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  His eyes bulge and his mouth works silently for a few seconds before his graveled voice breaks through. “God Almighty, woman. You can see?”

  I nod, grinning from ear to ear. “My vision came back after Landon broke in here, startled me awake and unwittingly confessed to being my attacker. His revelation was the key to unlocking my brain. Once my memory of that horrible night came back, so did my sight.”

  He pulls me in close for a bear hug. Resting his chin on top of my head, he says, “Your doctor’s diagnosis of hysterical blindness was correct, and I couldn’t be happier that he was right.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I overheard you telling your father about it when he summoned me to the mansion. Neither of you noticed me when I was standing in the doorway to your bedroom. I’m afraid I eavesdropped for a few minutes before making my presence known.”

  I step back and look up at his handsome face. “As I recall, you were defending King Leif to me. Saying he was behaving like a concerned parent.”

  “That’s before I knew what he was really like. Now I know he and your mother are a real piece of work. I’m sorry they’re such shitheads.”

  “Me, too. But I don’t have to give them a second thought anymore. I’m happy now because I have you. And I can’t wait to start our life together.”

  “I can’t wait either, but before we do anything else, I need to call an ambulance and have this dirt bag hauled out of our living room.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Gavin Winslow

  AFTER THE PARAMEDICS WHEEL Landon out of the living room, Aviana disappears upstairs to commence her preparations for our night of passion. One I have immense reservations about. I’m not sure what she has planned, but I’m positive I’m going to cause her grief and disappoint her to the point of despair. I’ve tried to tell her my equipment is definitely going to fail, but no matter how hard I try to make her understand the depth of my dysfunction, she tells me she has a solution.

  Feeling more nervous than a cat on a hot tin roof, I decide to take a walk. My feet involuntarily carry me across the bridge to my grandmother’s cottage. She called the instant she heard the sirens earlier. I told her everything was fine and gave her a brief and hurried summary of the situation. But I feel like my presence would offer her a little more assurance. I don’t ever want her to worry about anything. After all, she has been the most important person in my life until Aviana. And I will continue to hold her dear until the day she dies.

  I step onto the pathway leading to her front porch and find her sitting there to the right of the screen door in her favorite rocking chair. Her eyes are closed, and she isn’t wearing her sunglasses. Despite the milky white of her corneas, she never covers them after sundown. She says bearing her eyes to the sky makes her feel more connected to the beauty of her beloved sunsets.

  I quietly make my way to the porch swing adjacent to her and sit down. I don’t say anything in case she’s fallen asleep.

  As my thoughts are drifting to Aviana and the night ahead of us, Grandmother’s eyelids pop open and she says, “Tell me all about this woman who has brought so much excitement and drama into your life.”

  Her bluntness makes me smile. “Aviana is sweet and wise beyond her years. She’s sassy and spunky and smart.”

  “Does she have a lot of curves, a nice rack and a firm ass?”

  I bust out laughing. “She definitely does. How did you know?”

  “I figured the one who’d finally steal your heart would have to look like the heroines you write about. I don’t think you could have found a more perfect match if you had created her yourself.”

  My grandmother has read the Braille versions of all my work, and her intuitiveness on the subject of my female characters is uncanny. Her insight strikes a chord deep inside me. Of course, I didn’t create Aviana. She is very much real, but the women in my romance novels are exactly like her. It’s no wonder she thought my books were love letters written directly from my heart to hers. She felt that way because it’s true. I wasn’t aware of it until right now, but Aviana Leif is the curvy vixen I have always dreamed of. The goddess I have longed for. The hottie I have been literarily courting all these years.

  I lean forward and place my hand over my grandmother’s—the one she has resting atop her cane. Her skin is papery thin and almost translucent. I can see the bluish-green tint of her veins bulging with her life’s blood beneath the surface. Knowing I can confide anything in her, I say, “The woman who has stolen my heart terrifies me.”

