Saying nothing, he went to sit on the bed beside her then pulled her into his arms.
Immediately, she sank into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She seemed drained, too exhausted to speak, and he understood. Sometimes emotional trauma was more draining than the physical. Right now what Melanie needed was comfort and reassurance. Healing.
Sloane leaned down to kiss the top of her head and then he lifted his hand to softly stroke her hair. When she sighed and tucked in closer he tilted her face toward his and gave her a kiss that was gentle but firm, his small way of giving her the reassurance he knew she needed.
She clung to him like she would never let go. It was the emotions – the uncertainty, the sadness – coming to the surface. Right then she was at her most vulnerable.
Seeking to comfort her he leaned down, pressing her into the pillows, deepening the kiss when she moaned. When he finally released her lips and pulled away she reached for him, so he kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her collarbone and when she shivered he smiled and went lower still. He slid her top off and kissed her shoulders then his lips tickled her upper arms and the soft hollow by her elbow and she shifted in the bed, seeming anxious for his attention elsewhere.
He obliged. He spent the next few minutes worshiping her br**sts, cupping the mini-globes in his big hands, catching the ni**les between his teeth and nibbling till she sucked in her breath and reached up to tug at his shirt.
Sloane needed no further encouragement. In quick time his clothes were gone and he was pulling Melanie’s jeans down her legs. Both na**d now, he climbed back into the bed but this time he lay on his back and pulled her on top of him. “Ride me,” he whispered. “Tonight, you’re in control.”
For a moment she looked nervous but when he made no move to help she bit her lip then straddled his h*ps and planted her hands in the middle of his chest. She positioned herself over him then slowly, gingerly, she began to descend.
He could see the uncertainty on her face, the fear that this would hurt. Immediately, he reached up and began to tickle her ni**les and her nostrils flared as the thrill ran through her. Then she drew in her breath and sank down on his rigid shaft.
Melanie learned to ride Sloane that night, to take full control as she set the pace for their lovemaking. And when he could hold it no more and shot his seed deep inside her she rode faster, bucking wildly, and then she screamed her orgasm out loud as her vagina walls convulsed around him.
She collapsed on top of him and he let her lie there, panting, struggling to catch her breath. Gradually her breathing slowed and when he began to stroke her back she settled more comfortably on his chest with a groan of satisfaction.
“Was it good for you?” he asked, his hand never ceasing from its caress. “Not sore?”
“It was perfect,” she said on a sigh. “I can’t believe I never tried that before.”
He chuckled, pleased that she was contented, and slid over to his side so she could nestle into him and drift off to sleep. And as Melanie slept, Sloane stroked her arm and stared, unseeing, up at the ceiling. He may have put some of her fears to rest but he had some fears of his own…
…chief of which was what the hell would Zena be coming with next?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Oh, great. Just what she needed. She was already in a bad mood after seeing Sloane’s ex the evening before and now she’d gotten up, ready to face the work day, only to realize that her friend had arrived. Yes, the same unwelcome guest who showed up every single month without fail.
But this month she’d thought things would be different. She was a married woman now, one who’d been actively trying to get pregnant. Melanie did a quick rewind in her mind. She’d been married to Sloane a month now and they’d made love at least a dozen times. Where the heck was her baby? After so many tries, shouldn’t she be good and pregnant by now?
Apparently, her body hadn’t gotten the memo. It was chugging along as per usual, totally forgetting the plan to pause along the way so she could start a family. Darn!
Now she would have to make extra effort in the coming months. Not that Sloane would mind, but it wasn’t like she had lots of time to play with. She was already thirty-four and she wanted to have her baby before she hit the ripe and troublesome age of thirty-five.
Still fuming twenty minutes later she slammed out of the house and into her car and made her way to the office. And as if her day hadn’t started off badly enough, it decided to get worse. Ken Ferguson and his team were waiting for her.
She glared at her financial controller. “You could at least have waited till I settled down before camping out in my office.”
Ken shook his head. “This is serious, Melanie. It can’t wait.”
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. She knew she wouldn’t like what was coming. “Give me ten minutes.” She glanced over at the two men and the woman who had accompanied Ken. “Meet me in conference room C. I’ll be there shortly.”
She watched them gather up their papers and laptop computers and as they exited her office she drew in a long and steadying breath. She needed these few minutes alone to focus.
As CEO she’d taken her father’s multimillion dollar company to a billion-dollar enterprise and although there’d been some obstacles along the way she’d overcome them all eventually. Lady Luck had been on her side all these years but now it looked like the lovely lady was planning on throwing her overboard. Her latest acquisition had been a disaster, she realized, but how bad was it, really? She tightened her lips. From the look on the faces of the finance team things must be really bad.
And to think she’d bought the new company specifically for the purpose of revitalizing her existing one. The fact was, Parker Broadcasting had not achieved growth forecast in the past two years and needed an infusion of new technology, new ideas. And then her COO told her about Rapid Films. New technology to the rescue. Or so she’d thought. Instead, she’d added another woe to her already long list.
She picked up the phone. “Tamara, can you arrange for coffee for conference room C, please?” With what she was about to face, Melanie had a feeling she’d need that plus a shot of gin.