Eye of the Storm by Renee Simons Page A

mouth and slid along the slick inner surfaces, stroking, beckoning until her tongue followed every movement.
    His heartbeat drummed wildly beneath his ribs as his hands traced the sensuous curve of her hips. He pressed her tightly to him, revealing the fierce power she had awakened that now throbbed between them. The movement changed the balance of her body, tearing her lips from his and forcing her head backwards on the slender column of her neck, exposing her throat to a shower of hot, hungry kisses that stopped only when his mouth met the barrier of her open-necked blouse.
      Zan brought her head forward and watched his eyes as she slowly undid the buttons until her cotton shirt lay open to the waist. Her gaze held his as he pulled the garment free, slipped it off her shoulders and lay it aside. She did the same for him with hands that were unsteady but determined, that warmed him as they brushed his bare skin. She undid a wisp of lacy bra and added it to the small pile of clothing in a corner of the loft.
    His gaze caressed her breasts, then his hands followed with the gentle touch he might have reserved for a precious treasure. Finally his mouth nuzzled the firm white flesh and teased her nipples. She trembled and he drew away so he could watch her expression. He found a strange light in her eyes, as if a flame flickered in their depths, that seared his blood and caused his pulse to race.
    "You don't mind it?" she asked.
    "What?"
    "The scar."
    When he'd brought her coffee, he'd noticed the hairline track that ran from breastbone to naval and had given it one fleeting thought . . . that it was connected to the "close call" she'd had.
    "You're lucky to be alive, from the looks of it."
    "Yes."
    "Then I'm lucky, too."
    "It doesn't . . . bother you?"
    In response, he eased her backwards onto the mat, slowly, with all the control he could manage, following her down and covering her with his body. His fingers laced with hers as he raised her arms above her head. His skin drank in the scent and feel of her. His lips covered her face and throat with kisses, branding him with the memory of her taste.
    When he released her hands her fingers threaded themselves through his hair. Her mouth searched hungrily for his. A soft moan throbbed against his lips. He captured it and took it inside as his breath mingled with hers and their tongues joined once more.
    He slipped a hand between them, undid her jeans and eased them down over her hips to brush the velvety skin of her abdomen that first quivered beneath his fingers and then warmed to his touch.
    She slipped her hands beneath his own butter-soft denims and caressed his buttocks with gentle palms. Her touch caused him to tighten against her belly. Her breath hissed between her teeth and a groan tore from her throat.
    "Stormwalker?" she said softly, "I don't want anything between us."
    "All right," he said, and together they removed the last of their clothing.
    He lay beside her and took in the beauty of her body.
    "How can you look at it?" she whispered. "That scar is ugly. It's made me ugly."
    With one finger, he traced the long, slender ridge of hardened flesh that ended just above her navel. She shuddered and pulled in her stomach muscles as if to escape his touch.
    He passed his palm lightly over the skin stretched tautly across her pelvic bones, soothed with a gentle circular motion that relaxed her though she fought to resist, while his skin tingled from touching her. He moved his hand across the smooth expanse of warm, vibrant flesh and let it trail down her side from breast to thigh.
    He urged her legs apart, tested their strong muscles and caressed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her legs closed reflexively and trapped his hand in a powerful grip he did nothing to break. Instead, he shifted position; his mouth completed the circle back up her body to the creamy breasts that held such fascination for him.
    His tongue traced the scar as his finger tip had done. A strange