She shrugged. "I'm sure you want to get some sleep and I should--"
"Stay." He hauled her on top of him, the chuckle turning into a groan when she brushed against him. "You should stay. We're not done."
To prove it, he drove into her. A gasp escaped her, body bowing as he filled her to the brim.
"Far from it." He whispered and lifted his body to feast on her breasts.
*****
She woke to the strange feel of a man's leg trapping hers and his face buried between her breasts. At first she had no idea why she was in a strange bed, when the realization came flooding back. Not daring to move in case she woke him, Melanie took stock of the room. It was clearly a masculine one with sandalwood walls and large antique furnishings.
A heavily carved armoire towered towards the concave ceiling. The closet was so big, it had compartments, with dozens of shelves and a separate section for shoes. The man had enough clothing to outfit a small department store, she thought in amazement. A tan leather sofa curved around a highly polished table.
At one section of the wall, the fireplace was stocked with peat as if just waiting for the fire to get started. It was a lovely room and suited him to perfection.
She stirred slightly and that was enough to have him lifting his head. It was a long time since she had woken up in bed with a man and the shyness had her lowering her lashes and had her wondering what he saw when he looked at her.
"Hi." His voice was husky with sleep and something else.
"It's morning."
"So it is." The amusement colored his tone. "Hungry?"
"I should be going."
"Not yet."
"Look--"
"I want to cook you breakfast and thought we could go sailing." He had made love to her three times, and it was not nearly enough. He wanted to keep her here with him and was amazed at how quickly the passion had escalated.
Pushing back hairs clinging to her cheek, he brushed a kiss over her lips.
"I must look a wreck." She fumbled the words out and wished she could take them back when he laughed softly.
"Fishing for compliments, darling?"
The endearment had her going still, but he never noticed as he was too busy trailing his lips over her cheek.
"You look beautiful. Tousled and sexy--" He peppered the words with kisses. "Wanton--"
"Seriously?"
He was igniting fires inside her again. The man had wrung her dry last night, letting her think there was nothing left.
"Hmm. Delectable." He was nibbling on her bottom lip and driving all sensible thoughts from her head. "Delectable. I'm running out of adjectives." He was using the tip of his tongue to ease the tiny bites. "Addictive."
He swallowed her moan when his lips closed over hers. Sliding on top of her, he entered her moist warmth and felt his body jerking in response as she closed around him.
*****
"You cook." She murmured, watching as he sliced the ingredients to make a Spanish omelet. She had offered to help, but he had waved that away and told her to sit and decorate his wide blueish-gray marble counter.
His kitchen sent feelings of envy shimmering through her. Everything was spic and span. The kitchen itself was large, overlooking a densely populated wooded area, with a narrow walking trail and flowers blooming in profusion.
A small dining table was tucked beneath the large bay window. The appliances were ultra-modern gleaming silver. The chairs arranged artfully around the counter were cushioned and as soft as butter. Pots hung from the arched ceiling, giving it a homely look. It was her dream kitchen.
"I do." He glanced up at her and had to smile. She was wearing one of his shirts, a pale gold colored one that almost enveloped her slender frame. They had showered together. He had watched her trying to put some order to her natural hair and chuckled in delight at her surprise when he took the brush from her and finished the job. Now her hair was in one thick braid. With her face scrubbed of makeup, she looked like a teenager.
