He deserved to know. He’d been nothing but understanding and patient. She owed him her honesty.
“The first time hurt. A lot. And he was a fraction of the size of you. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just worry that I won’t be able to physically accommodate you without it hurting even more. I want you with my every breath, more than I want to breathe, more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little afraid. Because I want it to be perfect with you, Drake. Because you are so very perfect.”
His entire gaze softened and she let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t angered him by bringing up her first lover while in Drake’s bed. His kiss was warm and full of everything Eddie’s had lacked. For several long seconds, he leisurely explored her mouth, lapping gently at her lips, paying particular attention to one corner.
When he drew slightly away, his eyes were serious but full of warmth and sincerity.
“It’s not the size that matters, Angel. What matters is that the man ensures his woman is ready and prepared, and yes, able to take him. And I promise you I will make sure you are all of those things before I ever take that final step. And if at any time I do something that hurts you, then it ends. Immediately. And I expect you to tell me you’re hurting because I will be very pissed off if you think you have to endure pain to please me. Understand?”
She smiled so broadly that her cheeks ached and tears burned her eyelids.
“Now can we get back to the really, really good parts?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said huskily.
He pressed his lips to hers again, making love to her mouth, kissing her long and leisurely, tasting every part of her tongue, absorbing her essence, breathing her air, giving her his. Then he slowly traveled down her body, lavishing kisses, nips, suckling her nipples until she was mindless, her desperation growing by the second.
When he tracked lower still and put one firm hand between her thighs to part them, she sighed long and hard, remembering the night in his office, when he’d given her the mother of all orgasms using only his tongue.
Using his fingers, he traced a line down the seam of her folds and then gently parted them, baring her clit and pussy to his sight—and his seeking tongue.
She moaned deep in her throat. That first time had been urgent, overwhelming, like a bomb going off. This time he lapped, licked, suckled and teased, drawing out and prolonging her pleasure for what seemed an eternity.
He slid a finger inside her vagina, softly stroking the walls, reaching deeper to press gently on her G-spot, something she thought was a myth. Sudden wetness soaked his finger and he issued a growl of satisfaction that vibrated over her clit that he was laving with his tongue.
She was going to orgasm and she wanted him inside her, whether he fit or not. She twisted restlessly, silently begging him to possess her. To sink so far inside her that they were no longer two people. Just one.
“Just a little longer, my angel,” he murmured against her clit. “I want to make damn sure I don’t hurt you.”
She nearly screamed, Hurt me! I don’t care! Just make this ache go away.
He carefully inserted a second finger, stretching her and stroking back and forth until she became even wetter. And then he withdrew his fingers and lowered his mouth to her opening and tongued her entrance, nearly causing her to orgasm on the spot.
He circled the opening, licking and lightly sucking, and then he slid his tongue inward, tasting her from the inside out. She was panting, her entire body tightening in anticipation of something truly extraordinary.
Then his mouth left her and her keen of disappointment was sharp in the room.
His hand calmed her. “Just a moment, Angel. I have to protect you.”
A moment later, he spread her thighs even further and positioned himself on his knees between them, grasping his enormous erection with one hand while he continued to stroke her until he was satisfied she was ready.
“Nice and easy,” he soothed. “There’s no hurry. If you need me to stop, say so, but I’m going to go slow and give you time to adjust.”
She felt the blunt head of his penis press against her entrance and she instinctively arched upward, wanting to take more of him, but he held her hips firmly against the mattress to prevent her from doing so.
But he paused and gazed down at her, fierce possession etched in every facet of his face.
“This is your first time, Angel. This is what counts. It’s your first time with me, and you’re going to get respect and reverence and your gift will be cherished as it should have been. I want you to forget everything that came before me. And as this is your first time with me, it’s also my first time with you. Don’t think that doesn’t mean anything. It means everything.”
Something shifted deeply inside her, her heart going tight and then softening, allowing an opening that had never been there before. That she’d never allowed anyone access to. Emotion overwhelmed her and she was incapable of responding, even if she wanted to. But what could she possibly say on the heels of something as special as what he had just given her?
Himself. Absolution from what she considered the worst mistake of her life. Forgotten. It no longer existed here in his arms. He was right. This was her first time to make love.
He pressed forward slowly. Agonizingly slow. But as he gained more depth, she now understood why he’d gone to such lengths to prepare her. Even as wet as she was, she had no idea how he was going to get all the way in. Several times he paused and remained still and used his thumb to caress her clit, causing her to spasm around his cock.
She wasn’t sure who was groaning, him or her. But his face was a wreath of strain, eyes closed, head thrown back as if he were experiencing the sweetest of pleasures or the most piercing pain. Maybe both. It gave her an immeasurable amount of satisfaction that she, Evangeline Hawthorn, average and nothing special, could bring this beautiful man who could have any woman in the world such exquisite pleasure.
