Page 38 of A Tempest of Desire
Her entire body reacted as though she was soaring through a storm and the lightning had actually struck her, causing every nerve ending to shiver with delight in response. “Oh, dear Lord.”
Sensations of pleasure swept through her. She’d never experienced anything like it.
Langdon was an expert at knowing exactly where to lick, when to suck, how much pressure to apply. A slow roll of his tongue in a figure eight. A long swipe that parted those lips and took him nearer to her core.
Marlowe thought it was her screams while lost in the throes of a nightmare that had brought him to her. She wondered if her screams while lost in the throes of pleasure would have him staying with her tonight. Last night there had been no nightmare. Perhaps she’d been too exhausted or maybe it was simply because this man’s presence in the bed with her was strong enough to hold dreadful dreams at bay.
She was reluctant to admit it to herself, much less to him, but his refusal to warm the bed earlier had been a disappointment. The sound of his breathing, the heat of his body, the scent of his skin were all a calming aphrodisiac.
Oh, but the sight of his broad shoulders spreading her thighs, his head moving as he taunted and teased, and his hands inching up beneath her shirt were the opposite of calming. They made her mad with desire, with want, with need.
Perhaps it all made him mad with desire as well because his low groans seemed to signal his own satisfaction. He was pleased with her reactions and for some reason, that was suddenly important. Shewanted him to know that he had the power to drive her to distraction. She released all the little sighs, moans, and squeals building within her.
His large hands finally reached her breasts, cupped them, and kneaded. His thumbs flicked over her nipples as his mouth flicked over sensitive flesh.
She threw her arms back, over her head, bent her hands at the wrists, and pressed her palms to the sturdy headboard. She began gyrating her hips, moving against his mouth, his lips, his tongue. Laying her knees on the bed like the spreading of butterfly wings, she pressed her feet against his buttocks. She did wish he wasn’t wearing trousers, but she didn’t want him to cease his ministrations in order to remove them.
Then her body began tensing, the pleasure building to a crescendo—
“Let go, Marlowe,” he ordered even as he continued feasting with urgency. “I’ll catch you.”
Suddenly profound pleasure shot through her and she was crying out, soaring among the stars, her back arching off the bed. His name was reverberating on the air around her.
Still he licked, but more slowly, leisurely. And with each swipe of his tongue, her body gave a little jolt. Until it had no more to give, and she lay there completely sated and replete.
Slowly, languorously, he prowled up her torso and wrapped his arms around her before flopping onto his back and drawing her up against his side. “I should think that would keep the nightmares away for a while.”
She released a low chuckle while settling morecomfortably into the curve of his shoulder and fiddling with a button on his shirt. “Will you stay?”
“If you like.”
“You could remove your shirt if it would make you more comfortable.”
“It would. I don’t mean to shock you, but I’m accustomed to sleeping in nothing at all.”
“You forget what I am if you think such a confession would shock me. Besides, I sleep in the nude as well.”
“Christ.” His arm briefly tightened around her. “By all means feel free to remove my shirt that you’re wearing.”
She didn’t know why she’d felt a need to try to unsettle him. Especially when he’d been kind enough to chase off her demons. “For propriety’s sake, my shirt will stay in place, and I think you should keep your trousers on.”
In tandem, as though they’d done it a thousand times, she eased away, he sat up, drew his shirt over this head, tossed it aside, dropped back against the pillow, and she settled in against his side as his arm came around her.
It was both reassuring and a bit unsettling to discover they were so in tune with each other.
“I wonder if my nightmares will last as many months as yours,” she said quietly.
“I shall hope not.”
It was strange how she was aware of him pondering something, knew a question was on the tip of his tongue. Finally it came.
“If you can’t steer the balloon, then how do you land where you need to?”
“I don’t have a destination, which is one of the things I like. The randomness of it. But I pay a young man to follow me in a wagon. He returns me and my balloon to London.”
“It doesn’t seem a very efficient means of travel.”
“I’ll have to take you up sometime.” But even as she said it, she doubted she ever would. Once she left here, it would be best to avoid him as much as possible. She was coming to like him far too much. Besides the sexual attraction between them was frightening.
