Guarding Jeannie

Releasing her mouth, he breathed deeply. 'Not here. Not on the hard ground, exposed like this. Not our first time.'

'Then take me home, Sam. Take me home and make me yours.'

With his heartbeat wild, his desire at fever pitch, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house. He opened the French doors leading from the veranda into her bedroom, walked into the moonlit sanctuary and laid her down on the pure white bed.

Chapter 12

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Moonlight suffused the room, coating the walls with pale luminance, casting a yellow- white glow over the floor and furniture, surrounding Jeannie like a body halo of purity. The summer breeze swept inside through the open windows and French doors, encompassing them in a warm cocoon. The ocean's undulatory melody drifted in on the night air.

Jeannie sat up in the middle of the bed and removed her sundress. Wearing only a pair of pink silk panties, her breasts thrusting forward as she braced the palms of her hands on each side of her hips, she smiled and called his name.

'Sam…'

She was a siren now, an enticing vixen with a woman's needs. And yet she was still an angel, so pure and innocent and compassionate.

Jeannie lay back on the bed, her heartbeat drumming in her ears, as she reached up, inviting Sam into her arms. She burned with a need she had never known before Sam Dundee entered her secure world. He had changed everything. After she saved his life, nothing had ever been the same again. And now that he had returned, possessed with a need to protect her, to care for her, their fate was sealed.

Since the night she had suffered agony for him, they had been partially united, their souls connected by a thin, invisible cord. With each passing day they were together, they became closer, their feelings for each other growing stronger. Tonight they would become one. There could be no going back, only forward, straight ahead into the bonding of their souls.

Sam could remember nothing in his life he'd ever wanted more than he wanted Jeannie. His Jeannie. His sweet, beautiful angel.

With arms uplifted, her face kissed with moonlight, she waited for him. He wanted to rip off his clothes and thrust into her with wild abandon. But Jeannie was no ordinary woman. What was happening between them was special, unique. Something to be experienced fully, savored lovingly. He could not rush their lovemaking. For her, this would be the first time. And it would be a first for him, too. Making love to a woman who could feel his every emotion, who could experience his desire and his pleasure. The very thought of what lay ahead scared him as much as it excited him.

Sam unbuttoned his short-sleeved cotton shirt, slid it off his shoulders and tossed it onto the floor at the foot of Jeannie's bed. The way she looked at him—her eyes caressing him, her lips tasting him, her hands tormenting him without once touching him—stirred his blood and hardened his body.

Thick, cascading strands of her silky brown hair covered one bare breast, leaving the other an uncovered temptation. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed. Her lips parted on an indrawn sigh.

He sensed her longing, her need a viable force, strong enough to sweep them both over the edge of conscious action. He had to remain in control for just a while longer, until he was certain he wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't destroy her with the power of his desire.

Unzipping his navy blue shorts, Sam didn't take his eyes off Jeannie. He trembled, wanting her, needing her. Lured by her femininity, lost to her seductive charms, he surrendered to the desire he could no longer control.

Sliding his shorts down to his ankles, he kicked them aside. He stood before her, all power and masculine muscle, in a pair of navy blue briefs, his sex straining against the silk fabric. Perspiration moistened his hands and forehead; dots of sweat broke out across his upper lip. A white-hot need seared him to the bone.

Jeannie wanted to touch him, to run her hands over every inch of his body, caress every bulging muscle, kiss his tiny, pebble-hard nipples, thread her fingers through the thatch of thick brown hair on his chest. If only he would come to her, allow her to touch him.

Her magnificently beautiful, elegant savage.

Sam eased down on the bed, placing his knees on either side of her feet. Crawling slowly up her body, bracing himself with his hands so that the contact was whisper light, he covered her body with his. She touched him hesitantly at first, sweeping her hands across his shoulders. He shuddered; she trembled.

And then exactly what she had been waiting for happened. The connection. The blending. Gradually, with just faint glimmers of awareness, Jeannie felt Sam's hunger and knew that it more than equaled hers. He was a virile man, experienced in the ways of the world, and yet he was uncertain. He was afraid his desire would be too much for her to handle, that it would be too powerful for her fragile innocence.

He needed her reassurance. She had to do more than issue an invitation; she would have to be the persuader, seducing him beyond the point of no return.

Arching her body, lifting herself closer to Sam, she kissed his chest, then drew a damp circle around first one and then his other nipple. He sucked in a deep, excruciating breath.

She felt the first crack in his iron control. She kissed his shoulder. He eased his body lower, his chest brushing her breasts. She gasped when her breasts tightened, almost painfully, and sent a signal straight to her core.

Slipping her arms around his waist, she buried her face in his shoulder. Her tongue drew spiraling circles from his shoulder, up his neck and to his ear. She squirmed beneath him, well aware of what her movements were doing to him. He was holding back, trying to be patient. And it was killing him!

Didn't he know, she wondered, that she felt every painful throb of his sex, every pulsating ache? Had he no idea that the longer he postponed their lovemaking, the more painfully aroused she would become?

She kissed his cheek. The pulse in his neck twitched. She covered his mouth, licking like a kitten lapping cream until he opened to her insistent little tongue, taking her inside as he followed her lead. Intensifying the kiss, Sam devoured her as he gripped her hips, lifting her up and against his arousal. She cried out, the sound trapped in his mouth, as shudders of intense pleasure skyrocketed through her.

Continuing the kiss, he divested her of her pink panties and eased his hand between her legs, parting her thighs. With an equal amount of urgency, she tugged on his briefs, pulling them down and over his firm, rounded buttocks, pausing to stroke him lovingly. Using her foot, she slid his briefs to his ankles and off onto the floor.

With each touch, each kiss, each urgent moan, the link between them grew stronger, until Sam, too, faintly sensed Jeannie's feelings. Knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her only added fuel to the blazing flame of his passion.

He touched her nipple, already beaded and throbbing. She swallowed a moan. He placed his mouth on her, suckling her breast. She wrapped herself around him, her soft little cries a plea for release.

'Please, don't wait any longer,' she whispered as he suckled her other breast. 'Oh, Sam, put an end to our pain.'

Too soon! Too soon! his mind told him. Now! his body urged. She feels what you feel, his heart told him.

'I need to protect you,' he said.

'I need no protection from you, Sam.'

And then he sensed her probing, seeking entrance inside his mind. He allowed her to come in, and when their minds joined, each realized the searing-hot fire and uncontrollable force of their combined madness. Knowing he would hurt her, if only briefly, Sam tried to be gentle, lifting her hips, entering her by slow degrees.

He was so big; she was so small.

He was a savage brute; she was a gentle angel.

No! she cried out silently. I'm as savage as you are and you are as gentle as I am. Take me, Sam. Please take me now!

Sam responded by thrusting to the hilt, giving her all of himself. She groaned, accepting the quick, hot pain. He stopped, his breathing ragged, sweat dripping from his body onto hers.

Heaven help him, but he'd felt her pain. How was that possible? It wasn't.

The pain subsided. She knew he'd felt it, too, but had dismissed it as impossible.