She lifted her chin, raised a brow. “Why, I don’t know, Giff. What is a man to do?”
“I guess I’ll have to show you.”
He took his time and that left her a little weak and trembling. The night before, everything had poured over her in a hot rush. Need on top of pleasure, pleasure clawing at need. But today, in the cool air and dim light, his hands were slow, calluses scraping gently over her skin, fingers pressing, then skimming. And though his mouth was hot, it didn’t hurry. It came back to hers again and again, as if hers was the only flavor he needed.
When she sighed, it came from deep within.
She could be seduced as well as taken. He’d waited a lifetime to do both, to watch her let him do both. There was nothing about her that wasn’t precious to him. Now he could show her, inch by inch. One day soon he would tell her, word by word.
When he slipped inside her, her moan of welcome was sweet and silky. He braced himself over her to give more, to take more, and his pace was as lazy as the river that flowed nearby.
She whimpered when he lowered his head to suck gently on her breasts.
“You come first,” he murmured. “So I can see you.”
She couldn’t have stopped herself. She was being carried along like a weightless leaf on the river’s current. The orgasm flowed through her, long and lovely and deep. She could barely sigh out his name as it slid through her system.
His mouth came back to hers as it curved, and he emptied himself into her.
“Mmmm.” It was all she could manage as he rolled her over and snuggled her head on his chest. She’d never had a climax like that—one that crept up from the toes like silk-dipped fingers.
And he’d seemed so in control, so completely aware of her. Only the thunder of his heart under her cheek proved that he’d been as undone as she.
She smiled again, and turned her lips to his chest. “You must have done a lot of practicing.”
He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the air on his face and her hair under his hand. “I’m a strong believer that you keep working on a skill until you get it right.”
“I’d say you got it right.”
“I’ve wanted you all my life, Lexy.”
It made something inside her shiver to hear him say it, so simple, so easy. Caught in the afterglow, she lifted her head, and when she looked at him, that something shivered again. “I guess, deep down, I’ve always wanted you too.”
When his eyes opened, and the look in them made her mouth go dry, she put on a sassy grin. “But you used to be so skinny.”
“You used to be flat-chested.” She chuckled when he reached down to cup her breasts. “Things do change.”
Scooting up, she straddled him. “And you used to pull my hair.”
“You used to bite me. I’ve still got your teeth marks back of my left shoulder.”
Laughing, she shook her hair back. It was going to be painful to brush the tangles out, but she had to admit, it had been well worth it. “You do not.”
“Hell I don’t. Mama calls it my Hathaway brand.”
“Let’s just see.” She tugged at him until he rolled toward his side. She peered down, squinted, though she could see the faint white scar clearly enough. Her brand. It gave her an odd little thrill to know he carried it. “Where? I don’t see anything.” She shifted closer. “Oh, you mean that little thing? Why, that’s nothing. I can do much better now.”
Before he could defend himself, she clamped her teeth on his shoulder. He yelped, flipped her over, and rolled until they were tangled in the blanket. His hands managed to reach here, reach there so that she was as breathless with freshening desire as with laughter.
“I’d say it’s time I put my mark on you.”
“Don’t you dare bite me, Giff.” She giggled, struggled, rolled. “Ouch! Damn it.”
“I didn’t bite you yet.”
“Well, something did.”
He moved fast, visions of snakes slicing into his brain. He rolled her, gained his feet, and scooped her into his arms in one lightning move. Her jaw dropped open as she watched his eyes, suddenly hard and cold, scan the ground.
