More Than Crave You Read online

  A silvery teardrop falls past her lashes and onto her dusky, satiny cheek. As I brush it away with my thumb, I feel my hand shake. The naked need on her face stuns me. For the first time, I’m convinced she feels something for me…

  “Nia? You okay, honey?”

  “I gave in to the pull between us that night because I couldn’t help myself. But I’ve been wondering ever since if it was just sex and convenience for you, whether you saw me as an easy way to curb your grief and loneliness. And I…”

  When more tears come, I caress her face and thumb her lower lip. “No. None of that.”

  I hate like hell that I ever made her feel insecure. Plenty of her exes have given her too many reasons to guard her heart. Even if she never loved them, their disregard for her feelings must have hurt. Until Maxon, Griff, and Noah verbally slapped me with some reality, I don’t think I came across as any less selfish or focused on my own needs.

  “Then I don’t understand,” she murmurs.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised. Communication in the office only works between us because you read my mind more often than not. Maybe I expected you to somehow understand how I saw our future together. But what we have isn’t a meeting or a memo. I have to show you what I have in mind, so that’s what I’m trying to do. My goal is for you to be wearing the brightest, happiest smile of your life when you say ‘I do.’”

  She sniffles as another tear falls. “When did you get romantic?”

  “When I realized I was being an ass.” I brush her tears away with my fingertips, then kiss their wet paths before I lead her toward the backyard again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” We emerge from the shady side yard and into the bright sun bathing the deck. She glances around the huge private space with a gasp, the sound nearly swallowed by gentle winds, swaying palms, and distant waves. Then she fixes her gaze on the tropical pool mere steps away. “Wow, if this is how you’re going to say you’re sorry, this place is worth a little suffering.”

  Her teasing makes me laugh—and gives me hope. “You keep me guessing. I like that, you know.”

  “Really?” She gives her lip a pensive nibble. “I’ve always had the feeling Becca was more predictable.”

  “She was.”

  “And you liked that about her. I’ve been thinking that’s what you want.”

  How did I not know—or at least guess—she felt this way? Probably because I knew it was incorrect and, therefore, groundless. But Nia had no way of knowing. It’s not her job to guess; it’s my job to tell her. I can’t thank Maxon, Griff, and Noah enough for that gem of wisdom.

  “You know, when I decided to start looking for a wife, I probably did want that because I wanted order to the chaos in my life. But as time has gone on…” I shake my head. “No, as I spent more time with you, I realized I didn’t need what I had before. The day I told you to place the wife-wanted ad, you asked if I that was how I intended to replace Becca. I told you no one could. It’s true, and I can’t bring her back. But I can honestly say after being with you that I don’t need any semblance of my old life anymore. I need to move on and embrace the future. And I can’t see doing that with anyone but you.”

  To my surprise—and delight—Nia comes closer. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to make me all mushy and melty.”

  I laugh. “I want you mushy and melty.”

  “Not until after the food. You promised me lunch.”

  Though I’m not excited about letting her go, I release her and lead her to the table. There’s a feast, a bottle of champagne, and two flutes waiting for us.

  We eat chicken, fruit, salad, and coconut pudding. Every bite is delicious, and the champagne takes the edge off my nerves. Instrumental mood music plays softly in the background as we talk about how incredible the helicopter tour was and how much the thought of living on this island already excites us. Our future stretches out in front of me. I can almost reach it. I’m getting closer… If I can just keep saying and doing the right things, maybe today will end exactly the way I planned it.

  “Want to swim?” I ask as we stand and stretch, lazy from the food, booze, and sun.

  “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “So?” I give her a sly smile.

  Nia searches the deserted patio, her dark eyes dancing. “Are you proposing we skinny-dip?”

  “I’m proposing marriage. But I’m suggesting skinny-dipping for now. Interested?”

  “In broad daylight? At a stranger’s house?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are full of surprises today.”

  I grin. “Is that a yes?”

  “Why not?”

