Chapter Seventy Two

The night was quiet and heavy, a change was expected tomorrow that would liven things up weather-wise. But, for now, the warm night air was eerily silent as Timothy stretched his legs outside under the moon before heading upstairs. He heard it then, no more than a burble, a swish of water and the hint of a sigh that had him turning rock-hard even before he turned towards the pool.

Surely not?

He heard a wet slap and saw Chloe in the pool, her bare arms pearlescent under the light of the moon, and fantasy collided with reality. And he didn’t care that he’d decided it would be better to take things slow. He didn't even know how he'd managed to stay for days without making love to her. He didn’t care because there was no way he could turn away. Because, he thought, as the top button came undone, and the next followed, this wasn’t taking things too fast or slow. This was about wanting her.

Pure unadulterated need. And it was killing him.

Chloe heard his footsteps before the husky, deep, "Hot night, mind if I join you?"

She swallowed. His shirt was already undone, a column of superb masculine flesh exposed to her gaze from his neck to his waist. Skin that her fingers ached to touch. "It’s your pool," she managed to say. "Although you’re not exactly dressed for it."

"Easy fix," he said, his hands at his belt as he kicked off his shoes.

She turned her head away, wanting to look but afraid to, wondering just what he intended swimming in. She heard a splash, felt the surge of water from his dive and turned to see him powering down the pool, long strokes eating up the length until he disappeared on a roll and came surging back towards her.

And then he was there beside her, water flying from his glorious head in beads that spun away like jewels in the silver of the moon.

"Couldn’t sleep?" he asked her, and she shook her head. His eyes had her full attention, night sky meeting the night sky, with just the glint of the moon to light them. They should be cold, she thought idly, but instead they were charged with heat and she wondered—dared to hope—that he might be fighting his own internal battle with temperature control.

He lifted a hand to her face, those dark eyes focused and intent, and her breath hitched as he pushed away a strand of wet hair from her face.

His touch triggered sparks under her skin that traveled the entire length of her, a chain reaction that tugged at her nipples and sent a pulsing awareness between her thighs.

"I meant to thank you," he said, "for agreeing to come here with me, and being willing to try to make us work"

Breathless, she struggled to find the words to answer. "You don't have to thank me for that. I'm glad I came and we're both willing to make us work. I want to"

His eyes gleamed, and his hand curled around her neck, subtly but deliberately drawing her closer. "I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about you." he said, his lips agonizingly close to her mouth.

"I was thinking about you too"

"Really?" he asked, his lips brushing her cheek, tickling her eyelashes, kissing the tip of her nose as he drew her against him length to length, "Well, now that I'm here, what do you want to do with me?"

Her brain was marshmallow under his slow sensual onslaught and right now, pressed up against his slick, tightly wound body, their legs tangling underwater and his hand weaving through her hair, she couldn't think of the right words to tell him how she felt. His teeth nipped an ear lobe and she gasped, feeling the tie at her neck release and his hand at her breast, rolling one slippery, hard nipple between his fingers. Oh, God, how was she supposed to think?

"What will you do if I tell you?" she asked, deciding to follow up with his teasing.

"I will let you do whatever you want."

His mouth at her throat, the thick column of his erection nudging her belly, answering her question in graphic, carnal detail.

"You're so fucking beautiful" he gasped, his mouth over her nipple, his tongue working at the pebbled peak, driving her wild with need. He tugged at her bikini bottoms. She responded by letting him push them down and curling her legs around him, opening himself for him.

His mouth was finally on hers, finally tearing her soul out again in a gut-wrenching kiss that left her almost shattered and ended only with the need to breathe. She gasped when he surged into her, hard and fast and deep and she took his glorious length to her heart, crying out with the effort.

"Believe me, baby" he told her through gritted teeth as he slowly withdrew, "you’re perfect. So beautiful and so fucking perfect"

Clasping her hips, he rocked out, then thrust back, filling her to the hilt this time. He continued to move, slow and careful at first, digging deep to work her G-spot. He established a brutal rhythm, clenched his teeth to ignore the orgasm licking at the base of his spine. Desperate to hold on, determined to make her shatter first. She cried out, the vicious pulse of her climax triggering his own unstoppable release. She came in a blaze of shooting stars—wave after endless wave of stars that splintered and shattered with his shuddering climax—and a solitary tear escaped from her eye. His seed exploded into her womb as he soared over the high wide ledge and let himself fall.

Exhausted and sated, he held onto her, drenched in a pleasure so intense, so fierce, he was afraid he might never be able to get enough of it.

You’re perfect, he’d told her. You’re perfect.

Nobody had ever said those words to her. But he’d said those words. He’d said them as if he believed them and he’d made her believe them. And her heart hoped and prayed that he did.

"Thought you wanted to take things slow" Chloe said when they finally caught their breaths and could finally speak.

"Yeah I did" Timothy replied, "But screw that"

"You're smiling" Chloe said, even if she was too.

"Yeah I am," said Timothy. "That's because I'm happy"