What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [135]
Finally, she reached the end of the winding path she’d taken across the island’s interior to find an arched opening cutting through a tall hedge of bougainvillea, a sign labeling it as the entry to the Garden of Eden. Taking a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for whatever she was about to discover, she stepped inside.
Only . . . nothing could have prepared her.
She found herself on the edge of a pristine island meadow flourishing with lush flowers and enormous fruit trees. Colorful birds played among their branches, flying from one to another. Nearby lay a gorgeous natural island pool, a sizable waterfall tumbling into it from the hillier land just beyond—and although the space felt enclosed and private, a soft breeze wafted through the air, cooling her after her long walk. She’d never been anywhere that, indeed, felt closer to paradise.
Yet it was only when her gaze traveled lower that what she saw stole her breath. In the shade of a large banyan tree, Brent lay naked and gloriously erect on a brass bed festooned with flowering vines and draped in white satin sheets. The moment her eyes met his, violins began to play.
And tears came to Jenna’s eyes.
Brent had finally given her what she’d wanted all along—satin sheets and violins. But it meant so much more now than it could have then.
The logical, self-protecting part of her wanted to stand strong—to make him find a way to fix what had happened yesterday, or to at least admit he was wrong.
But the Jenna she’d discovered here at the Hotel Erotique, the Jenna who loved sex and got weak in the knees every time she saw Brent, the Jenna who couldn’t resist romance . . . simply went to him.
“Hey,” he said, soft and low, wearing a small, sexy smile as she approached the bed. The only other sounds were the distant waterfall and the soft violins playing . . . somewhere.
“Hi,” she gently replied.
He looked briefly like he might apologize to her or say something profound, but she could almost feel him thinking the same thing she was—that maybe none of that mattered right now in this moment that felt truly magical. Finally, he simply rasped, “Come to me, Jenna.”
She responded by removing her top over her head to reveal a lacy yellow bra underneath, then let her skirt fall to the grass, uncovering matching panties. Brent growled at the sight of her as she approached the bed.
Things could have gone fast then, yet they turned . . . painstakingly slow. Brent took his time, touching her face, kissing her lips, letting his hands glide over her body. Every caress skimmed across her skin like velvet.
She touched him, too, just as slowly, exploring his body more thoroughly than ever before. She slid her palms across his broad shoulders, the firm muscles of his arms. She curled her fingernails into the smattering of dark hair on his chest. She kissed him there—over and over—tasting the salt on his skin. They were no Adam and Eve, and this was far from being original sin—and yet, as they touched each other, it felt . . . new.
When Brent finally peeled away her bra and began to rain kisses onto her breasts, she basked in the soft pleasure. And as he kissed his way tenderly down her stomach, she ached for him in her very soul.
Watching Brent draw down her panties as violins played, Jenna tossed her head back in abandon, soaking up the island breeze, luxuriating in the moment. Then she met Brent’s dark gaze and parted her legs for him.
He kissed his way slowly up her inner thigh, and by the time he lowered his mouth gently to her clit, she thought she’d die from anticipation. She let out a moan, lifting, offering herself to him.
Brent met her gaze as he licked deeply into her, wanting to taste her, wanting to make her feel his tongue more intensely than ever. For him, this wasn’t fucking—it was making love. And maybe it had been that way for a while now with Jenna, but suddenly he understood.
He understood that she’d been right about why he’d been so committed to freeing her this past week. He’d wanted to save her from what he’d never been