  I expect her to find her way to the nearby cabana to take off her clothes. I envision her emerging in a tightly wrapped towel and finding the most shadowed corner of the backyard before she works up the courage to drop the length of terry cloth and jump in the water. But that’s what Becca would have done—if she’d agreed to skinny-dip at all. Not Nia. She kicks her shoes off and under the table, pulls her T-shirt over her head, then shimmies out of her shorts. Suddenly, she’s wearing nothing but a lacy underwire bra in a shimmering cinnamon shade and a pair of matching boy shorts that do a wonderfully inadequate job of covering everything I want my hands and mouth on.

  I groan as I reach for the hem of my shirt, wondering how fast I can get everything off and feel her naked against me.

  “You’re moving slow,” she taunts as she fiddles with one of her bra straps, flicking it down her shoulder, then the other, so the soft cups cling to her breasts.

  “You’re tormenting me.”

  Nia smiles, then drops her gaze to my stiff cock. “It’s working.”

  Can’t refute that. “Take off the rest. I want you naked.”

  At my command, her nostrils flare. Her breathing quickens. She licks her lips as she reaches behind her for the hook.

  As I rip my shirt over my head and toss it across a chair, she turns away and manages to unfasten her bra. It slides from her body, baring her back to the shining sun. I’m fascinated by her skin, by its lush pigment, by the hues, shadows, and luster of it.

  I can’t stand not touching her for another minute.

  Sidling up behind her, I hook my thumbs in her barely there underwear and kiss my way from her shoulder to her neck. “Hurry.”

  When I slide her panties over her hips, she shimmies. Her sweet backside sways and moves against me. I skim my hands back up her thighs, planting one on her hip and circling the other around her waist. I’m a tall man with big hands. When I lay my palm flat, I’m hyperaware of the fact that my pinky stretches so, so close to her pussy. Her heat rises up to my fingers.

  She draws in a ragged breath. “Evan?”

  “Want me to touch you?” I drift a little lower, my fingertip resting a fraction of an inch from her cleft.

  “Yes.”

  She sounds breathy, aroused. I’m tall enough to peer over her shoulder and see that I’m right. Her chest rises and falls. Her taut, dark nipples shine in the sun. I want her now. My hands and mouth all over her. My cock deep inside her. In my head, I know I can’t rush this; she’s too important. On the other hand, I’m more than eager to dazzle her with orgasms…if I can.

  I lower my hand, closing the distance between my touch and her nerve-laden clit. I don’t even try to keep my hungry mouth off her skin. Instead, I drag my lips up her neck and toward her ear. Nia rewards me with a moan and a roll of her hips against my erection.

  Pressing against her luscious backside, I skim my fingers down to find her slick folds. She gasps. Shit, she’s soft as silk. I smell her arousal blending with the perfume of flowers in the air. Everything about this moment heightens my senses. I know I’m in the right place with the right woman at the right time.

  As I run my fingers into her furrow and gather her moisture, I nip at the sensitive spot below her lobe. “I’ve missed you, honey. I’ve missed the taste of your kiss and the way you call my name when you’re near c
limax. I’ve missed breathing you in when I’m inside you. I miss feeling close to you. I’ve missed feeling like you’re mine.”

  She melts back into me, head braced against my shoulder, eyes closed. “I’ve missed you, too, Evan. More than you know.”

  Longing bleeds from her breathy admission. She’s under my spell. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her there.

  With a moan, I strum my fingers over her hardening bud. “Want to show me how much?”

  Her breath catches. She gives a frantic nod as her body tightens around my touch. Power floods my veins. I’m holding her pleasure in my hand—literally. It thrills me. Becca had so many danger points and no-go zones in bed. Nia seems wide open and ready to do whatever pleases us both. The notion is dizzying.

  I lift my free hand to her breast and thumb her nipple relentlessly. I hope she’s sensitive here because I suddenly find myself fascinated. Her weight fills my palm. She tenses and whimpers as I pinch and stroke, envelop and twist the tip.

  “Evan…” She reaches back to grip my thigh.

  “Feel good?”

