It fell unheeded to the
floor.
"Sweetheart, I'm going to make love to you tonight. Don't try to stop
me. We both know now that stopping wouldn't be what either of us
wants." As if her hands were gossamer, Torr slipped his fingers down to
the next button of the gown, unfastening it easily.
She was acting crazily, she knew, and suddenly ceased her small efforts
at restraint. She wanted him. There was no need to fight any longer. She
felt him find the last button and then he was pushing the flannel gown off
her shoulders, letting it drop slowly to her waist.
Any uncertainty she felt about how he would react to the sight of her
body vanished beneath the heat of Torr's molten eyes. For a long moment
he gazed down at her as she stood half-naked in the shadows, and then his
fingers went to the tip-tilted crests of her breasts.
"Abby, you make my head spin. I feel as if I'm on fire," Torr breathed
huskily. "On fire." His head lowered, his lips fastening on hers with such
restrained ferocity that Abby shivered in response.
Excitement flared higher in her, making her senses shimmer. Her head
followed the direction of his silent command, drifting back into the cradle
of his shoulder as Torr caressed the gentle fullness of her breasts.
She could feel the ripening thrust of her nipples as surely as he must be
able to feel it. Torr's soft growl of satisfaction told her that he was well
aware of her body's response. Abby let her fingers trail along the column of
his throat, slipping inside his shirt collar to find the first curling hairs on
his chest.
For a moment longer Torr's palm grazed the hardening outline of her
nipples and then with a sudden, unexpected movement his hand went
down her stomach, catching the nightgown and pulling it off completely.
"Abby, Abby, honey, you're beautiful."
Torr let his hand hover for a moment just above the triangle of hair
which defined the area of her womanhood and then he boldly pressed his
fingers against her.
Abby cried out softly against his mouth, her body tensing with
expectation and feminine uncertainty.
"Oh, sweetheart. Let me feel your warmth. I want you so, darling Abby.
I need to know you want me."
The words poured over her skin and into her mouth as Torr's tongue
tangled once again with her own. She could feel the probing roughness of
his hand and the sensation sent ripples of shocked excitement through
her. Her legs felt suddenly weak, unable to support her weight. When his
foot thrust gently between her bare feet she gave way to his touch
completely.
Instantly Torr explored her with incredibly enthralling intimacy. The
feel of her seemed to release whatever bonds had been holding him until
then.
"Ah, sweet Abby. So warm and welcoming. I'm going to lose myself in
you tonight, sweetheart."
A moment later Abby felt the dark world revolve dizzyingly around her
as Torr swept her up into his arms and started for the staircase.
"Look at you, woman," he teased huskily, "lying naked in my arms, your
hair flowing down. You make me feel like some sort of conquering
barbarian."
"Perhaps you are," she whispered, her eyes smoky now with the depths
of her own desire and excitement. She felt him take the stairs with strong
easy strides, her weight obviously not slowing him down. He carried her to
the top and then turned unhesitatingly down the hall to the door of his
own room. In another moment Abby was being settled in the middle of the
wide, turned-back bed.
She lay watching him from beneath her lashes as he undressed in the
darkness. Torr removed his clothes with an uncaring impatience,
stripping them off and leaving them on the floor. When he turned to her,
she found herself drinking in the sight of his magnificently aroused body,
his obvious strength not at all intimidating here in the shadows. She
should be wary of it, Abby thought distantly. She ought to be nervous now
at the sight of him. But her arms reached up for him as he came
floor.
"Sweetheart, I'm going to make love to you tonight. Don't try to stop
me. We both know now that stopping wouldn't be what either of us
wants." As if her hands were gossamer, Torr slipped his fingers down to
the next button of the gown, unfastening it easily.
She was acting crazily, she knew, and suddenly ceased her small efforts
at restraint. She wanted him. There was no need to fight any longer. She
felt him find the last button and then he was pushing the flannel gown off
her shoulders, letting it drop slowly to her waist.
Any uncertainty she felt about how he would react to the sight of her
body vanished beneath the heat of Torr's molten eyes. For a long moment
he gazed down at her as she stood half-naked in the shadows, and then his
fingers went to the tip-tilted crests of her breasts.
"Abby, you make my head spin. I feel as if I'm on fire," Torr breathed
huskily. "On fire." His head lowered, his lips fastening on hers with such
restrained ferocity that Abby shivered in response.
Excitement flared higher in her, making her senses shimmer. Her head
followed the direction of his silent command, drifting back into the cradle
of his shoulder as Torr caressed the gentle fullness of her breasts.
She could feel the ripening thrust of her nipples as surely as he must be
able to feel it. Torr's soft growl of satisfaction told her that he was well
aware of her body's response. Abby let her fingers trail along the column of
his throat, slipping inside his shirt collar to find the first curling hairs on
his chest.
For a moment longer Torr's palm grazed the hardening outline of her
nipples and then with a sudden, unexpected movement his hand went
down her stomach, catching the nightgown and pulling it off completely.
"Abby, Abby, honey, you're beautiful."
Torr let his hand hover for a moment just above the triangle of hair
which defined the area of her womanhood and then he boldly pressed his
fingers against her.
Abby cried out softly against his mouth, her body tensing with
expectation and feminine uncertainty.
"Oh, sweetheart. Let me feel your warmth. I want you so, darling Abby.
I need to know you want me."
The words poured over her skin and into her mouth as Torr's tongue
tangled once again with her own. She could feel the probing roughness of
his hand and the sensation sent ripples of shocked excitement through
her. Her legs felt suddenly weak, unable to support her weight. When his
foot thrust gently between her bare feet she gave way to his touch
completely.
Instantly Torr explored her with incredibly enthralling intimacy. The
feel of her seemed to release whatever bonds had been holding him until
then.
"Ah, sweet Abby. So warm and welcoming. I'm going to lose myself in
you tonight, sweetheart."
A moment later Abby felt the dark world revolve dizzyingly around her
as Torr swept her up into his arms and started for the staircase.
"Look at you, woman," he teased huskily, "lying naked in my arms, your
hair flowing down. You make me feel like some sort of conquering
barbarian."
"Perhaps you are," she whispered, her eyes smoky now with the depths
of her own desire and excitement. She felt him take the stairs with strong
easy strides, her weight obviously not slowing him down. He carried her to
the top and then turned unhesitatingly down the hall to the door of his
own room. In another moment Abby was being settled in the middle of the
wide, turned-back bed.
She lay watching him from beneath her lashes as he undressed in the
darkness. Torr removed his clothes with an uncaring impatience,
stripping them off and leaving them on the floor. When he turned to her,
she found herself drinking in the sight of his magnificently aroused body,
his obvious strength not at all intimidating here in the shadows. She
should be wary of it, Abby thought distantly. She ought to be nervous now
at the sight of him. But her arms reached up for him as he came
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