“Tremayne,” she cried at last, frustrated, eager, so wrung out from walking the tightrope his fingers pulled and swung at will that her mind finally gave up. And she gave in to begging. “Lord Tremayne, please. What—”
Only then did he loosen his hold on her waist, halt the torture between her legs.
“Why did you sto— Ah!”
Before she knew what he was about, he curved both hands under her arms and hefted her higher.
The new position angled her head awkwardly toward the mattress, and it was too much effort to raise it. Too easy to concentrate on sensations instead of sight. On his arm sliding between their bodies, fumbling for a second, then firming as he positioned his erection at her entrance.
“Like this?” At the first nudge of his penis, her confusion cleared and she grasped the previously foreign concept. Still… “It’s possible? From this direction?”
But already, her feet were moving over the mattress to give her more control, her abdomen pressing down, pushing her lady bits against the crown of his hard flesh. Her hips twisting and tilting to accommodate the silky glide of his staff pushing into her, wedging itself more securely inside.
“Oh…my.” The sensations he wrought within her majestic. Unreal.
It was being split apart and made whole all at once. It was terrible, aching pain and incredible, awesome pleasure.
It was rainbows bursting across her closed eyelids and storm clouds gathering strength.
It was so good and so different and— “Wicked or not, I want to see.”
When she tried to raise her head, her neck protested. Then his hand was there, his palm cradling her nape, his fingers supporting her skull. It was the sight of their heads, close together, both staring above, at each other…
It was his other hand reaching past her stomach, fingers splaying around his thrusting shaft, the heel of his palm digging into her, finding that spot and riding it…
Her pelvis vibrating beneath his touch, her feminine muscles clamped on for the ride of their life…
And it was her body balancing between restraint and release, hovering between power and weakness…
Her mouth forming a breathy string of high-pitched sounds, encouraged by his deep-throated murmurs…
And finally, shockingly, it was her loins winding into a coil of painful passion, so strong that when the crest finally came, it burst on a wave of wet release, a visible shower of—of—of, she didn’t know what, but one that had his fingers flying swiftly over her intimate flesh, had him groaning approval and praise with barely discernible words, the only thing she had the presence of mind to comprehend, the husked, “You’re a d-delight,” which was more than enough.
She gasped, strove for breath.
Sweating. Crying. Heaving as air and delight coalesced and bathed her insides as surely as her body had bathed his fingers.
His renewed thrusting and swirling touch made it clear that the rush of dampness she’d found so startling—and embarrassing, by the only part of her that wasn’t reveling in the glory he’d brought her to—was something he certainly reveled in.
Just when she thought it was over, that she was descending into the replete and utter bliss he’d first taught her last night, that mayhap she could catch her breath, it began again—right beneath his dancing fingertips…
An urge.
A need that was more. Fierce. Nearly unbearable. “I cannot—”
“Aye.” He used the hand supporting her head to bring her face to his. “You can.”
His lips ravaged hers, his mouth taking possession in a manner more demanding than anything that had come before.
What a treasure!
Daniel couldn’t believe the unrestrained passion in the slight package writhing over him.
She wasn’t experienced enough to hide her responses; wasn’t jaded enough to fake them. No mistaking that sweet, sweet flood of her climax, proof their bodies spoke the same language.
Knowing beyond a doubt he could give her this—carnal pleasure, a true appreciation of herself as a vibrant, sexual being—was one of the greatest gifts Daniel had ever received.
Giving to his precious Thea made it clear how he’d reduced sex to habit, done it by rote for too long, going through the motions without any feeling at all. For he’d never been more pleased by pleasing a lover more.
Never been more thrilled than when she splintered in his arms—under his command, around his cock.
And now—the taste of her honeyed mouth? The reciprocal surge of her tongue stroking his?
Her response lent steel to his shaft, fluidity to his strumming fingers…
Her Venus mound bloomed again.
She was close. He knew it. And she was scared. Shaking again.
Pushing his tongue from her and whimpering, “I can’t. Not—”
Her body thought otherwise. He wasn’t even moving his hand now. Wasn’t pumping his cock into her. Nay, despite her initial hesitation, Thea’s inborn instincts had taken over.
Now she was rocking into him, swiveling her hips frantically, her tiny fists clenched, nails dug into his wrists, keeping his fingers firmly on her.
Her primal keen blessed his ears as her responsive flesh engorged, jerked, and dampened his fingers yet again as her sheath rippled along his shaft.
Only then did he release his control and surrender to his own climax, his essence jetting out in time with her inner constrictions, her near-shouted pants of, “Intense. Aye. Intense.”
Scant minutes later, just when he’d thought she’d drifted off, Daniel occupying himself with the simple act of holding her, she surprised him by rolling to her side and fixing her gaze on his. “You’ve rendered me speechless. ‘Intense’ is all I can offer.”
His smile told her it was enough.
“Who’s Cyclops?”
The unexpected question confounded the truth right out of his mouth. “My dog.”
“Your dog?” She digested that for a moment. One elegant eyebrow arched in a show of pique, but her voice was only curious when she asked, “And