“Hold on to me, Angel,” he said in a strained voice. “Wrap your legs around my waist and tilt your sweet little ass up so I have a better angle.”
Eager to comply with his wishes, she quickly did as he instructed and he pushed forward another inch, eliciting a gasp from both of them.
“Do it, Drake,” she whispered. “You won’t hurt me. You’ll never hurt me. Take me. Make me yours. Please. I need you. So much. I need you. I need this.”
He groaned and seemed to wage an inner war with himself, but her “please,” or maybe that she’d said she’d needed him, seemed to push him over the edge and he surged forward in a forceful lunge that seated him to the balls deep inside her.
Her eyes flew open as she was bombarded with a hundred different overwhelming sensations. And not one of them was pain. She tightened her legs around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders. And she arched upward to take as much of him as she could.
Still, he thrust back and forth in a slow rhythm, sinking as deep as he could before withdrawing until the tip on his head barely breached her opening, and then he would languidly glide back to his fullest depth.
Evangeline had never felt anything more beautiful in her life. And she never would. She knew that as surely as she knew the sun rose every morning. Her orgasm was blooming like a flower unfurling under a ray of sunshine, and she felt Drake tense above her and knew he was as close as she was. The night he’d brought her to orgasm in his office had been a fast climb to an overwhelming explosion that had left her shattered. This was something so much sweeter, yet no less intense or shattering to her senses. This wasn’t merely physical, as it had been then. Her heart was already fast becoming involved, and she was helpless to stop it.
“Together,” she whispered. “I’m so close, Drake. I can’t—won’t—last much longer.”
“Then let go. We’ll go together,” he whispered in her ear.
The world blurred around her but the one thing that remained sharply in focus was Drake’s face above hers, him kissing her with breathless passion and tenderness shining in his eyes. Finally it was too much and she latched on to Drake, wrapping every part of her body around him as she began to shatter into a million pieces, like stars scattered haphazardly across a clear night.
He emitted a hoarse shout and then carefully lowered himself onto her body, his hips still gently pumping into her body until finally they stilled and they lay quiet and breathless in the aftermath of something Evangeline had no words for. For something that defied explanation.
Now she knew what it was supposed to be like, and her only regret was that Drake hadn’t been her first. But no. He’d told her this was the first—he was the first. Eddie was forgotten, never to be remembered again. Now there was only Drake.
“Be right back, my angel,” he whispered. “Need to get rid of the condom, but you don’t move.”
As if she could. She was utterly boneless and couldn’t move if she tried. A few seconds later, Drake crawled into the bed with her and turned them on their sides so they faced each other.
He cupped her cheek and caressed softly. “It won’t always be like this. But you needed it this way this time. The way it should have been your first time instead of that asshole hurting you, taking his pleasure and giving none in return. You should have been handled with care and cherished and made love to as tenderly as a woman ever was. I meant what I said. I want you to consider this your first time and forget the other dickhead ever existed.”
Oh but the man had a way of slipping right past her barriers and setting her world to rights, as crazy as that sounded, considering he’d done nothing but upend her world ever since entering it.
She snuggled into his arms, warm and sated, and couldn’t resist running her hands over the muscled walls of his chest and abdomen. Over his shoulders and well-defined arms that bespoke a strict training regimen. This was no man who spent all his time behind a desk, eating good food without care for his body.
He stroked his hand through her long tresses, pausing every once in a while to press a kiss to her temple, her forehead, her lips and even her eyelids.
As some of the hazy euphoria subsided, his earlier words floated back to her and she cocked her head back so she could look at him in the dim light cast only by one lamp in the room.
“Drake?”
“Yes, Angel?”
“What did you mean?”
He kissed her softly before pulling away. “About what?”
“When you said it wouldn’t always be like this. What did that mean?”
He cupped her jaw, his eyes suddenly serious. “You know what I am, what I want and what I expect.”
She nodded.
“I only meant that our lovemaking won’t always be as it was tonight. I enjoy a variety of methods of sex. Rough, soft, hard, sweet. Bondage, spanking, you at my complete mercy, me in control at all times. I enjoy kink. I like the idea of my woman being available to me at all times. And after tonight, there will be no condoms. When I come, it’ll be inside you, not a damn rubber. I’ll provide you my most recent lab results, and I’ll set up an appointment immediately so you have birth control.”
Her eyes lowered a moment, but he caught her chin and tipped it back upward, question hovering in his gaze.
“What if I disappoint you, Drake?” she asked hesitantly. “You know I’m not experienced. And that I have no experience in your . . . world. Or with your expectations.”
