jasmine-scented, soft, smooth skin, to the juncture of her thighs. He found her wet and hot for him and groaned himself as he cupped her, rubbing his hand over her center, loving how she lifted her hips into his touch.
“Hunter…”
Her breathy sigh filled the room and shuddered inside him. Hunter wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He’d never known such need, such all-consuming desire. And he wanted more.
Reaching quickly to the bedside table, he pulled the drawer open, rummaged one-handed inside it and came out with a condom. Quickly, he tore it open, tossed the foil wrapper and sheathed his aching body. Then he looked down at her, losing himself in her eyes. Moonlight played on her skin, making her flesh seem to shimmer in the pale wash of silver.
“Never get rid of that nightgown,” he ordered, already imagining watching her wear it, knowing what was beneath it, being able to pull it off her, like unwrapping a much wanted present.
“Right. Never.”
He grinned and slid closer, moving his mouth down now, across her rib cage, down to her abdomen to flick his tongue at her belly button. And still his hand worked her core. Fingers stroking, thumb pressing against the heart of her while she quivered and trembled for him like a finely played musical instrument.
He was the master, but she was the treasure. He touched her; she responded.
Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, her fingernails drawing light lines of sensation across his skin until he felt as if each one of her fingertips was a lit match head, singeing him down to the bone.
She carefully maneuvered around the bandage low on his hip and whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” he assured her, pausing for one kiss, then another. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
The concern in her eyes touched him even more deeply than the flash of desire he read there as well.
“Let me show you,” he murmured, and before she could speak, he had shifted position so that he kneeled before her, lifted her hips from the bed and covered her wet, slippery heat with his mouth.
He looked at her then, her green eyes wide with passion and dazzled with pleasure as she rocked into him, instinctively reaching for the release he didn’t plan on giving her just yet. He took her to the edge again and again, working her flesh, driving her higher and higher. Her whimpered pleas became groans, and those became demands and still he wouldn’t let her find satisfaction. He kept her on a razor’s edge, even though he tortured himself as well.
His body hard, aching and unable to wait another minute, Hunter laid her down, covered her body with his and pushed himself deep into her heat. She was tight and hot and-gasping in shock.
“I don’t believe it,” he managed to say on a groan.
A long moment passed as he held himself still inside her. He looked down into her eyes and saw pain melt into pleasure and forced himself to ask, “You’re a
She grabbed at him, her hands exploring his body so thoroughly he quivered under her touch. “Not anymore,” she said.
“You should have told me.” He was poised on the brink. So close to exploding that beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he used every ounce of his self-control.
“Sex now, talk later,” she told him firmly, then lifted her hips, taking him in deeper, farther, so that he had no choice but to lay final claim to her body. “I had no idea,” she whispered, squirming beneath him. “This feels… amazing.”
“It’s about to get better,” he said, damning himself. No way was he going to stop. Not when she so clearly wanted this as badly as he did. Besides, the damage was done. No going back now. But damned if he’d have her first time be so bloody quick. Easing back, he touched her center, where their bodies joined, and she jerked beneath him in surprise.
“That’s it,” he told her, watching as her eyes blurred, her mouth worked and her breath huffed in and out of straining lungs. Her hips moved beneath him and Hunter had to call on all of his discipline just to maintain. But he wanted her to explode first. He wanted to see it, to know that he’d touched her as deeply as she’d touched him.
He touched her, rubbed that one, most sensitive spot, with excruciatingly tender strokes, and when she at last surrendered to the power of her own climax, he took his hand away, gave a few hard, fast thrusts and erupted into a climax so powerful it left him shaking like a broken man.
When he collapsed atop her, he felt her arms come around him, cradling him to her. And wrapped in her tenderness, filled with her scent, Hunter dropped into a dreamless sleep.
“You should have told me,” he accused when the first slice of sunlight slanted into the room.
Margie slowly opened her eyes, stretched languorously and looked up at the man hovering over her. “What?”
“About being a virgin,” he ground out. “You should have told me.
Barely awake, her body still thrumming with the pleasures he’d shown her, Margie smiled. “Would you have made love to me if I had?”
He scowled at her.
“Well, then,” she told him, reaching to slide one hand across his broad, muscled chest, “I’m glad I didn’t.”
Of course she hadn’t told him she was a virgin. It wasn’t exactly something a twenty-nine-year-old woman would be eager to share. Especially since the reason she’d held on to it for so long was that she’d wanted to be in love when she had sex for the first time. Now
But it was enough for now that she knew. Margie was in love, despite the fact that there could be no happy ending in this for her. Her mind knew that she shouldn’t fall, but her heart had taken the leap anyway. And there was no going back now. The deed was done. In more ways than one, she thought with an inner smile.
She could still feel Hunter’s hands on her body, the smooth slide of his flesh joining hers. The taste of his mouth, the hard rush of his breath as he raced to join her in completion. It had all been so much more than she’d ever hoped. And well worth waiting for.
“Damn it, Margie.” He caught her hand in his, holding it still. “Isn’t this situation already complicated enough?”
She pulled her hand from his, pushed herself up onto her elbows and gave a quick glance down at her own body. She was still naked. Never had put her nightgown-that wonderful thing-back on. She felt slightly wicked, lying naked in bed beside a man who oozed sexuality from every pore. And that wicked thought produced a few others, tumbling through her mind with unrestrained glee.
But if she wanted more of what he’d shown her in the darkness last night, it was clear by the look on his face that she was going to have to do some convincing. With her newly discovered feminine power roaring to life inside her though, she told herself
“It doesn’t have to be complicated, Hunter,” she said, arching her back slightly, elevating her breasts with their hard, pink tips, closer to him.
His gaze darkened and his jaw clenched. Good signs.
“What’re you-”
“We’re
Married. To the man of her dreams. The man who would soon be leaving her, she reminded herself. Instantly, she shut down that particular train of thought. She didn’t want to think about him leaving. She wanted to enjoy what she had now.
If there was one thing a foster kid learned early on, it was to live in the present. If you had a nice family, enjoy it while it lasted. If you had a present, treasure it. If you got an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, relish it. Because only God knew when-or if-something good might happen again.
“I’m your wife. You’re my husband. Why shouldn’t we…” She ran her hand down his neck, along his shoulder and down to one flat, male nipple. When she smoothed her fingertips across it, she was surprised-and pleased-to see him flinch at the sensation.
He trapped her hand under his, holding her palm to his chest, and Margie could have sworn she felt heat searing her skin from the contact. She loved touching him. Loved the feel of his hard, warm body under her hands.
