“Devil take it.” He threw the garment aside.
But now he was as naked as she, and her eyes ran down his body. He was every bit as muscled as he’d promised last night. And now she suddenly felt shy. He was so…male. His body built for power and movement while she was small and soft andsuddenly felt every bit of her inexperience. Down there…he was hard and big, and nothing like the man whose acorn stub she’d hastily sketched at Thornton’s.
“Feeling inspired?” Jack said with a grin. Her eyes flew back up to his with a guilty start.
He came back to the bed, his smile reassuring. He kissed her, coaxing her to lie down with him once more. “We don’t have to,” he said between soft kisses, his mouth on her cheek, her throat, skimming over her frantic pulse. “We can kiss, or touch. It’s more than enough for me.”
“Don’t you want to?”
Jack husked a laugh, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before looking up, both heat and amusement in his eyes. “More than you could believe. But only if you do.”
“I do.”
He bowed his head, half a nod, confirmation, and his mouth skated down her chest as his hand came up to cup her bare breast. She gasped at the same time he groaned. Then she groaned too because his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue swirling over her hardened bud, andoh—she hadn’t known anything could feel likethat.
She gasped as he kissed her there again and again, his tongue making her writhe. Then he started all over again on her other breast. But her spiralling thoughts leapt back down to earth as his hand moved down to her thigh then in between her legs.
Yes, she wanted him there, everything urged it, but she was tense too. She twitched at the first touch. It was so….so unbelievably sensitive. Gently, his fingers stroked the centre of her, and he gave a muffled curse.
“You’re so…”
“What? What is it?”
“No, it’s good, it’s right…oh God, Lucy, you feel like heaven.”
He made a low, hungry, needy noise as his fingers swirled and slid against her, then one pressed against her entrance, and pushed slowly inside. Lucy gave a grunt.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he breathed.
“No…”
He moved the finger, slowly at first, backwards and forwards, entering her more deeply each time. The sensation made her see stars. His thumb pressed the sensitive area above, and she shuddered at a new surge of pleasure. Whimpering, saying his name, she gripped his shoulder, her other hand on the back of his neck, and he paused, looking down at her.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You know what happens?”
“The…the basics.”
“Tell me to stop, whenever you want.”
She gave a tiny nod, though her heart was racing so furiously she barely knew what she did. “I trust you, Jack.” It was a whisper. “You won’t hurt me.”
Something crossed his face as he looked down at her. His grey eyes were so close, so direct and raw and open on hers. “Not on purpose, my love.” There was pain mingled into the confession he made. An admittance of guilt. “Never on purpose.”
She smiled—even with him holding all the overwhelming weight and heat and hunger of himself over her, still she could smile and not be afraid. “But you’re a clumsy oaf, I know.”
A little wickedness crept into his expression. “Not at this. I assure you.”
He kissed her—very, very softly—then he gently moved her thighs apart as he settled between them, holding his weight on one elbow—his hand sliding under her nape to cradle her head. His other took her hand and brought it to the hot thickness of him.
“Here.” He gently wrapped her fingers around him, closing his on top. “You should…you should know what it is before…”
It was startling how hard it was, how velvet soft the hot skin, how alive and how…how insistent…as it throbbed and twitched in her grip. He coaxed her tentative hand up and down, and his eyes squeezed shut. He almost looked in pain, and it gave her courage to know all this sensation was having such an effect on him too. His breathing wasn’t steady. He wasn’t quite in control; instead he was right here in this moment with her, gentle even in his lust, her friend even as he claimed her body, and loving… He brought her hand away and kissed her palm, his eyes on hers. She saw it there, his love for her, true and real and entirely unguarded—why would he ever need to guard anything from her? She saw that too, his trust and his faith in her, in them, in what they were together.
“May I take you, Lucy?”