  “Yeah,” she breathes.

  “Spread your legs. I want to touch you deeper.”

  Nia doesn’t hesitate. I’m gratified when she slides her feet farther apart on the deck. I don’t waste a second before plunging my fingers inside her. She’s slick and tight and like something out of my fantasies. No wonder being inside her once somehow rewired my sex drive to respond to her completely.

  As she sucks in a breath, I drag my fingers across her clit again, brushing, teasing, tormenting. Her nails dig into my thigh. I see her nipples tighten even more, the tips gleaming in the afternoon sun.

  I don’t let up. I don’t stop for any moan, whimper, or plea. If orgasms will help her see how good we’ll be together, she’s going to have them. The fact I love giving them to her is a bonus.

  Suddenly, her entire body seizes up. She’s holding her breath, shuddering and tense against me. Her clit swells and hardens. Her pussy isn’t merely slick anymore. She’s wet. She’s juicy.

  She’s mine.

  “Come, honey. Right on my hand. Let me feel you. Let me hear you. Give it all to me.”

  Seconds later, climax comes fast and breaks hard. She keens out and convulses, chest buckling, hips rolling, lips parted with a scream of ecstasy. Pleasure suspends her for long moments, and I drink every moment in, teeming with triumph. Eagerness to be inside her—and to have the right to fill her every night—surges in a hot spill through my blood.

  With a rhythmic sweep of my fingers, I ride out her climax all the way to her gasping, frenzied end. Nia has barely had time to go limp in my arms before I turn her to face me and grab her body against mine. As she wraps her legs around my waist, I drop my head and seize her mouth, plunging hot, fast, and deep—the way I intend to do with my body soon.

  She clings, moaning into my mouth. As I cross the patio, she’s completely attuned to me, every whimper and shudder given to me totally and freely. This heady willingness is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I’m greedy for more.

  When I reach the table, I swipe one arm across its cool, flat surface, tumbling empty cups onto their sides and moving dishes out of my damn way. Then I lay Nia across the cleared surface and stare. At her darkened eyes and skin. At her stiff nipples still begging for attention. At her swollen, saturated pussy.

  Yes. To all of that, hell yes.

  I pull up a chair and sit between her splayed legs, then grip her lush hips and drag her to the edge. “Come for me again.”

  Nia barely has time to take a breath before I’m on her once more, digging my tongue between her pouting folds and licking my way up her center, finally fucking tasting her.

  Oh, god. If I thought I enjoyed stroking her to orgasm, I can already tell I’m going to love tonguing her to one way, way more.

  Her taste isn’t like anything I’ve ever had in my mouth. In some ways, she reminds me of wine—rich, complex, and intoxicating. But she’s more. Mysterious, remarkable.

  Mine.

  I open my mouth wide, as if I can inhale every succulent part of her at once. I’m fucking greedy.

  Cupping her thighs in my hands, I spread her wider and settle my tongue over her clit. I lap. She wriggles. I suckle. She jolts. I go deeper, demand more. Her reactions are instant, absolute, and perfect.

  The man in me wants to witness every moment of her surrender. This time, I won’t be satisfied by having her in a dark corner while she’s half-covered by whatever she’s wearing because I’m too frantic to be inside her. No, I want the golden sunlight around us as I catalog every dip, swell, valley, nook, and cranny of her body.

  Easing away from her sweet sex, I thumb her clit and stare. Her sleek, dark thighs are slender and smooth. Her flat belly leads to a pair of breasts tipped with swelling nipples I can’t wait to get my mouth on. She’s tossed her head back to give me the perfect view of her arched throat, her graceful arms tossed above her head in abandon. Even her feet are dainty with high arches and bright toenails. The best part, however, is definitely in front of me.

  Her pussy is spread open like a treat. She looks nothing like Becca, but that’s especially true here. My wife was pale, pink, and shrouded in curls. Nia’s sex is devoid of anything that shields her from me. Here, she’s saturated with a darker hue than the rest of her skin. Because she’s aroused? That idea sends my need for her higher.

