Tango in Paradise by Donna Kauffman Page A

holding the light weight of her in his palms, he gently rubbed long fingers across her nipples. Her breath came in small gasps then, and Jack was rocked by the knowledge that his need for her could actually intensify. Fiercely maintaining his control, he continued to gently manipulate her breasts, and was rewarded when they became fuller and firmer in his large hands.
    Tempering the urge to use his teeth to tear open the buttoned neckline of her dress, he forced himself to release her breasts. But his hands never left her warm skin as he slid his fingers back along the edge of her top and lifted her hair. “I want you to see my hands on you.” He released the pearl buttons at her nape and her top fell to her waist, her dress held on only by her slim belt.
    “Sweet heaven, are you beautiful.” Jack nestled his chin on April’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Look down. Watch my hands cover you.” He moved his thumbs in slow circles around her hardened nipples as he spoke, evoking small gasps and a light shudder. “So small and perfect.”
    April couldn’t remain silent any longer. “So large and gentle.” When he paused, she covered his large hands with her smaller ones and he continued to caress her. The sweetness of his lovemaking, the eroticism of his words, made her feel almostremoved from herself, yet more in touch within herself than she’d ever been, or could hope to be again. Except with him.
    She watched the moonlight create shadows under his palms as he cupped her and whispered in her ear all the places she was going to watch him touch her. Small moans passed her lips unheeded. She was beyond coherent thought, responding to the purely primal demands of her body.
    “Turn around. Touch me.” She did as he asked and he cursed the shadows that deprived him of seeing her. Lifting her onto the small windowsill, he pressed her back against the cool glass, inhaling her gasp into his mouth. He pulled her arms around his neck as he pressed his tongue deep between her open lips. He tasted her, all of her.
    Their tongues dueling, then thrusting until he groaned, he pushed her skirt to her hips and pulled her legs around his hips. Finding the strength to leave her mouth he whispered, “Don’t let me go,” then moved to taste her breasts.
    She whimpered and bucked against him as he drew first one nipple, then the other into his hot mouth and drew them out to their fullest. “Take off my shirt,” he commanded roughly. “I want to feel you against my chest.”
    April was half out of her mind by then and all but tore the shirt from his body. Once he was bared, she didn’t pull him back into her arms. Shecouldn’t. Not yet. First she wanted to—had to—taste him the way he had her. Inch by slow, wet inch.
    She felt the tremors race across his skin and thrilled in the knowledge that he was dancing on the edge too. She moved to the pulse point along the side of his neck, which was erotically illuminated by the moonlight. She pressed a soft kiss on the very spot that pulsed, then ran her tongue over it before gently biting it. Abruptly Jack yanked his upper body away from her, his chest rising and falling in deep, rapid breaths.
    Jerked halfway back to reality, April’s mind swam for a moment and she spoke the first thought she had. “Did I hurt you?”
    “Never,
mi cielo
.” He paused to take several deep breaths, completely unaware of the name he’d used or of the fact that her eyes came into sharp and complete focus almost immediately. “But if your hot little tongue had wet so much as another inch of my skin, I couldn’t have gotten my pants off in time to get inside you.”
    April felt pummeled, confused by the hard reality of his words and her body’s continued response to them. Nonetheless, the endearment had thrown her, knocking her out of their syncopated rhythm. She felt lost, cheated, angry. But why? It was just a stupid nickname.
    “April?”
    The word was a combination query and demand.