  “Why? She’s not an axe murderer, is she?”

  I laugh heartily. “No, she’s much worse than that.”

  “What could be worse?”

  “A sweet, trusting soul who believes I can be the man she needs.”

  “You can be everything to her, Gavin. All you have to do is let go of the old, crippling notions you adopted after the death of your mother.”

  “No offense, Grandmother, but you can’t possibly understand what you’re asking of me.”

  She harrumphs. “Can’t I? Have you forgotten I was the one who took you in? The one who lay awake at night listening to you cry?”

  “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You would have done better if your grandpa hadn’t run out on me before you were born. After your father went to prison, you needed a male presence in your life, and I couldn’t give you one.”

  I frown in confusion. “What are you talking about? You did a wonderful job raising me.”

  “I did my best for sure, but I wish I had found the courage to help you with the more personal aspects of a young man’s life.”

  I pat her hand lightly. “If you’re referring to the whole birds and bees thing, I had that talk with my father a few months before our lives went to hell. He told me about sex, and then I saw it firsthand that terrible night.”

  “I know. I just wish I could have broached the subject of masturbation with you. But after you had been so horribly affected by your mother’s demise, I was afraid of traumatizing you further.”

  I chuckle uncomfortably. “Well, you’re doing a damn fine job of traumatizing me right now! Where are you going with all of this? I know you well enough to know you have a point to make.”

  “The point is, you didn’t behave like a normal teenage boy in the throes of puberty. I remember what your father—my son—was like at that age. He stayed in the shower jacking off until he ran out all the hot water. I would find his socks dried stiff with his semen where he had beat his meat inside them. You never did those things, Gavin.”

  I shrug, knowing she can feel the motion through her hand. “I couldn’t.”

  “I suspected as much, but a grandmother can’t very well command her grandson to choke the chicken, can she?”

  “No.”

  “No is right, but I could have gotten you some counseling. You’re broken because I wasn’t brave enough to broach the subject with you.”

  “That’s not true. I’m broken because I saw my father behaving like an out-of-control bastard who killed my mother right before my eyes. All the sexual hang-ups I have can be laid at his feet. You did nothing wrong. None of my issues are your fault. I have only love and gratitude for you in my heart.”

  She tugs on my arm, pulling me down to eye level. “You were a good boy who has grown into a good man. One who deserves to be happy and to have a healthy sex life. I want you to promise me something, Gavin.”

  “Anything.”

  “Let Aviana show you the way. She can help you overcome every obstacle if you’ll let her. It’s time for you to trust yourself. For you to trust her and let her trust you. Will you try to do that?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. Now get on back home and take care of your woman. She needs you every bit as much as you need her. And when you’ve loved her properly, bring her around for a visit. I’d very much like to meet her.”

  “I’ll do that. Do you need anything befo
re I go?”

  “Not a thing. I’ve got sparkling water to slake my thirst and the chirp of the crickets to keep me company.”

  I bend down, give her a hug and say, “Goodnight, Grandmother. Thank you for everything.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aviana Leif

  IT’S ALL I CAN do to sit patiently in the middle of our king-size, wrought-iron bed and wait for Gavin. Earlier, when I told him I was going to take a shower and get things ready for our lovemaking, the tension was visibly etched on his sexy-as-sin face. I wasn’t surprised when he went for a walk. I just wish he would hurry back. I could call him on his cell phone, but I would rather he come upstairs of his own accord and not at my urging. In order for him to get over this mental hurdle, he needs to be ready to face his fears without any prodding from me.

  I’m about to give up on him, crawl under the covers and turn off the light when he steps into the room. Just like me, he is buck naked. A part of me would have enjoyed undressing him, but I’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that later. Right now, I’m more than ready to get something started.

