Page 80 of Darkness Bound (Night Prowler 5)
“I need you, Lucas,” she said, begging softly against his mouth. “Please. Please!”
It was that final, soft plea that broke through the last of his tenuous restraint. With a strangled oath, he leaned in and kissed her so ravenously he thought he might draw blood.
She made a little squeal of pleasure when he broke the kiss, panting, to take her breasts into his mouth. First one nipple, then the other, feeling so greedy and out of his mind he was sucking hard, using lips and tongue and teeth to taste her, growling like an animal, unable to restrain himself, kneading her soft flesh as he ran his tongue over and over and around those hard puckered nubs, loving how they grew even harder as he suckled them.
“Yes,” she groaned, arching back into his hands, shivering. “God, yes, please, yes!”
He remembered how she was the first time at the hotel, totally unrestrained and uninhibited, and she was the same now, grinding her pelvis into his erection, pulling his hair so hard it was painful, begging him in gasped breaths to taste her, kiss her, be inside her.
And he loved it. He loved every mad, wild, breathless second of it.
He loved it even more this time because he knew her, he knew how strong and brave and wonderful she was . . . and because he knew it had to end.
“I can make you come,” he panted, breaking away from her beautiful breasts to stare up at her face. “This doesn’t have to be for me. I can give you what you need without . . . I don’t want . . . I don’t need—”
“Don’t you dare!” she said vehemently, grabbing hold of his face and staring at him, going from lusty to livid with whiplash speed. “Don’t you say another bullshit word! Don’t you ever lie to me again, Lucas, do you understand me? Never!”
He stared back at her, speechless, his body threatening to erupt into flames if he couldn’t get inside her.
“That’s right,” she whispered, gentling, satisfied by whatever she saw on his face. She kissed him again, the most tender kiss he’d ever had in his life. “Your eyes tell me everything, Lucas. Your eyes say, ‘I do need,’ and ‘I do want,’ and ‘I do care,’ no matter how much your mouth says the opposite. So I’m telling your mouth to shut up. Let’s let your eyes do the talking from now on, okay?”
She was looking at him, waiting for an answer, her pulse beating hard and fast in the hollow of her throat.
How can you see me? How can you see inside me like this? How can you undo me with a single look?
Hawk was overcome by the wave of emotion that swept over him. He felt bare, naked, like she’d stripped away every layer of steel he’d laid over his heart and it lay there raw and vulnerable inside his chest, beating just for her, just because of the man she made him feel like when she looked at him like this. At that moment he understood with excruciating clarity why a man would kill for or die for a woman, why he would protect her with his own life, why he would lay his soul at her feet and swim through shark-infested waters to get her a lemonade if that’s what she asked him to do.
/> He would do anything, give anything, to have this woman look at him forever the way she was looking at him right now.
For the first time in his life, Hawk felt as if he belonged. Here in this room with her in his arms, in deepening twilight with the rain singing a sad, soft melody through the trees, he felt like he was finally home.
Looking into his eyes she whispered, “Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too.”
He closed his eyes to hide the moisture welling up, afraid he would drown in this river of insanity.
Gone. She’d be gone in days or weeks . . . and this feeling of beautiful homecoming, of rightness, would leave with her.
But then she kissed him, and he forgot about tomorrow, forgot about anything else.
There was only her. There was only the two of them. Together. Alone.
He tore his shirt off over his head, throwing it across the room. They kissed again, frantic, hungry, and he loved the feel of her breasts against his bare chest. He crushed her against him, even in his reckless fever mindful to avoid hurting her, and she stripped off his belt and unzipped his pants, finding the way of it even without breaking the kiss.
She pushed him down on the bed with a hand on his chest, yanked his pants down to his hips, and with both hands wrapped around his swollen shaft, slid his erection into her mouth.
He groaned, loud and broken, his head tipped back into the mattress, body bowed. His eyes slid shut as she stroked him with her tongue, sucking and wanton and wonderful. He slid his hands into her hair and cradled her head, helpless against the pleasure of her mouth, his hips flexing instinctively, thrusting up into all that amazing hot wetness, every muscle in his body straining.
He moaned her name as she took him all the way to the base.
He smelled rain and heard the distant rumble of thunder, felt the crackle of lightning in the air, felt himself on the verge of cracking wide open, the pleasure so intense it threatened to push him into oblivion.
Too soon!
“Jacqueline,” he rasped. “Please.” He only managed the two words but she understood. Still holding his stiff shaft in one hand, she sat up, crawled atop him, and sank down on top of his erection, until he was fully seated inside her.
God—tight—beautiful! His breath rushed out in a hiss.
She leaned over and kissed him. He sank his fingers into her bottom and thrust up, hard. She cried out and he thrust again, loving her expression of pure pleasure, loving the way her nails dug into his shoulders as she clung to him, gasping, riding him and rubbing her breasts against his chest. She arched back and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, nipping with his teeth, nipping harder when she moaned how good it felt, encouraging him with her hands around his neck and her hips undulating with each of his thrusts.
