The Fairest of Them All by Leanne Banks Page A

experimentally, against him. He opened his eyes, and Carly’s heart jolted at his expression. His face was taut, his brown eyes singed her with raw male hunger.
    He thrust forward against her moist, silk-covered femininity, revealing the full force and implication of his intent. Her mouth went dry. Her body burned, steamy and feverish, from the inside out. Yet, he still seemed hesitant.
    “Russ,” she said around the lump in her throat, “why are we still dressed?” Then, with unsteady hands, Carly pushed the unbuttoned cotton shirt from his shoulders.
    Russ pulled the jersey off her. As he kissed her, she pushed her fingers through the soft curly thatch of hair on his chest. She glided her hands over his corded muscles. She ran her fingernail over one tight male nipple and felt his gasp against her throat. Her panties disappeared next.
    In a swift movement, he shucked his jeans and pushed her thighs farther apart to accommodate him. Carly braced herself for him, but he tantalized her with the intimate proximity, focusing his attention on her beaded, sensitive breasts.
    With lips, tongue, and teeth, he teased her to distraction. Just when she thought he was finished, he sucked one engorged nipple deep into his mouth. At the same time, his hand traveled with lazy precision to her wet, aching core.
    Carly choked out a cry.
    But Russ wasn’t through with her yet. While stroking the tiny nubbin of femininity, he slid one finger inside her. An unbearable tightness coiled within her. She arched off the bed, against his hand, against his chest.
    “It’s okay,” he murmured.
    But it wasn’t. Beneath his hands and mouth, Carly hovered on the razor-sharp line of wrenching need. Tears came to her eyes. Her fingers clenched his broad shoulders in agitated movements. “Russ!”
    Russ instantly stopped. “Am I hurting you?”
    Carly could have wept. “No. Yes.” The unsatisfied yearning threatened to bum her to cinders. “Don’t leave me like this.” She twisted restlessly against him.
    “Oh, baby, I won’t.” He kissed her, then pulled back for a quick moment to protect her. “Put your legs around my waist,” he murmured in her ear.
    Carly complied, distantly feeling the fine sheen of perspiration on his skin, hearing the telltale roughness in his voice. His body was taut and hard against hers. He gently probed her entrance with his iron masculinity.
    She looked at his face, a mask of sternly controlled need, and wanted to soothe and release him from his torment. She moved against him in a seeking, welcoming motion.
    Russ gritted his teeth. “Don’t move.”
    “Why?”
    He cursed under his breath. “Just don’t.”
    Carly didn’t comply. She arched, drawing him in.
    “Oh, God,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” Then he thrust deeply within her.
    Carly gasped. Her body stung, protesting the intimate invasion. They both lay there perfectly still. Russ’s breath heaved.
    After a long moment, he raised his head. “You okay?”
    Carly didn’t answer right away. Instead she wiggled experimentally.
    Russ groaned, staring into deep violet eyes. Her lips were provocatively swollen from his kisses. Her breasts beaded against his chest. Her thighs wrapped around his waist like a silken chain. He couldn’t remember wanting like this before. He wanted her body, her mind, her heart. Complete possession. Nothing else would do. If possible, he grew harder. The urge to mindlessly, repeatedly pump into her grew stronger with each passing second. “You okay?”
    Carly wiggled again, the movement drawing him deeper into her and depleting his mental reserve. “I want—” she broke off when he rubbed his finger against her sensitized bud. “I-just want-more of you,” she whispered brokenly.
    Her womanly neediness stabbed his heart and shattered his control. Russ thrust against her. Her feminine walls grasped him while he watched with tender fascination as the motion of his persistent, caressing finger sent Carly into