  I watch him hesitantly make his way over to the bed. His body gives buff a new meaning. He is the most beautifully-sculpted man I’ve ever seen. With my lack of experience, all of my eye candy came courtesy of the internet, but Gavin makes even the hottest male models and movie stars look homely. Sadly, he also looks more like a man going to the gallows than a man who’s about to be get laid by a more-than-willing woman.

  When he sits down on the edge of the mattress, he gives me a small smile and says, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Aviana. But before I touch you, I need you to know something, baby.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m so in love with you it scares me. I can’t breathe at the thought of ever losing you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I might if I can’t man-up and fuck you like you want and need to be fucked.”

  I caress his cheek and say, “Darling, you’re the one getting fucked tonight. All you have to do is lie back and let me take care of the rest. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he says, looking past me to the vertical iron rungs of the headboard. When he sees the ropes I’ve attached on either side of his pillow, he gives me a wary, rabbit-ready-to-run look.

  “Aviana, what are those for?”

  I smile and patiently proceed to explain. I start by saying, “Getting my sight back was the greatest gift I have ever received. But the best thing about being blind was, it made me a much better listener. And when you and I discussed your sexual dysfunction, what I heard you say was this: you’re not sure if you can trust me to speak up if you take things too far. You also don’t trust yourself to stop even if I do speak up. You are terrified of hurting me, and even more so of losing control. Does that about sum it up?”

  “You have hit the proverbial nail on the head, but none of that explains the ropes.”

  “They’re for binding your wrists, Gavin.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard me. Bondage is the solution to all of your sexual issues.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

  I sigh in exasperation. “Well, you better because this is a perfect, fool-proof plan. If you are tied up, you can’t do the thing that scares you most. You can’t choke me like your father did your mother. You can’t lose control because you won’t have any. I’ll be the one in charge. Now do you understand?”

  “I understand the logic. It’s true; in such a scenario, I couldn’t harm you, but I also can’t caress you. Don’t you want my hands on you, touching your breasts, pussy, ass and everything in between?”

  “Sure I do, and you will once you gain the confidence you need to defeat the demons in your head. Will you please trust me on this and give it a try?”

  “Yes,” he says, moving to the center of the mattress. With an almost tortured look of what I believe to be a raging war of inner conflict, he lies back and grabs hold of the iron bars. His fingers firmly grip them as I scoot up beside him and secure his wrists with a sailor’s knot. When I pull on the restraints to check for snugness, his cock stiffens and powerfully juts above the columns of his muscular thighs.

  He doesn’t even acknowledge his erection as his eyes lock onto mine. The heat of his gaze sends a sea of molten lava through my veins, searing my blood. His expression is intense and downright predatory. Even though I’m hovering above him, I feel breathless beneath the weight of his stare. I’m beginning to see why he was afraid of losing control. I’ve never been the focus of such passion before. His desire is almost tangible. Like a blazing inferno with flames of need licking from the pupils of his emerald-green eyes.

  The mere thought of him wanting me so much is enough to send a surge of moisture to my already wet and tingling pussy. Slowly straddling his thighs, I grip his shaft with both hands. Yes, it’s that long and thick. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it echoing in my ears as I gently stroke him up and down. I can feel the pulsing in his prick as the engorgement-sustaining blood bulges the veins mapping his manhood.

  I’m fascinated by his size and strength. Nervously, I say, “Is it even possible for this thing to fit inside me?”

  His expression seems to be pained now as he grips the vertical rungs even harder. His breath rushes out on a curse. “Damn it, woman. It’ll fit.” His pecs pone up even higher while the sinewy muscles of his forearms strain from the hold he has on the headboard. He squeezes his eyes shut and growls, “Great God in heaven, you’re tormenting the hell out of me here.”

  “Does that mean you’re ready for me to sit on you, Mr. Winslow?” I ask in a sultry voice meant to tempt and tease him even more.

  His eyelids pop open, and the look he gives me says he is about two seconds away from breaking through those ropes. “Aviana Leif, get on my cock now before I lose my fucking mind.”

