She moved lower, her knees pressed into the bed on either side of him. She was wide open, ready for him, and wanting him so desperately she had to fight the urge to sink herself onto him and give them both what they craved.Not yet.
She’d never felt so powerful, so special, and she wanted the feeling to continue just a little longer. Wanted them both on the edge so that when relief finally came she could hold on to the feeling and never, ever let it go.
“I want you, Kyra.” His hands stroked her back, her bottom, urging her over him. His voice was raw, and she felt a surge of power knowing that he was on the very edge of control and that she was the one who had taken him there. She could feel the hard length of him pressed against her, ready. Ready for her. With slow, languid movements, she writhed against him, knowing that he too was at the brink.
“Oh, God, Kyra, you’re driving me crazy.”
She lowered her mouth to his lips, brushed a soft kiss over them. “Am I?”
“Vixen,” he said, a tease in his voice. His handsgrazed her back, his skin rough against her rear. He cupped her bottom and she moved forward, desperate to let him touch her there, everywhere.
She moaned, deep and needy when his finger slipped inside her, and she pressed against him, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him, all of him.
“Payback, sweetheart,” he said, tormenting her by taking his finger away.
She met his eye, saw the same passion reflected there that burned through her. With a silent prayer that she wouldn’t fumble and destroy the mood, she got the little packet open and managed to sheath him.
“Now. Oh, yes, please. Now.”
Arching her back, she lifted herself, then moved down, impaling herself on the length of him. She gasped as he filled her, body and soul. He reached up, his hands stroking her breasts, fondling rock-hard nipples, and she swallowed a moan.
She rocked against him, needing everything he could give. Through a haze of passion, she felt one of his hands slip down, grazing the skin of her belly, leaving a trail of hot, hyperaware flesh. He moved lower and lower still, then slipped his hand between their joined bodies.
“You’re so slick,” he murmured. “You feel wonderful. Kiss me.”
She complied readily, bending forward, increasing the pressure of him inside her and stroking her. He seemed to be touching her everywhere, and she closedher mouth hungrily over his, as joined as two people could possibly be.
They stayed that way, moving against each other, colors swirling around her while the wind outside the cabana howled, the storm building even as the pressure inside her built. Faster and faster, tighter and tighter, she tried to hang on, tried to make it last, but in the end, she had to let herself go, and she arched back, holding on to his waist as the world exploded around them in a fit of colors and stars.
She drew in a breath. “Wow.”
His smile was gentle, and he reached up to stroke her face. “I’d say that pretty much covers it. Come here.”
He urged her lower until she was curled up next to him, their bodies slick from the sweat of lovemaking. He stroked her side, sending little shockwaves ricocheting through her.
“You better be careful. I might have to jump you again,” she teased.
“Is that a promise?” He kissed her nose, then pulled her closer.
“Maybe it is.” She shifted against him, wanting every part of her to be touching some part of him.
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked, his voice sleepy.
“Lucky?”
“To find you.”
“Oh.” No one had ever made her feel so important, so special, and her eyes welled. She blinked, frustrated.“I guess I just like my men heroic,” she said lightly. “Rescue me from a tree, and I’m yours.”
“So that’s the trick,” he said.
She thought she caught a hint of sadness in his voice, but she dismissed it as a product of her own, overemotional state. She’d done the right thing, gathering up her courage for this sensual adventure. She was sure of it. They meshed somehow, his lightest touch waking every part of her body.
But even more than the pure, simple thrill of his touch, the truth was, he’d struck a nerve. Touched some part of her she hadn’t expected. He made her feel desirable and feminine. He actually wanted her—not because of her family, not because of her company, not even because everyone expected it. He’d simply seen her and wanted her. And, heaven help her, she’d wanted him right back.
It couldn’t be permanent. She knew that, though she wanted to pretend it would last forever. She already had something permanent waiting for her in Dallas. Permanent, responsible. The life she was born to. The responsibilities she couldn’t escape.
She’d have Michael for the week. She’d have his memory for the rest of her life.
