“This time I want to make love to you—a one-way deal.”
His eyes narrowed, the pleasure in them dimming slightly. “It can be mutual.”
“But I don’t want it to be.” She put her hands out, palms up. “Please, Daniel. Touching you is something I want to do…very, very, very much…but I’m not comfortable with the other.”
Concern creased his brow. “If you aren’t comfortable…”
“I didn’t mean physically. I meant mentally.”
“Oh.” He smiled the pirate’s smile she loved so much. “I could make you comfortable.”
If any man could, it would be him, but she didn’t want to and said so. “I want to show you what I dreamed about. Making love with you the first time outstripped every fantasy I’d ever had, and I want to see if it will be the same like this.”
“So, this thing you want to do to me is just a science experiment?”
She laughed, her insides liquefying at his expression. “No. A very special experience, not an experiment, and your body is making emphatic statements about what it wants, don’t you think?”
He looked down at the towel and back at her. “What you want to do to me is every man’s fantasy, and the fact that it’s you wanting to do it makes it mine, but—”
“I think we’ve already established this is something I want, so there should be no barrier to letting me live out my own fantasy,” she said, cutting in before he could voice any more objections.
He dropped the towel and stood in a position of complete openness to her. “Whatever you want.”
For several seconds, all she wanted to do was look. “You are a magnificent example of the male species.” Her throat was dry from excitement, and the words came out husky and inviting.
He was so gorgeous. Even the scars on his body from his years of professional soldiering made him more sexy, giving him a dangerous air that lured women of all types, and he wanted her.
“You could have any woman.”
“I want only one.”
She barely bit back words of love as his answer penetrated her to the depths of her soul.
“Lie down on the bed,” she croaked.
He did, his muscles rippling with movement and his sex jutting out from his body. His maleness, its very difference from her femaleness, fascinated her. He was hard steel sheathed in velvet, and she needed to feel the strength of his erection. She reached out to run a caressing hand down its length.
His breath hitched, and his hips arched toward her hand. “Sweetheart…”
“You feel so different from me, not like what I expected a man to feel like.”
“What did you expect?” he asked, his expression taut as she ran her fingers over him as if she were playing the scales on a piano.
“Roughness, I don’t know…not such intense sensitivity.”
“Why do you think so many men think with their lower head instead of the one that has a brain? So many nerve centers demand a lot of attention.”
“I read somewhere that a woman’s clitoris has the highest concentration of nerve endings of anywhere on the body, male or female, but a man’s penis head comes in second.” She brushed gentle fingertips over the top of his while the clitoris she spoke of throbbed in response to the sensory input of her fingers.
He didn’t bother to answer; he groaned instead.
Remembering her dream, she made herself stop touching the most sensitive part of his body for a little while. She wanted it all…every nuance of pleasure sensation she could coax from his body. She concentrated on his chest, tracing circles around his nipples and running her short nails down his rib cage while his body jerked with reaction. His stomach was warm, and she caressed it with hands that trembled in exultation at the license he’d given her with his body. He was such a powerful man, and he’d made himself incredibly vulnerable to her.
It was a heady sensation.
His abdominal muscles clenched in response to her touch…just like in her dream.
And just like in her dream, she wanted more.
Straddling his thighs, she leaned down and kissed the rock-solid contour of his chest. So good. She loved the scent of his skin, the spicy maleness that she associated only with him. Brushing her lips over his warm skin, she moved her head until her open mouth was over one of his now turgid male nipples. She flicked her tongue out to taste, and remembering how much he liked it, she started to suck.
His fingers dug into her scalp, and she sucked harder, rubbing up and down against his erection with her torso. His big body vibrated under her, the sexual tension buzzing off of him palpable.
“Josette, this is going to get out of hand really fast,” he rasped.
She released his nipple from between her teeth and sat up. “No, it’s not.”
His brow rose, questioning her assertion as did the pulsing erection protruding even more stiffly from his body.
“I’m taking you in hand, not letting you get out of it.” She curled her fingers around the evidence of her effect on him, gasping when her fingertips would not quite meet. “You’re so aroused.”
“You’re sitting on top of me wearing my T-shirt, looking sexy as hel—heck, touching me in a way guaranteed to separate me from my sanity. Aroused is a tame word for the storm you’ve got raging inside me.”
His words made her thighs clench in excitement where they straddled his, and she couldn’t help rubbing herself against him, frustrated that the layers between them muted the sensation so much.
He made a hoarse sound low in his throat. “Is this part of your dream?”
She squeezed his erection, unable to tell if it was her hand or his penis that was so hot. “What do you think?”
“I think I want to see more of your body.”
She peeled the T-shirt off over her head, exposing breasts whose peaks were tight with excitement. He reached up and touched them, cupping her and rubbing his palms over elongated nipples highly sensitized by her monthly hormone changes.
She shivered, pressing herself into his palms, and then she pleasured him.
Using the small bottle of hand lotion the hotel had provided, she stroked up and down his length and over his head until he was bowed off the bed, his expression one of tortured pleasure. She felt as if he was inside her, touching her erogenous zones even though his hands were now fisted in the bedspread. Her lower body throbbed with vicarious pleasure, and her nipples stung with excruciating sensation.
“I’m going to come!” His hoarse shout reverberated in the room.
But he didn’t, and she could see the effort it was costing him. Whether he couldn’t take that final step and make himself completely vulnerable to her, or he felt some macho need to hold back his own pleasure when he wasn’t making it mutual, she didn’t know. And she didn’t care.
It was mutual, and she didn’t need him to be inside her to make it that way, but she did need him to orgasm with her hands wrapped around the most intimate part of his body. “Don’t try to hold back, Daniel. I want you to come for me.”
He looked at her, his expression reflecting conflicting desires, his body so taut with arousal it felt as if he was about to snap like an overextended rubber band.
“Give up control. Please.”
“It’s hard…”
“Do you trust me enough?” she asked, her own body trembling with an excess of feeling.
“Yes!” And he came, shouting her name and ejaculating in powerful surges.
As the warmth of his essence mixed with the hand lotion over her fingers, she felt contractions start low in her belly, and these contractions didn’t hurt. They were pure delight and corresponded to something happening in her heart she could no longer even attempt to deny. A well-spring of consuming love bubbled through her bloodstream like uncorked champagne overflowing its bottle.
She tumbled forward, a special gravity pulling her to him that could never be explained in a physics book. Locking her lips to his, her body convulsed in its own orgasm from the sheer pleasure of the man she loved allowing her to give him one.
His hands settled onto her bottom, and he kneaded her, his mouth voracious under hers. They shook together in aftershocks every bit as intense as any they’d had after full intercourse, only finally relaxing into sated passivity several minutes later.