He smiled and kissed her again. “First, I’m going to delight in teaching you everything you need to know to please me, just as I’ll learn what pleases you. And second, as long as you give me what you gave me tonight—your surrender, your sweetness, your complete and utter submission—you will never disappoint me, Angel. You shine, baby, from the inside out, and it’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You won’t disappoint me. It simply isn’t possible. I, on the other hand, will likely disappoint you, frustrate you and anger you on a regular basis. I’m a demanding bastard and my demands will, at times, be extreme. But if you stick with me, Angel, if you stay with me and tough it out, and if you don’t take back the trust you’ve granted me, I guarantee you’re going to enjoy the ride.”
Once again Evangeline awoke, snuggled warmly in Drake’s bed. Only to find it empty. As she’d done the morning before, she reached over to feel any lingering warmth from his body only to find the sheets chilled, though the indention of his body was still present.
She sighed, wondering if the man ever slept. He obviously kept unusual hours, although he had been home at six the previous evening. Was that an exception for her? Or was his being at his club at four in the morning the exception because she’d kept him waiting?
Who knew? But after last night and her agreeing to . . . well, she wasn’t entirely certain what she’d embarked on. Oh, he’d been clear enough on his expectations and the kind of relationship they’d have, but there were still a million questions circling her mind. What sane person wouldn’t be questioning such a circumstance? But then a sane person wouldn’t be in a man’s bed for the second morning in a row barely even knowing the man in question, much less have agreed to submit to him in all things.
Her hand brushed over something hard against the softness of the sumptuous sheets and she frowned, sitting up. She pulled the covers up to cover her breasts and then laughed. Who was she hiding herself from? There was no one here.
She eyed the box with trepidation, recognizing it as being almost identical in shape and size to the gift he’d presented her with the night before. Her hand went automatically to the necklace he’d given her that still hung around her neck.
Her heart sank. Was this another outrageously expensive gift?
There was a note beside it, but she couldn’t bring herself to read it before opening the box that sat there as if taunting her. She made quick work of it this time and opened the jeweler’s box to reveal a stunning pair of diamond solitaire earrings.
Oh. My. God.
All she could do was stare in absolute befuddlement. They were huge. She had no idea what constituted a carat, but these had to be in the multiple-carat class of diamond earrings. She hadn’t seen rings with diamonds this big. And she was supposed to wear them? What if one fell off? What if she lost one?
She could probably buy a house back home with what these earrings cost. It made her faintly ill to be holding something so valuable in her hands, and she hastily set them away and picked up the note.
Jax will come by the apartment at one o’clock to pick you up and bring you to the club. Dress casual, but bring something dressy and sexy to change into later. You’ll spend the day with me and come home with me from the club late tonight. I hope you like the earrings. You outshine them any day of the week, but I want my angel to sparkle. Plan to have lunch and dinner with me.
She sagged. Was he purposely keeping her off balance by throwing a new man at her at every turn, or was he simply introducing her to each of the men he insisted would accompany her any time he wasn’t with her?
She stared at the glittering diamonds and knew now she’d have to wear them or risk angering him by rejecting his gift. She would just pray one didn’t fall off or she didn’t misplace them when she took them off at the end of the evening.
Then when she checked the time, she panicked. Drake had told her Jax, whoever he was, would be there at one. It was ten past one now! She never slept this late. Even after a long shift, she was always up before the others. There were too many things to do, too many responsibilities to take care of.
Unbidden, something Drake had said the previous evening came to mind. He’d wanted her parents’ account number and routing number. She had them, of course, but how was she to explain the sudden influx of money into their account? Never once had she lied to her mother, but she was sorely tempted to tell her something outlandish like she’d won the lottery or something equally absurd.
She was well on her way to a full-scale panic attack when she heard a voice in the distance.
“Yo, Evangeline. Jax here. Drake wanted me to pick you up at one. You need to get a move on. The boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
She jumped and nearly shrieked but clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent sound from escaping. Her heart was racing from the unexpected fright. And then she got pissed. She was really tired of hearing that Drake didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“You tell Drake that he’ll just have to get over it,” Evangeline yelled crossly. “I’ll be ready when I’m ready and not before.”
A deep male chuckle was her only response.
Despite her bravado, she scrambled out of bed, turning in circles as she tried to figure out what to do first. Shower. Right. Then she’d figure out what to wear. She would have to figure out how to tackle the issue of her parents when she got to the club because she didn’t have time for that kind of a phone call right now.
She was in and out in five minutes, hastily combing through her wet hair and towel-drying the strands as much as possible. Then she headed for the closet where all her things had been put.
Casual. Okay, she could do casual. Casual she was well acquainted with. It was the dressy part that she was clueless about. What exactly did Drake consider dressy?
