Page 76 of Just Imagine
He must have sensed her reaction, because he set down his glass and returned to her. This time his eyes held a challenge, and even though she was afraid, she’d never refused a challenge, not when it came from him.
The corner of his mouth twisted in what might have been a smile. Then he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. His touch was feather-light and soft, his mouth closed. There was no hard, probing tongue to remind her of the other, less friendly invasion that would soon take place.
Some of her tension dissolved. His lips found a path to her ear. He kissed the valley below it and then took the lobe with its tiny, silver stud gently between his teeth and teased it with his lips.
Her eyes drifted shut at the sensations he was arousing in her, then snapped open again when he clasped her wrists and stretched them above her head.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down the soft underside of her arms. “It’ll be good. I promise you.” He paused at the crook of her elbow, brushing his thumb back and forth across the sensitive inner surface.
Everything that had passed between them should have made her wary, but as he traced delicate circles in the quivering hollows under her arms, she found the past evaporating and the exquisite sensations of the present taking her prisoner.
He slid the sheet to her waist and gazed at what was revealed. “Your breasts are beautiful,” he muttered huskily.
A more gently reared woman would have lowered her arms, but Kit hadn’t been gently reared, and modesty didn’t occur to her. She saw his head dip, watched his lips part, felt his warm breath on her tender flesh.
She gave a moan as he circled the small nipple with his tongue. He transformed its softness into a tight, pulsing peak. She arched her body, and he opened his lips to encompass what she offered. Tenderly he suckled her.
She found herself lifting her arms to cradle the back of his head in her palms and pull him closer. As his mouth tortured one nipple, he attended to the other with the tough, callused pad of his index finger, teasing the tip and then catching it with his thumb and squeezing it ever so gently.
Not knowing men, she couldn’t understand what a tight rein he was keeping on his own passion as he pleasured her. All she knew was that the pull of his mouth on her breast was firing nerve endings deep inside her.
He pushed the sheet away and lay next to her. Once again his mouth found hers, but this time he didn’t have to coax it open. Her lips were already parted for his pleasure. Still he took his time, letting her become accustomed to the feel of him.
As he played at her lips, Kit’s own hands grew restless. One of her thumbs settled over his hard, flat nipple.
With a groan he plowed his hands into her damp, tangled hair and drew her head up off the pillow. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and took possession of the slippery-hot interior.
The wildness that had always been part of her nature met his passion. She arched beneath him, splaying her fingers over his chest.
The last vestige of his self-control snapped. His hands were no longer content with her breasts. They moved down her body to her belly and then into the dark, silky triangle.
“Open for me, sweet,” he whispered huskily into her mouth. “Let me in.”
She did open. It would have been unthinkable not to. But the access she offered was still not enough for him. He stroked the inner surface of her thighs until she thought she would go mad. Finally her legs were splayed wide enough to satisfy his desire.
“Please,” she gasped.
He touched her then, his wild rose, the center of her. He gently opened her so it wouldn’t be so difficult, taking his time even though he was nearly crazed from needing her as he’d never before needed a woman.
He moved on top of her, kissing her breasts, kissing her sweet young mouth. And then, unable to hold back any longer, he poised himself at the very center of her and slowly entered.
She stiffened. He soothed her with his kisses and then, with one smooth thrust, he broke through her maiden’s veil and put innocence behind her.
She plummeted back to reality at the small, sharp pain. Until now, there had been only pleasure. This felt like a betrayal. His caresses had lied to her. They’d promised something magical, but in the end it had been a devil’s promise.
His hand cupped her chin and turned her face. She glared up at him, too conscious of what was buried deep and massive inside her.
“It’s all right, sweet,” he murmured. “The hurt is over.”
This time she didn’t believe him. “Maybe for you. Get off!”
He smiled a smile that was deep and smoky. His hands returned to her breasts, and she felt the melting begin again.
He began to move inside her, and she no longer wanted him to leave. She dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders and buried her mouth in his neck so she could taste him with her tongue. His skin was sea salt and clean, and the stroking inside her was moving deeper, piercing womb and heart, melting her bones, her flesh, and even her soul.
She arched and strained and let him ride her through day and night, through space itself, clinging to him, to the sweet male of him, the hard shaft of him, driving deeper and deeper into her, carrying her higher, flinging her into the blinding brightness of the sun and moon where she hung for eternity and then shattered into a million slivers of light and darkness, answering his great cry with her own.
PART FOUR
