Christmas in Whitehorn by Susan Mallery

accidentally kicking him. He held her in place, licking the inside of her knees.
    Darcy finally managed to break free and turn onto her back.
    "Better," he said, returning his attention to her legs, but this time on the front.
    Tension tightened her belly. Her thighs began to tremble. He licked his way up to her tender, willing femininity, then kissed her there. She sank back on the bed, grateful for both his skillful touch and the fact that the shadows had faded from his eyes. She wanted to think about what he'd told her, but she couldn't – not with him licking her center and making her breath come in ragged pants.
    He slipped one finger inside of her, teasing the place that would soon welcome him. His tongue touched her from above, his finger from below. Both moved in tandem until she knew her release was inevitable as the tide.
    "Mark! Please … I want to finish with you inside of me."
    "You will," he murmured against her. "The second time."
    She wanted to protest. She wanted to pull him so that he was forced to enter her, filling her, stretching her until she had no choice but to surrender.
    The erotic image was a mistake. As the fantasy fully formed, she lost control and slipped over the edge into the glory of her release. Her body arched toward him, carrying her to paradise.
    She quivered and gasped until the last whisper of her climax had faded. It was only then that he shifted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling off his jeans and briefs. He leaned toward the nightstand, pulled open the drawer and removed a condom. When he was protected, he knelt between her thighs.
    For a long time he didn't move. He simply stared at her, studying her face as if memorizing every feature. Darcy didn't mind the attention – there was a kind expression in his eyes and she didn't think he would find her wanting. Finally he leaned close and kissed her neck. He moved lower until he could caress her breasts.
    A familiar heat filled her. She reached for him, running her fingers up and down his back. As her desire grew, she became more insistent, pressing on the small of his back, urging him closer.
    Finally he entered her. Slowly … so slowly … making her call out for him to hurry, then catching her breath when he finally found his way home. Once there, he began to move more quickly. His thrusts became frantic. He supported himself on his hands and gazed into her eyes.
    She felt herself readying for another climax. With him looking at her so intently, she felt exposed. Yet she couldn't seem to close her eyes. Even as the first spasms swept through her, she stared into his soul. Perhaps this act would heal him.
    He stiffened. His expression tightened. Still he didn't look away. They climaxed together, still staring at each other. The act of intimacy somehow became more of a connection than she'd experienced before. When Mark finally sank down on the bed and pulled her close, Darcy felt shaken.
    Something had fundamentally changed between them. She didn't understand what, but the possibilities frightened her. Wanting to heal him was one thing – she was good at doing that. But engaging her heart was quite another. Not only did she sense that Mark wasn't a man looking for a relationship, there was still the issue of the secrets of her past.
    "Thank you," he breathed against her hair.
    "You're welcome."
    They held each other in silence. Finally he kissed her mouth.
    "Are you going to ask me about today?"
    She knew he wasn't talking about the fact that they'd made love. Instead he meant the suicide of someone he had known.
    "Do you think talking will help you?"
    "No, but you have the right to get some answers." Rights given to her by virtue of them both being naked. Darcy sighed. Those kinds of rights were often complicated.
    "Was he a close friend?"
    Mark stiffened. In that second, Darcy knew she'd asked the wrong questions. She instantly felt stupid and used. The suicide hadn't been by a male friend. No, a woman had