“Tell me,” he ordered, his voice sinfully dark and wicked.
“I want—” Her voice broke. “Like last time.”
“You want me to make you come?”
His voice spread an erotic veil around her, freeing her inhibitions. Never could she imagine such intimacy. All modesty vanished in the face of the desperate cravings of her body. “Please,” she begged.
He chuckled and buried his face against her. He kissed her harder, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “I love the way you taste, like warm honey.” His words drove her wild, but his tongue made her touch heaven. Sensation gripped her, and she felt the desperate climb as the tingling turned into a frantic pulse. Just when she thought she could not take any more, his mouth pressed against her most sensitive spot and sucked. She exploded, pulsing her release against his wicked mouth.
Isabel felt boneless, utterly spent. As contented as a well-fed cat. He read her expression and laughed. “I’m not done with you yet, my sweet. That was just the beginning.”
He braced himself above her, lifting his chest and extending his arms, one hand placed on each side of her shoulders.
She opened her eyes, struggling to pierce the haze of passion that had engulfed her. With his body braced above hers, she had a perfect view of his powerful chest. Her hands moved slowly up his arms, caressing the hard muscle under her fingertips. Just touching him roused her passion. She took the time to examine the various scars peppering his torso, tracing them gently with her fingers. He embodied power and virility. Under the shield of his broad, powerful chest, paradoxically both warm and as hard as cold steel, she felt incredibly vulnerable, but completely safe. Powerwasintoxicating, she realized, but not in the way her uncle desired. The raw strength she felt as she explored his body was much more enticing, much more overwhelming. His was a power of protection. She sensed that when he held her in his arms, nothing would ever harm her.
She knew her touch was making him crazy. But she wanted more. Aching to feel him, she reached between them and traced a light trail down the cords of muscle lining his stomach. His body clenched. He seemed unable to move or breathe as her hand slid down his belly. Isabel smiled, enjoying the moment of control.
Slowly, she found him.
This time, no plaid separated the feel of her hand encircling him. She felt his body stiffen as her hand wrapped around the velvety skin of his arousal. Isabel was shocked at the feel of rigid steel surrounded by the softest skin she could imagine. She explored his length with her fingers. Glancing shyly at him from under her long lashes, she was surprised to see his face contorted in pain. His eyes were hooded, his teeth clenched, the hollows beneath his high cheekbones even more pronounced.
“Show me.”
She didn’t know if he heard her. Then he slowly opened his eyes. “I don’t think I can,” he whispered tightly.
“Please.”
The small entreaty seemed to break him. He taught her to find his rhythm. Fascinated, she watched his face as she brought him to the edge of surrender—astonished by her ability to arouse him. She felt the power in him waiting to explode. A warm feeling of tenderness enveloped her heart as she watched the pleasure of her touch transform his features with unbridled passion. She was the master of this powerful warrior. She held him in her hand. He was hers.
“Enough.” He unfurled her fingers from his length. “I cannot wait any longer.”
His hand moved between her legs. He eased a finger between her folds and groaned. “Do you see how your body wants me?” He leaned down to kiss her. “You’re already wet for me again.”
He grabbed her hips and lifted her to him, slowly moving his staff between her legs. He teased her with the thick round head, sliding along her damp opening until heat flooded between her legs. She opened wider, and he eased himself in inch by inch. Her body tensed, instinctively fighting the invasion. He was too big. Too thick. Too much. Sensing her fear, jaw clenched with restraint, he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Isabel, trust me. It will hurt only for a moment.”
And before she could think, he plunged deep inside her, tearing through the web of her innocence.
He covered her cry with his mouth. Isabel stiffened with the pain. She felt as though she’d been ripped in two. She pressed against his chest, trying to push him off her. But he wouldn’t budge.
“God, you feel good,” he groaned. “Trust me, Isabel. Relax. Feel me in you. Concentrate on my mouth.” He kissed her again, wooing her. Teasing her, making her forget, and, finally, easing the pain.
Slowly, she felt her body come alive again. The sensation of him inside her was unlike anything she’d ever imagined. He filled her, claimed part of her that she never knew existed.
He began to move, easing himself in and out. She felt the fever return as the movements quickened. She reached up to grab his shoulders, steadying herself against his hard thrusts. Instinctively, she lifted her hips to meet his masterful strokes.
Isabel was acutely aware of the slow building within her, a building even more intense than before. He pounded harder, faster, deeper. Frantically, she raked her fingers down his back, clutching his rock hard buttocks as she felt it coming closer. And closer. Her pulse contracted. Heart beating rapidly, she clasped her legs around him and let herself go, exploding with a violent release. Shattering into thousands of pieces like shards of broken glass tossed over a cliff.
As she quivered with the contractions of her exploding passion, he clutched her bottom and lifted her hips, driving into her one last time, filling her completely. Throwing his head back with a roar, he stiffened with his release, spilling his seed deep in her. They clutched each other, rolling on the tide of their shared climax. Where there had been two, there was now one. Joined together in perfect surrender, floating on the crashing waves of heaven’s most magnificent ocean.
Rory collapsed on top of her. Neither wanted to break the connection that joined them in the sultry cocoon of the silk-curtained bed. The warm air was thick and damp, burgeoning with the musky scent of spent passion. Still tingling, Isabel felt the waves of passion slowly ebb around him. The fevered pace of her heart began to slow. Her breathing steadied. Finally, with seeming reluctance, Rory rolled off her, gently pulling her naked body close to his. Isabel savored the way their damp bodies slid together—molding perfectly in a delightful tangle of limbs.
A warm, prickly happiness unlike anything she had ever experienced crept through her weary bones. Sighing with contentment, she snuggled closer to the warm strength next to her and closed her eyes. Never had she suspected that such beauty or closeness could exist. She wanted to hold on to this man forever.
But could it last? Refusing to allow any nefarious implications to cloud the blissful moment, she concentrated instead on the steady beat of his heart—lulling her into a wonderfully exhausted and well-sated sleep.
Chapter 16
Isabel woke to the gentle warmth of the morning sun streaming through her window and to Rory awakening her in an altogether different manner. She felt his arousal pressed firmly against her bottom, but this time he did not jump from bed. This time she felt his fingers caress her until her body dampened with desire. Holding her hips, he slid in from behind. Filling her. Wedged between her thighs, he felt even bigger and thicker than before, but rather than cause pain, the sensation took her breath away.