  “I’m sorry, Gavin, but you’re not the one in control here. I am,” I say, bending forward and placing a soft kiss on the helmeted-head of his dick.

  His thigh muscles flex furiously beneath me. He curses again through gritted teeth as I rise to my knees and carefully position the pre-cum-glistening tip of his penis at my entrance.

  Slowly, I lower myself onto him. Pausing with each passing inch to allow my feminine sheath time to adjust around him. He said it would fit, but he never said it would feel like I was impaling myself onto a steel pole. He didn’t warn me about how much he would stretch me or how painfully-full I would feel. When he’s finally all the way inside me, I squeeze my vaginal muscles around him.

  The sound of his guttural groan vibrates through me as I say, “You’re a virgin no more, Mr. Winslow. Does being in a woman feel as good as you thought it would?”

  “Better. My imagination didn’t do this one bit of justice. Being inside you is like heaven on earth, baby.”

  I smile and begin sensuously rolling my hips to test the feel of him sliding against the tight, innermost walls of my womanhood. The earlier discomfort is all gone now. In its place is nothing but the easy glide of pure pleasure.

  Leaning forward, I press my lips to his chest. His entire body trembles beneath me. When I dart my tongue out to taste his skin, he jerks hard against the ropes. His voice is husky with desire. “Fuck me like you mean it, Aviana.”

  With my palms pressed against his pecs, I lift my hips and rock back and forth, riding his cock in a slow, steady rhythm that sends little shocks of electricity through my center. The sound of his moans and my panting intermingle. All the energy in the universe seems to be culminating where our bodies are blissfully joined together.

  His grunts are animalistic, turning my insides to a quivering mass of want. “Ride me, baby. Faster. Harder.”

  I give him everything I have, seductively circling my hips, lifting them high then slamming back down hard. My boobs bounce, and the bed creaks with my efforts. When I take the entire length of him and grind my pubic bone against his, my clit cries out for more. Only I’
m not sure how to get it.

  Gavin raises his head and says, “God, you look so fucking beautiful. I need to taste you, baby. Give me your mouth.”

  I slide up the rock-hard planes of his abdomen, loving the feel of his hairy chest brushing against my nipples. When our lips meet, his hips thrusts upward, driving his dick into me at a breathtaking angle. I gasp as he bites my bottom lip before deepening the kiss and seductively sliding his tongue against mine.

  When we come up for air, I whisper against his slightly-parted mouth, “I’ve never been kissed like that before. Do it again.”

  He takes dominion over my mouth, making me his with a ferocity and passion so potent it brings about waves of dizziness. I respond by frantically working my pussy up and down his shaft. I’m desperately reaching for something that I can’t quiet put my finger on. As if he knows I’m struggling, Gavin breaks the kiss. His gorgeous green eyes search my face as he asks, “What do you need, baby?”

  “I don’t know. I—I really want to come, but I can’t.”

  The genuine shock on his face makes me feel embarrassed. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  I still my hips, holding his hardness deep inside me. “I mean, I’ve never had an orgasm,” I say, blushing from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. “I don’t know how to get one.”

  He smiles sweetly. “Have you ever tried touching yourself, specifically your clitoris?”

  I nod. “I did it once, but it never felt the way you described it in your books. I didn’t have the intense, toe-curling sensations you said your heroines had.”

  “Was it pleasurable at all?”

  “It was nice but nowhere near mind-blowing. I don’t think I was doing it right.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gavin Winslow

  THIS GODDESS SITTING ON my cock is nothing short of an angel. In ten minutes time, she has managed to do what six therapists couldn’t do in ten years. She has healed me, giving me the gift of fucking without fear. By binding me, she has set me free. Now, with the fire of desire burning brightly in her big brown eyes, she tells me she has never had an orgasm. Maybe I didn’t get to be the first man to have sexual intercourse with her but, by God, I’ll be the first and last to make her come.