Bedded Bliss (Found in Oblivion #1) - Cari Quinn Page 0,34
the same. She moaned and the reverberation fluttered against the hand still low on her belly. “Do you smell like cinnamon all over?” he asked, pressing his lips against her throat to gauge her reaction.
Her body said more than her mouth did by far.
“Only the places where scent should go.”
Again, he chuckled. He shouldn’t have been able to hear her responses considering the throb of the music around them, but they were sequestered away from everyone else. A force field seemed to box them in, cushioning them in a space where nothing was wrong and everything felt right.
Especially her, stiffly swaying in his arms.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Do you know who I am?” he echoed, curling his fingers into soft, giving flesh. She was a mother, and he’d always run from those, as if pregnancy was a contagious disease. He wasn’t ready for kids. Wasn’t ready to be a father, or to be with a woman who was a mother. But inexplicably, knowing that she’d given birth fascinated him, even made him want to trace the feathery marks on her belly with his tongue.
Shit, that was some damn potent whisky.
“Y-yes. I do now. I didn’t at first.” She mumbled something else and flagged down a passing waiter. She gulped down a couple of sips of her drink, then held the cold glass against her chest. “I never saw you play before. You’re good.”
“I’m amazing,” he corrected, and glimpsed a hint of a smile curving her glossy wine-red mouth. Somehow she didn’t leave a lipstick imprint on her glass.
Women were magicians, the lot of them.
“Cocky,” she said, granting him a sidelong look. “I don’t do cocky rockstars.”
“How about modest ones?” He batted his eyelashes and she giggled. “Oh Chloe, you shouldn’t praise me. I’m really humble.”
At once, her laughter subsided. “You do know.”
“I know a few things. I know you’re absolutely gorgeous, more beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever seen.”
She scoffed. “Right. You’ve never given me a second look.”
“That’s because I never saw you like this.” He gave her hair a light tug. “All loose and relaxed, moving your hips. By the way, you’re not moving anymore.” He gave her belly a light squeeze, and she stumbled into a halting dance step. “That’s it. You know what to do. Just pretend we’re naked.”
She sucked down another gulp of her drink, but she didn’t stop moving. “So I do all the work and you just stay still?”
“Oh, Red, I can guarantee you, if we were in bed, I wouldn’t be still for a goddamn second.” Emphasizing his words, he flexed his hips against her ass. He gripped a handful of her hair with his other hand, tugging her head back until he could speak against her ear. “You gotta tell me something.”
She just kept dancing, and drinking, and occasionally darting assessing little looks at him.
“Okay then. We’ll just dance. Words don’t matter anyway, do they?”
She shook her head and turned toward him, arching up to wrap one arm around his neck. Her lip brushed the edge of her glass and he bent to flick his tongue along it, moaning at the hint of lime and vodka on her flesh. He grabbed the glass and tipped up her face with his other hand, waiting until her seductive sinkhole eyes settled on his. They were both more drunk than sober, so he didn’t want there to be any confusion.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
“Where?” she murmured, and he groaned.
“Let’s start with right here.” He tapped his thumb against her lips and they parted for him, dark red and slickly wet.
Reminding him of other wet places he couldn’t wait to taste.
He would’ve sworn he lowered his head forever. She closed the distance between them, fisting a hand in his hair to bring him the rest of the way. Their mouths collided, hungry, seeking. No finesse, no artifice. Just all-consuming lust as he slipped his tongue around hers.
She trembled at the first glancing blow, and all out shuddered as he drove in deep. Something shattered, and it didn’t take a genius to realize it was her glass. He’d simply let go, and now his hand was in her hair, gripping it so he could pull back her head. She opened for him, every part of her lush and welcoming. He was straining, hard, desperate.
He’d never been more urgent in his life.
She pulled back and gasped for air, and he dropped his forehead against hers. If she moved away, he’d just yank her back again. They