Page 67 of Conail

He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. The passion was so intense, the desire so overpowering, he was being swept completely away. When her hands dropped weakly away from his wrists, he rubbed her neck, thumbs feeling the racing pulse there. She was as affected as he was. He could end the conversation now and oh how he wanted to! He could just simply rip the dress from her and take her right here on his leather sofa, but he was determined to get things out in the open.

"I pushed you away." He continued hoarsely. "When you mentioned a relationship, I froze. And I lashed out at you."

"I'm not her." She whispered achingly. Lifting a hand, she touched his stubborn chin, one finger exploring the dent. "I would never do that to you."

"I know. Somehow I knew that." Capturing her hand, he pressed it to his mouth, his warm breath sending white hot darts of fire into her very soul. The intensity scared her. Nothing had prepared her for all of it. There were so many emotions tumbling around inside her, it was a wonder she did not simply explode. "Take me to bed, Conail. I need to feel you."

"We should talk--"

"No. Take me to bed."

Chapter 17

He labored over her and was determined to take his time. Even if it killed him. He would use his body to transmit what his heart was not yet ready to face, to say. The gnawing hunger for her was relentless. He felt like tiny little ants were crawling up and down inside him. It had only gotten worse since she came into his bedroom. Truth be told, it had started when he danced with her at her brother's wedding. The scent, the sight, the feel of her had set him off until he did not know if he was coming or going.

It had taken a Herculean effort not to just tear the dress off her while they were downstairs. He had been acutely relieved when she refused the offer of tea.

Now, she had been the one to take the initiative and he was going to make up for his horrible gaffe. Starting with carefully taking off her dress. His breath hitched when he saw what she was wearing underneath it.

Dear God, if he had known -- had any inkling that it was a slender wisp of black silk teddy that stretched to the limits over her overflowing breasts and swollen belly, he wouldhave dragged her into the barn and taken her -- ruthlessly, mindlessly, until he was swimming in her essence.

"Oh Christ!" he felt himself swelling, stretching, throbbing -- his mind buzzing. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself. This was utter and complete madness, he thought hazily as she stretched out on the bed, head cradled by his mound of pillows. She had removed the dangling earrings and put them on the side table. And was captivatingly naked. He had never seen a more beautiful woman.

Whereas he had taken utter care to take off her clothes, it was the opposite with his. With careless disregard for the fine threads, he dragged impatiently until he was naked. His eyes flew to hers and noticed where hers was concentrated. He was throbbingly aroused.

"Don't be afraid." If she told him to stop now, he was going to die. "Please."

"I'm not."

Pathetically eager, he lowered next to her and explored her face. He had to concentrate on something else, something mundane, or he was going to end up coming prematurely.

"The wedding was lovely." He trailed a finger over a smooth cheek, marveling at the texture of her skin.

"What?" She blinked at him in confusion. The sight of his magnificent body, the fullness of his very impressive sex had thrown her for a loop.

"The wedding -- your brother's. The bride was beautiful." He was teasing her left lobe, circling the tiny hole there.

"I don't--"

"The chapel was quaint. I don't much go for churches--"

"Stop. I don't want to talk about my brother. I'm dying."

"So am I," he admitted hoarsely. His eyes were a swirl of misty greens, reminding her of a painting she had seen inside a gallery -- of wood and forest smoke.

"I want to seduce you."

"You already are."

Bending his head, he flicked his tongue over her lobe, before pulling it between his teeth and nibbling. Heat shot to the core of her and had her turning towards him. Her fingers tangled into dense dark brown hairs -- her senses tingling as she felt the unsteady drumming of his heart.

But he did not stop there. He went for the hollow of her throat. When she arched her head, he ravished the skin until her pulse was bounding like a wild thing.

Moving slowly down to the top of her breast, he lavished the skin with kisses, tasting the dewiness, the flavor of the perfume she had sprayed on and the bath beads she had used. She tasted ofhope and light -- honey and sunshine and he could feast forever. Her hands clutched at his hair as if she was trying to drag his head. Her fingers went lax at first when he seized the nipple, tongue rolling over the tight bud until she felt as if she was going to die from the pleasure.

Then she tightened her hold in the denseness of his hair. He was suckling -- fiercely, ardently -- until she was sobbing, her body vibrating. He did not want to stop. The taste of her was designed to drive a man crazy. He was susceptible to her -- his body craving hers like a newborn craving his mother's milk.

He transferred to the other nipple and by the time he had pulled it between his teeth, she came -- violently. Feeling the change, he reached down and simply pressed his palm over her sex. The scream rent the air and had the tears falling from her eyes. She could not bear it. How could she bear such insanity?

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