She wrapped her hands around his neck, sinking into him, crushing her breasts against his magnificent chest. A chest that was every inch as hard and unyielding as it looked, but so much hotter. She could feel everything, the thin linen of her shirt a paltry barrier. But what would it be like to feel his skin on hers? To feel her nipples rake that hot, steely flesh?
She let her hands slide over his broad, muscular shoulders and down the rippling bulges of his arms. Her fingers clenched, unconsciously testing his rock-hard strength. His muscles flared, flexing even harder.
She shivered, a deep feminine thrill of appreciation shuddering through her. To be so beset by a few muscles—no matter how impressive—was really quite lowering. But there was something deeply arousing about his physical strength. About a man who was built not only to assail but to defend and protect.
She loved the way it felt to have those big arms wrapped around her, all those hard slabs of muscle cradling her softness.
One big hand was splayed over her bottom possessively. He pressed her closer, nestling her against him and letting her feel just how much he wanted her.
If the size of him was any indication, it was quite a lot.
Quite a lot indeed.
She squirmed. Moaned. A rush of heat pooled between her legs at the visceral reminder of just how good it would feel.
He groaned, and the sound reverberated down to her toes. His hand plunged through her hair to cup her head and bend her back. She opened her mouth wider. Drinking him in. Meeting the slow, insistent strokes of his tongue with her own.
They were drowning in heat, in desire, and in each other. She never wanted it to end.
Lachlan knew this wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t seem to stop kissing her. She just tasted so good.
Lust, he reminded himself.It’s only lust. This tightness in his chest, this wave of warmth that came over him each time he looked into her eyes, the overwhelming need to give her pleasure, didn’t mean a damned thing.
He’d always seen to a woman’s pleasure. He’d realized as a lad that if he made a woman happy, she made him happy. Very happy. But never had it seemed sovital, and never had a woman’s pleasure increased his own.
It didn’t mean anything, he told himself again. To prove it, he kissed her harder. Let his tongue delve into the delicious recesses of her mouth. Let his hands roam over every inch of her incredible body.
She was so sweet. Slim and delicate around her waist and back but generously curved in her chest and hips.
He slowed, weighing one of her breasts in his hand and savoring the heady sensation of holding all that soft, lush flesh. Squeezing gently, he caressed the taut nipple with his thumb as his tongue drew slow, lazy circles in her mouth.
Fast and furious, he reminded himself. But damn it, he didn’t want it to end. He could go on kissing her forever. Her mouth was so soft and sweet, her responses so eager. And those soft little sounds of hers seemed to wrap right around his heart and make him want to hold her in his arms forever.
Lust, damn it.
But she was dragging him in. Taking him to a place he didn’t want to go. Tempting him to gentleness with each tender, heartfelt stroke of her tongue, trying to wrest something from him that he didn’t want to give.
And succeeding, damn it. His chest tightened. Squeezed. Filled with something warm and soft.
Whatever was happening to him, he didn’t like it. He couldn’t let it happen again. Hell, who was he kidding? Nothing had ever felt like this before. It wasn’t just desire. It was something deeper. Something more intense. Something that wasn’t for him.
Shewasn’t for him, damn it. She came with too many conditions—too many expectations.
He needed to get this back on the right track. He tore his mouth away.
She blinked, trying to see through the passion-filled haze that clouded her big, blue eyes. Her long, pale hair shimmered in the firelight, tumbling around her face in wildly sensual disarray.
He clenched his jaw, steeling himself against the nearly irresistible pull of her swollen, gently parted red lips and husky little sharp intakes of breath.
“Take off your clothes.”
She blinked again, fluttering her ridiculously long lashes. “What?”
His eyes held hers. “I want you naked when I fuck you.”
A small frown gathered between her brows. He steeled himself against the stab in his chest. If she wanted this, they were going to do it on his terms. In a way that could leave no doubt of what it meant.
She hesitated. For a moment he thought she’d refuse, but then understanding cleared away the confusion. She held his gaze, eyes narrowed, silently challenging him with a shrewd look that saw far too much. “That’s how it’s going to be, is it?”
