her. “What are you thinking?”

  Ramsay shifted, kneeled between her ankles, and slipped the other shoe off. “I’m thinking I’m one scrap of fabric away from being the luckiest bastard on the planet.” He kissed the inside of one knee and nuzzled her soft thighs. “I’m thinking it’s a damned shame you’ve never enjoyed this before, but am thrilled I’m the one giving it to you.” He slid his hands under her perky ass, curled his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and tugged them over her hips. “And I’m thinking there is absolutely nothing I want more right now than my mouth on your pussy.”

  Her startled gasp rasped through the room.

  He pulled the silk free and tossed it aside, splaying her knees wide before she could recover from his crude but dead-on accurate statement.

  Sweet, delicate pink folds, swollen and begging to be touched. He stroked the back of her thighs and kissed the tightly trimmed thatch of curls. “You’re wet, Sunshine.”

  Slowly, he worked his hands toward her core, ready to lift her hips up to his watering mouth. “I can see it.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deep, the light musk as bright and addictive on his senses as the rest of her. “Smell it.”

  “But you…” She tried to scoot away.

  Ramsay slid his hands beneath her ass and held her fast. So close. Inches from sucking the tiny clit peeking out from its hood. “What, Sunshine?” He blew on the sensitive spot and reveled in the flex of her hips. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Your clothes.” She gripped his forearms, a satisfying storm of desperation in her eyes. “I’m naked and you’re—”

  “Trinity.” He lifted his head just enough to hold her gaze. “You do not worry about me. You do not think. As of right now, the only thing you do is watch, let go, and feel.”

  He gave into his hunger and swiped his tongue through her folds.

  Her legs jerked and a surprised squeak shot through the room.

  A slow, steady rumble built in his chest. His lips and teeth sucked and nipped her sweetness with even more intensity than their kiss. Damn but this was powerful. Her hands in his hair, breathy moans in his ears, and hips lifting to meet his devouring mouth.

  The Great One help him, he was out of control. Her taste and the need to feel her release on his tongue nothing short of compulsion. An unrelenting demand from the universe.

  He teased her entrance, sucked her clit deep, and slid a finger home.

  She cried out and arched off the bed, her pretty nipples hard and begging for attention.

  Ramsay pressed another finger to join the first and kissed his way up her body. Tasting her was one thing. Watching her expression the first time she came for him? No way was he missing that.

  He latched onto one nipple and suckled, flicking the tiny nub with his tongue as his thumb worked her clit. He pulled away and blew on the tip. His cock pulsed, angry and aching for the tight slick surface surrounding his fingers.

  He swirled his tongue around the other peak. “That’s it, Sunshine. Ride my fingers.” Another lick. “Take what you need and show me how hard you come.”

  Her eyes flashed open, pupils so dilated they burned pitch black. Her nails bit into his scalp and biceps, and her breaths came in ragged, needy mewls.

  Pressing deep, he crooked his fingers and stroked the sweet spot along her front wall.

  Her thighs tightened and shook.

  He ground the heel of his hand on her clit.

  “Ramsay!”

  Her walls clamped around his fingers, and the hottest groan he’d ever heard in his life rang long and loud.

  His name. She’d cried his name.

  Mine.

  The thought slammed into him, an unmerciful demand to take and claim. To make her come again. To feel her pussy clench and release on his cock the way it sucked his fingers. To feel her slick release as he rode toward his own.

  His cock jerked in agreement, the ache shifting to a demanding throb.

  Her soft sigh drew his gaze from the lazy push and pull of his fingers at her core to her closed eyes and parted lips. Her head was angled to one side, languid and easy. Peaceful.

  Innocent.

  Untouched by anyone but him.

  His stomach clenched. Reason stomped past the raging length between his legs and scowled at his conscience. Getting her off was one thing, but taking her innocence would shoot them to a whole different level of intense. He might be mercenary in getting information for his brother, but he’d be damned if he fucked Trinity over with something as important as this.

  He shifted and pulled the comforter over her.

  Her head lulled to one side and she yawned. Actually yawned. It was cute. Like a kitten settling into a cozy spot.

  He tucked her close, her back to his front. “Relax, Sunshine. Give into it. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Not until morning, anyway. He’d hold her. Revel in being her first, in this at least, and then take a shot at researching her tomorrow. The right way.

  His dick would just have to live with it.

  Chapter 8

  Trinity snuggled deeper beneath her blankets, her quiet cocoon cooling just enough to tug her from sleep. Gentle sunshine danced behind her eyelids and a dark, sensual scent clung to her pillowcase.

  Saturday. Perfect for lazing a few extra hours—

  Dark scent?

  Ramsay.

  She shot upright and blinked to clear her vision. She didn’t have a stitch on, and her clothes were scattered over the floor. The sheets and blankets were twisted in a chaotic mess. Not at all the tidy, barely-ruffled pattern from a normal night of sleep.

  She hadn’t imagined it. She’d actually gotten naked with Ramsay and had her first mind-blowing orgasm with a man.

  So where the heck was he?

  She scrambled out of bed and snatched her robe off the back of her bedroom door. Light pushed between the blind slats, and the shouts and laughter of kids somewhere down the block flittered through the windows, but her apartment was silent.

  The bathroom door sat open, no lights on. Her office was empty too. She rushed down the hall to the living room and kitchen.

  Nothing.

  She fisted the sides of her robes between her breasts and glanced back at her bedroom.

  The picture of Ramsay poised between her thighs, his dark hair tickling her skin, flashed in excruciating detail, and the muscles in her belly rippled. Oh, no. Her imagination was excellent. Freakishly creative, for that matter, but
she did not make that up. No one could make something like that up.

  She padded to the kitchen. Maybe he’d needed to run an errand. Or had work to do. Whatever it was, she could figure it out over coffee. Everything puzzled together better with coffee.

  She rounded the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and marched toward the pantry. Next to the coffeemaker was a paper towel with black writing in sharp angles, the Sharpie from her office perched on top.

  Need a few days to wrap up an issue at work. Dinner when it’s done?

  R

  P.S. You’re cute when you sleep.

  He’d left his number, which was a good sign. Wasn’t it?

  God, the things he’d done. The way he’d touched her and the way she’d responded. Maybe her dad was right. Maybe she really did have some of the legendary passion of the Black contingent flowing in her veins.

  She leaned into the counter and studied Ramsay’s broad scribbles, fingering the rough edge of the paper towel.

  You’re cute when you sleep.

  Sleep. Holy crap! She’d actually slept without her ear buds. She never slept without them. Too much noise from her Spiritu self trying to break through her unconscious. At least that’s what Dad claimed.

  It must have been the orgasm.

  An unpleasant and weighty sensation spread from head to toe.

  Ramsay hadn’t had one. She’d come harder than she ever had in her life and promptly fallen off to Snoozeville. He hadn’t even gotten his clothes off. Was she out of her freakin’ mind?

  Trinity gripped the countertop and squeezed her eyes shut. No wonder he’d left. Hell, he probably ditched her in the middle of the night. What kind of woman had a monster orgasm and left the man who’d given it to her high and dry?

  She opened her eyes and picked up the paper towel. His number was scratched toward the bottom. Maybe she was jumping into full-fledged freak-out mode too quick.

  Ugh. The back and forth was giving her a headache.

  She snatched the coffee from the pantry and counted off scoops. Coffee first. Then she’d call Margo and figure out what to do next.