Page 147 of Her Reluctant Hero
She wanted to close her eyes, but he watched her with such intensity. He had to feel it, too. And if he did, what then?
He shifted his hips. The hunger returned, not as fierce as before, tempered with a gentleness that might have been love. Unable to bear his watchfulness any longer, she took his face in her hands and kissed him as they found a rhythm and rode it till it was no longer enough that he was inside her. Now they needed satisfaction.
He turned onto his back, guiding her over him, hand on her hips. She followed the pulse of her heart, bringing him in deeper and stronger with each thrust. She encountered the edge of his bandage as she sought a handhold, settled on his biceps as he curled up to kiss her breasts, lips skimming sensitive flesh, sending shivers of pleasure through her. Sweat dripped from her onto him. She was surprised she didn’t hear the sizzle as it landed on his flesh.
Her rhythm faltered as he sipped her nipple between his lips. She stilled and cupped her hand over the back of his head, holding him to her, pressing against him. He brushed his fingertips up the inside of her thigh and his touch had her driving against him.
The pleasure held her there, on the plateau, for endless moments. Her senses were open to everything, the sound of his labored breathing, the scent of him, the scent of them, the familiar thrust of him inside her. She curled her fingers into his shoulders and arched her back to bring him deeper, seeking what he was so good at giving her.
Finding it, and in the haze of her pleasure, feeling him follow.
“Good to know we haven’t lost our touch,” Adrian murmured, one arm flung over his eyes as he caught his breath.
Mallory had nestled against him, her cheek against his shoulder, but she moved away now, onto her back, putting distance between them.
More than just physical, he feared. He could damn near hear the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out what this meant, what this would mean. He had to stop her from thinking. His first instinct was to distract her with sex, but even as long as it’d been since the last time he’d made love to her, he didn’t think he could recover that quickly.
He shifted onto his side to face her, wanting to touch her, unable to read the tension in her body. Would she accept his touch or withdraw? Not wanting to risk it, he tucked his hand under his pillow and watched her do her damnedest not to look at him.
“This used to relax you more,” he murmured.
She sat up with a grimace and dusted off the polyester comforter, then reached for her shirt. “All this sand. I’ve apparently turned into the princess and the pea.”
“Mal.” He curled into a sitting position and stroked the indentation of her spine before she drew back under the guise of putting on her shirt. God, she was working so hard at not looking at him. “Did I—did I hurt you?” He’d tried so hard to be careful, gentle, loving, but he’d never been much successful at controlling himself where Mallory was concerned.
She shook her head, threading her hair loose from the neck of the shirt. The movement brought her scent toward him. Well, maybe sex wouldn’t be out of the question as a distraction.
And more. If she would allow him to touch her again.
“Mallory, I want to hold you.” He damn near choked on the words. That was more information than he wanted to hand her at this point, when everything was still so jumbled.
She glanced back at him with a tiny smile. “Let me shower first.”
“Be happy to help you with that.”
The smile grew bigger as she let her gaze travel down the length of his body, yes, recovering just fine. “This is probably a bad idea.”
Hope flared. “I think it’s the best one I’ve had all year.”
She spun to face him and held out a hand. Ignoring it, he edged to the end of the bed and tucked his hand around her waist, sliding up her body as he rose. She softened against him as he hardened against her, still naked. He sank his fingers into her bare hips. When she shifted and rubbed up against him, he backed her toward the bathroom.
“Impressive recovery time,” she murmured when he reached into the shower to turn on the water without releasing her.
He twisted with a grin. “It’s missed you.”
Her fingers drifted down his stomach to stroke him. He drew in a breath through his teeth. Flashing a grin of her own, she stepped past him into the shower.
“Mind your arm, now.”
Yeah, because keeping his arm dry was what he was thinking about. Still, he guided her to the far end of the tub, pinned her to the wall and lost himself in her.
Minutes later, the water ran cold. Mallory could barely stand. Adrian was pretty damned sure he wouldn’t recover for hours when they staggered back to bed. All he had to do was drag down the bedspread and fall into bed, pulling her with him. She nestled in his arms, her breath evening out almost immediately, her arm flung across his chest.
For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t sleep, not because he was worried, but because he was happy.
Mallory slid her hand across the empty bed, the sheet cool under her fingers as she woke. She lifted her head from the pillow that smelled of him and looked around, listened for the shower. No water running, and the connecting door was closed. Where was he? Her stomach growled as she rolled onto her back. Maybe he’d gone for breakfast. While that sounded good, well, it probably wasn’t wise to spend any more time than necessary in the room. Temptation was not something they dealt well with, clearly.
As she took inventory of her aching muscles, she recalled how they got that way. One thing Adrian had always been was thorough. Just remembering how he had touched her, turned her, filled her, made her want to start all over again.