She chose a pair of outrageously expensive but oh-so-very-comfortable jeans that made her sigh when she pulled them on. Then she grabbed one of the lacy push-up bras she’d chosen and turned her attention to what top she should wear.
The last couple of days had been cooler, though summer hadn’t quite given way to fall yet, and she remembered that Drake’s office felt like a meat locker, so she picked a short-sleeved cashmere sweater with a plunging neckline with folds that discreetly covered everything it should.
As for the shoes, she went straight for the sparkly pair of flats that she simply hadn’t been able to resist.
And then remembering his directive, she hurried into the bedroom and gingerly unfastened the earrings from the holder in the box and slid them into her ears. Nervously, she went to the mirror to check her appearance and stood staring back at a woman she didn’t recognize. Her hair was disheveled and her lips were still faintly swollen from Drake’s passionate kisses. Most notably, there was a glow to her cheeks and to her eyes that suggested a well-satisfied woman. She looked almost . . . pretty. Then she chastised herself for already getting caught up in this make-believe world she’d been transported to and reminded herself that she was still the same average Evangeline. More expensive clothing and jewelry didn’t miraculously transform her into something she wasn’t, and it was dangerous to get caught up in the fantasy, even if for the barest of moments. It was thoughts like these that would set her up for a horrendous reality check and a fall right back into the world she really belonged in.
Knowing she had limited time, she only applied the bare minimum makeup and a sheer lip gloss and then finished with a few swipes of mascara to highlight what she admitted was her one redeeming quality. Her eyes.
But then dread took hold, because she still had to figure out what to bring to change into later. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself or worse, embarrass Drake. Short of calling him and asking him exactly what he wanted her to wear, her only other option was . . . Jax.
She groaned but what the heck. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already made a fool of herself in front of every other one of his men. No reason for Jax to be excluded. He’d probably already heard about her anyway and was cursing the fact he’d drawn the short straw today. Or maybe he’d volunteered, wanting to see the train wreck in person.
Nervously she walked out of the bedroom, peeking toward the living room to see a large man sprawled across Drake’s couch, remote in hand, a drink in the other.
“Um, Mr. Jax?” she asked cautiously.
Then he turned and she took an instinctive step back. Yes, all of Drake’s men were hot badasses who didn’t smile and were hardheaded, but this guy was huge! He had tattoo sleeves covering the length of both arms, and the design continued up around his neck, making her wonder if his entire upper torso was one giant work of art. He wore at least three earrings in each ear and his hair was long and unruly in a total “I don’t give a fuck” kind of way.
But his eyes. Whoa. His hair was black as a raven’s wing, but his eyes were crystalline blue. All she could do was stare mutely as he stared back, obviously waiting to hear what she was going to ask. For that matter, what had she been going to ask?
Then he smiled, and as with the others, that smile transformed him from a man not to be fucked with to a man who would stop traffic with only that smile. He stood and walked slowly toward her, almost as if he sensed she might run back into the bedroom and shut the door.
“Just Jax. And you must be Evangeline, unless Drake has two gorgeous blue-eyed blondes holed up in his apartment,” he said with a flirtatious grin. “Was there a problem? Do you need something?”
His voice had softened and he stopped several feet away from her, whether by coincidence or out of deference to her obvious nervousness.
“Um, yes. I mean no.” She groaned and smacked her forehead.
Jax laughed. “Which is it?”
“Yes, I’m Evangeline, and no, he doesn’t have two women in this apartment. At least he better not.” She muttered the last under her breath but knew he’d heard when Jax’s lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with amusement.
“They weren’t wrong about you,” Jax said, cocking his head sideways, as though studying her.
Her gaze narrowed. “Who? What are you talking about?” Damn it, she knew she’d been set up as today’s amusement for the new guy.
He just grinned. “What can I do for you, Miss Evangeline?”
Then she remembered the whole reason she’d come in search of Jax and wanted to die of embarrassment. She closed her eyes, her face on fire. How did she stand a chance of surviving a single day in Drake’s world much less a significant length of time?
Jax softened at the sight of the gorgeous, sweet woman staring at him in obvious distress. Damn, but the others had been right. Her agitation made him want to do whatever had to be done to correct the matter. He’d laughed at Thane, Maddox and Justice when they’d extolled her virtues and told him the impossible. That she was the real deal. Too sweet and innocent for her own good but a tigress when it came to defending people she felt were wronged.
“Evangeline, what’s wrong?” he asked gently. “What can I do to help?”
Oh shit. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. If there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was a crying woman.
Instead of responding, she thrust a piece of paper at him. Puzzled, he opened it and read Drake’s distinctive scrawl and then looked back up at Evangeline, who