She blushed. “I know men prefer more curves, but your mother said I scared them all away on the practice yard, and I was doomed to be as thin as a bowstring.”
He chuckled. “Sweetheart, my mother didn’t have any idea what men prefer.” Her body was toned and sensual, and so damned arousing, he suspected that one day strength and firmness of flesh in women would become prized. “Besides, I have always preferred a bow.” He held her gaze. “You are perfect. So perfect that I’m going to have to insist you spend much more time practicing all those hand-to-hand combat moves—although not on the practice yard.”
Her brows drew together. “Then wh—?”
She didn’t have a chance to finish her question before he catapulted her back on his bed and pinned her with his body.
She gasped with surprise, and then smiled. “There is one problem with your plan.”
He lifted a brow challengingly. “What’s that?”
“What if I don’t want to get up? What if I like it exactly where I am?” She moved her hips so his erection fit snugly between her legs, the fat head nudging temptingly at her entrance. He rocked his hips a little, teasing her until her breath quickened with those throaty little gasps that drove him wild.
“Oh, I think you’ll want to get up, Caty.” He sunk in just a little, letting her take him in an inch or two before retreating. He felt her shudder with need, and it took every bit of his control not to sink in deep and give it all to her. “Weren’t you talking about learning new things? I didn’t think you were a quitter.”
He’d known she wouldn’t be able to resist that taunt. Just as he knew as soon as he gave her an opening he would be on his back.
He was—and more aroused than he could stand. The lass gave new meaning to the word “bedsport.” He had a feeling making love with Cate was going to be an entirely different experience—and one that would keep him on his toes for a while.
Maybe forever.
For once he did not push the thought away. He let it sit there, getting used to it.
“Now what?” she asked, looking down at him from her perch lying on top of him. His heartbeat jammed in his chest. Everything seemed to stop. She looked so damned sweet and yet so unconsciously sensual, with her dark eyes fixed on him, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, and her small, pert breasts thrusting proudly in the air. He wanted to hold on to this moment forever.
He drew his hand up to tuck a lock of silky dark hair behind her ear. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he pulled her mouth toward his, kissing her gently, tenderly, with long, slow pulls of his tongue.
But they were both too eager to wait for long.
“Get on your knees and straddle me,” he said roughly—huskily.
She looked confused for a minute, but then comprehension dawned. A warm glimmer of understanding spread across her face in a slow smile.
Gregor didn’t know whether her quick grasp of the situation should make him curse or drop to his knees in gratitude. How long before she realized who held all the power here?
Not long, if her quick mastery of the position meant anything. She braced her hands on his chest as she moved her hips over him. “Like this?” she said with a slow bob over his erection, which was pounding against his stomach angrily and not in any mood to play games.
Her breasts were too tempting. He had to reach out and cup the firm mounds in his hands, his fingers lightly plying the dark pink tips until they were as hard as two tiny pebbles.
She moaned, arching into his hands, and bobbed over him again, sliding his length between her legs this time, where he could feel the sweet heat and dampness. He made a sound of agonized pleasure and lifted his hips toward the tight, hot glove that he wanted gripping him.
“What do I do?” she asked, her breath uneven.
He could have shown her, but he wanted to let her be in charge and in control of her passion. “Put me inside you.”
He groaned when her fingers came around him, and she lifted her hips into position. Every muscle in his body flexed to hold still as she rubbed the heavy head against her slickness, looking for…
Oh God, yes. He groaned as she found it and started to lower her body on him, inch by inch. He was slick with sweat and near the end of his rope by the time she was fully impaled.
She drew her hands down the tight bands of his stomach and threw her head back, sinking deeper and savoring the pleasure of their bodies fully joined—connected. “You feel so good,” she said. “So big and thick—I love the way you fill me.”
He deserved a kingdom at least for not coming right there. The innocently erotic words sent hot bolts of pleasure from the base of his spine to the tip of his cock.
She moved a little and he nearly wept from the effort to stay still. From the effort not to take her hips and slide her up and down on top of him until they were both coming hard.
She was so tight…
“Ride me, Cate,” he gritted out. It wasn’t an order, but more of a plea.
