A Lady's Wish by Katharine Ashe Page B

as it seems to me,” he said roughly, “I am still making love to you.”
    She stiffened. “I-I don’t understand. Are you bored ?”
    He pulled her under him and she felt him entirely, his hips against her soft inner thighs and his hot, hard shaft where she throbbed.
    “Rather, I am overly eager.” With slow thrusts he caressed her and it was heaven, scandalous and sensuous. He did this to her, with her, making her want him more than she thought possible, and she moaned, feeling him with her body. Oh, God, she felt him everywhere . She threaded her fingers through his hair, thoroughly abandoned to the pleasure.
    “But— W-what are you waiting for?” she managed to utter.
    Flames leapt in his emerald eyes. “For you finally to tell me your name.”
    Her breaths failed.
    “Patricia,” she whispered. “My name is Patricia Ramsay.”
    “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Patricia Ramsay.”
    She was his. Finally, after nine years, he took possession of the woman who had filled his dreams without ceasing. Muscles straining, Nik pressed forward then retreated, with each stroke delving deeper, and finally he entered heaven in a woman.
    He could not control his shaking. He had thought he wanted her before. Now embedded in her he knew raw need so powerful it seized the air in his lungs. But he could not go on. She was beautiful, her exquisite breasts, her legs and her hot, wet womanhood dragging him in deeper.
    But she was entirely immobile.
    “Patricia.” The word came out ragged.
    Her eyes flickered then opened, two hazy pools of blue. Swiftly the blue turned bewildered.
    “Nik?” Her voice quavered.
    He swallowed hard, pressing his lips to her damp brow.
    “You may move.” Dear God, if circumstances did not alter swiftly he might end up finishing matters before they even got started. The sensation of her thighs about his hips and her belly beneath his had him paralyzed, all but the rush of blood to one place.
    “I may?” she peeped.
    “You may. In fact it is especially encouraged.” Knowing he was probably making a grave mistake in terms of his diminishing self-control, he slipped his hand along her shoulder and over her breast, trailing his fingertips around the peak he’d had in his mouth minutes earlier. Her eyelids fluttered and her hips shifted. He sucked in a breath and moved against her. He caressed her nipple again, then stroked slowly and steadily into her. She moaned softly, her back arching, sinking him deeper. He struggled for command.
    She stretched her head back and sighed. “Oh, Nik. This is sublime.”
    If she was still able to speak, it was not yet sublime enough for her. He trailed his tongue along her throat, kissed her sweet, swollen lips, and thrust to his length. She gasped. He pulled out and thrust again. This time she met him.
    “ Ohh .”
    “Like that.” Dear God . Again. “ Patricia .” And again. He rode her and her hands grabbed at him, pulling him in hard. She was perfection, sweet and hot, her pliant body, her cries, his name upon her tongue.
    “Nik, I want—” She took him in completely, her damp lips parted. She pressed her palms to his back. “I want this.” He drove into her, meeting her core, caressed by her until he was mad to fill her. Yet still she took from him, fingertips digging into his muscle, forcing him to her over and over, making him pleasure her while he held on beyond insanity. She hooked her strong, slender leg about him and her heel dug into his backside, trapping him. If she desired, he would be trapped forever. But his need could no longer wait. He grabbed her hips and dragged her against him.
    “ Never ,” she uttered. “Not like this,” and with stuttered cries shuddered beneath him. He released deep. Hard, sudden and blinding. Just as he had fallen in love with her—hard, sudden, blinding.
    He sucked in air, grappled for his mind, his sanity, his very person. But they were not to be found. He had lost them. Again. To her. This