a
leisurely journey of anticipation, but you make restraint impossible. I crave
you so much I burn hotter than that fire.”
With a smile as seductive as Eve’s, she took his hand
and started toward the bedroom.
“Not in there. I want to see you bathed in firelight.”
He rushed past her to snatch a quilt from the foot of the bed. She shoved back
the sofa. He spread the quilt before the Franklin stove, then tugged her down
with him onto the padded softness.
They knelt, their bodies aligned, and kissed. The heat
of her mouth made him groggy with craving. With a sweep of his tongue, he
probed her texture, the ridges of her teeth, the sweetness of her desire as her
tongue sought his.
“We have on too many clothes.”
“Agreed.” She flicked open his top shirt button, then
the next, and the next until she slid the garment down and off. “This shirt
looks good on you. And off you.”
Her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, but he
brushed them away. “Later. My turn.” He peeled off her sweater, and then the
lace bra. “Yeah, oh, yeah.”
A blush spread over her cheeks and down to her
breasts. He had to see where the rosy color would end. She sucked in a breath
when he stroked a nipple.
“Beautiful. Satiny nipples the color of pink hibiscus
blossoms.”
She chuckled. “A breast connoisseur.”
“You bet.” He lowered her to their bedding and brushed
his lips over each peaked nipple, laving and tasting the sweetness of her skin.
When he suckled her, she arched upward and uttered a soft ah . He kissed
down to her flat stomach. “Breast connoisseur, belly connoisseur. Any part you
have with this soft skin.”
A reflection of flames gilded her moistened breasts.
Dizziness pulsed in his head, in his loins. His need for her overwhelmed him.
She must have seen the heat in his eyes because she
unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down and kicked them off.
Those runner’s killer legs. His gaze riveted on the curls at their apex. A
darker gold, they hinted at the heated passion inside her.
That she trusted him enough to bare herself to him
touched him more deeply than her desire for him. He was used to women desiring
him, but trust had never been an issue. Juliana had journeyed from fearing his
intentions to reliance on his skills and honor, and finally to trust. In spite
of what still stood between them, she opened herself to him.
It humbled him.
The fire crackled as sap bubbled within. The flames
danced and weaved, caressing each other. The only other sound was the thudding
of their hearts.
He skinned away the rest of his clothing so fast that
she laughed.
Before tossing away his jeans, he extracted a foil
packet. “That little store might not have much of a spice and wine selection,
but they had plenty of these.”
“Kiss me.”
He did.
At last they were skin to skin. He kissed her
shoulder, her breasts, her hips and thighs and inhaled the female musk of her
skin. He stroked her body as she moved beneath him.
Her hands caressed his skin, traced the contours of
his muscles, and rubbed his nipples until he ground his teeth. She ran her
palms down his back to his buttocks and scraped her nails over the base of his
spine.
Wildfire streaking over his body, he groaned. Dammit,
he would hold out long enough for her. He massaged the wet silk between her
legs. “You’re so ready for me.”
Moaning, she reached for him, cupping him and stroking
him. “Now, Rick, now.”
When they joined, he groaned at the exquisite
sensation. She was slick and small and tight. His climax clawed at him, but he
took care to join them slowly, and the wonder of it, the joy of the soul-deep
oneness he felt with her stilled him. Stunned him. Awed him.
She locked her legs around him, and they kissed
endlessly as passion built.
He stiffened, fire surging in his blood, poised on the
edge, straining to hold back until she joined him. “Come with me, mi mariposa ,
fly with me.”
And then she cried out, her strong
leisurely journey of anticipation, but you make restraint impossible. I crave
you so much I burn hotter than that fire.”
With a smile as seductive as Eve’s, she took his hand
and started toward the bedroom.
“Not in there. I want to see you bathed in firelight.”
He rushed past her to snatch a quilt from the foot of the bed. She shoved back
the sofa. He spread the quilt before the Franklin stove, then tugged her down
with him onto the padded softness.
They knelt, their bodies aligned, and kissed. The heat
of her mouth made him groggy with craving. With a sweep of his tongue, he
probed her texture, the ridges of her teeth, the sweetness of her desire as her
tongue sought his.
“We have on too many clothes.”
“Agreed.” She flicked open his top shirt button, then
the next, and the next until she slid the garment down and off. “This shirt
looks good on you. And off you.”
Her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, but he
brushed them away. “Later. My turn.” He peeled off her sweater, and then the
lace bra. “Yeah, oh, yeah.”
A blush spread over her cheeks and down to her
breasts. He had to see where the rosy color would end. She sucked in a breath
when he stroked a nipple.
“Beautiful. Satiny nipples the color of pink hibiscus
blossoms.”
She chuckled. “A breast connoisseur.”
“You bet.” He lowered her to their bedding and brushed
his lips over each peaked nipple, laving and tasting the sweetness of her skin.
When he suckled her, she arched upward and uttered a soft ah . He kissed
down to her flat stomach. “Breast connoisseur, belly connoisseur. Any part you
have with this soft skin.”
A reflection of flames gilded her moistened breasts.
Dizziness pulsed in his head, in his loins. His need for her overwhelmed him.
She must have seen the heat in his eyes because she
unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down and kicked them off.
Those runner’s killer legs. His gaze riveted on the curls at their apex. A
darker gold, they hinted at the heated passion inside her.
That she trusted him enough to bare herself to him
touched him more deeply than her desire for him. He was used to women desiring
him, but trust had never been an issue. Juliana had journeyed from fearing his
intentions to reliance on his skills and honor, and finally to trust. In spite
of what still stood between them, she opened herself to him.
It humbled him.
The fire crackled as sap bubbled within. The flames
danced and weaved, caressing each other. The only other sound was the thudding
of their hearts.
He skinned away the rest of his clothing so fast that
she laughed.
Before tossing away his jeans, he extracted a foil
packet. “That little store might not have much of a spice and wine selection,
but they had plenty of these.”
“Kiss me.”
He did.
At last they were skin to skin. He kissed her
shoulder, her breasts, her hips and thighs and inhaled the female musk of her
skin. He stroked her body as she moved beneath him.
Her hands caressed his skin, traced the contours of
his muscles, and rubbed his nipples until he ground his teeth. She ran her
palms down his back to his buttocks and scraped her nails over the base of his
spine.
Wildfire streaking over his body, he groaned. Dammit,
he would hold out long enough for her. He massaged the wet silk between her
legs. “You’re so ready for me.”
Moaning, she reached for him, cupping him and stroking
him. “Now, Rick, now.”
When they joined, he groaned at the exquisite
sensation. She was slick and small and tight. His climax clawed at him, but he
took care to join them slowly, and the wonder of it, the joy of the soul-deep
oneness he felt with her stilled him. Stunned him. Awed him.
She locked her legs around him, and they kissed
endlessly as passion built.
He stiffened, fire surging in his blood, poised on the
edge, straining to hold back until she joined him. “Come with me, mi mariposa ,
fly with me.”
And then she cried out, her strong
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