  I’m fascinated as I spread her open and take another long lick at her center. Beyond her folds, she’s a deep, bold pink—almost red. The contrast is mesmerizing. I want to be right there, sliding my cock into that bright, snug clasp.

  As soon as she comes again.

  I redouble my effort to ramp her up so I can feel her shatter on my tongue. Under my lips, her whole body turns rigid. As I flick her clit, her breaths turn raspy. She keens, her back arching as she grips my hair and pulls me in closer.

  It doesn’t take long before she’s thrashing, lifting to me, and encouraging me to give more.

  “Evan… Evan, damn. So good. You make me feel… Yes!”

  I love that she’s vocal about her pleasure. I especially love that she lets me arouse her however I want.

  Nia is close now. I can see her, smell her, taste the change in her flavor. I dive deeper, thrust two fingers into her empty, clutching opening, and feel her bud surge hard with blood and need against my tongue.

  She’s so ready.

  Her fists grab at my hair as she rocks against my mouth, her breath turning to a heavy exhalation, then a squeal, followed by a throaty growl of satisfaction that lasts for long, electric moments. She holds nothing back, and this climax is twice as long and strong as the first. She jolts and shudders as her nails scratch at my scalp and she drags in more air so she can let out another howling cry. I can actually feel her pulsing. Knowing I can unravel her—and that she won’t hide her reactions from me—is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  Finally, she sighs and goes limp under my hands. “Oh, my gosh. I can’t move.”

  I give her a satisfied smirk as I fish into my pocket for a condom. I planned ahead this time, and I’m beyond ready to lose myself inside her. She watches me with heavy-lidded eyes as I tear open the foil packet. Before I can roll it down my aching length, she takes it from my hand.

  “Want help?” She doesn’t wait for my reply, just sits up and fits the tip over the head.

  It’s the first time she’s truly touched me, and damn if her fingers working the latex down my length isn’t already undoing me.

  “Nia…”

  She smiles at my distress and continues on, slowly destroying my composure with each brush of her hand. By the time I’m sheathed, my chest is rising and falling, lungs audibly working. My entire body is tense. I’m losing my mind.

  Somewhere, I find the sanity to lift her from the table. I ignore her squeal of surprise as I settle her onto my lap, her legs straddling me. Then I press against her opening and work her down every one of m
y desperate inches. By the time I’m balls deep, she’s wide-eyed and shuddering.

  “Evan…” My name is a gasp on her lips as her nails dig into my shoulders.

  “I’ve dreamed of being inside you again. This feels amazing.”

  She gives me a silent, frantic nod before she plants her knees on either side of my hips and begins a torturous rhythm. I brace my hands on her waist and groan at the instant friction.

  Clearly, I wasn’t imagining how good we are together. At all. It’s every bit as amazing as I remember—and more. Holy hell… I can’t thrust into her fast enough. I can’t surge into her deep enough. I can’t suck her sweet nipples hard enough. Being with her is paradise and purgatory. Agony and ecstasy. It’s wrenching and animal and shattering. And I want more.

  Taking her ass in my hands, I rise to my feet and lift her. Automatically, she wraps her arms and legs around me. Our eyes meet. She looks breathless and stunned.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  “What?” She’s clearly dazed.

  Her question morphs into a whimper when I begin to trek across the patio—and gravity propels her farther onto my cock with every step. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her eyes plead as she writhes and moans. As she wordlessly begs me for more.

  I can’t spare the brainpower to respond. I’d far rather put my energy into seizing her mouth than speaking anyway.

  Once I fuse my lips to hers, I have to fight not to come undone. The house is only a dozen steps away, but as torqued up as I feel, it might as well be a thousand. I hope I fucking last until I can get her on her back.

  I’m sweating as I step across the threshold. The cool shade and swirling air from the ceiling fans brush my damp skin. My head is swimming. I don’t know how I’m holding it together. As my lips crush hers, my tongue dominates our kiss. I try to focus on her pleasure, as my hazy memory guides me into the master bedroom.