Page 24 of Laird Of Her Heart

When the band encasing her breasts dropped away, he stilled. The breath locked in his lungs. Lord above, she was beautiful. Her scent—an undeniable arousal, tangled with something earthy and sweet—rose to meet him.

She opened her arms to him and he came to her. No force on earth could have stopped him.

He settled over her—glorying in the sleekness of her skin, of the sensation of her soft body pressing up into his hardness—and cupped her breasts, molded them, tasted them. He couldn’t resist the coral target that possessed his attention. As his lips closed on her thrusting nipple, she moaned, wriggled. She was delicious. Delight danced through him.

As he sank into his explorations, her hands roved as well, over his chest, his belly. The noises she made incited him to madness—moans and sighs and wordless grunted commands. She wrapped herself around him, pulling him deeper into the kiss and raking his back with her nails.

Oh, Lord. Give me strength.

He had intended to prepare her, to launch a slow, sweet seduction. But such restraint was beyond him. Something about her incited a need that bordered on feral. A need to claim her, have her.

He did, however, take a moment to test her, to stroke her cleft. He loved that she spread her legs for him, without a word of request. He loved that her breath came in pants, that her eyes were wild, and her body quivered with need. She shuddered as his fingers scraped over the thick bundle of nerves nested at her core. To his utter gratification, it was slick. He ventured deeper, slipped down and in and— Holy heaven.

She was ready. So ready.

And tight.

Every muscle clenched. His gaze snapped to hers. Burned into hers. “Maggie…” A harsh growl. A snarl.

“Yes.” She wrapped his hair in her fist and yanked; his hunger spiraled out of control. “Yes.”

He fisted his cock and nudged her entrance. Her thighs widened. She stared at him, eyes wide, nostrils flared. Lips moving in a chant. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

He thrust, hard and deep.

She wailed her pleasure and arched her hips up, inviting him deeper still.

She was delicious. Delightful. Perfect. She held him hard and fast with the muscles of her sheath, clinging to him with a damp heat. His mind whirled, his chest locked. It was beyond perfect. It was heaven.

But need clawed. He pulled out—though it was torturous to do so—he pulled out and then lunged again.

And again.

And again.

She went wild beneath him, a she-wolf, snarling and raging and nipping at this skin in her frenzy. “Yes, Deeper. Harder.”

He could not deny her. Indeed, he did not want to.

He cupped her ass in his palms and lifted her and, using her body as leverage, launched into a barrage of manic thrusts. From this direction and that, exploring her, invading her, possessing her completely.

Her head whipped from side to side. She writhed beneath him, closed her thighs on his hips. Her body tightened.

A quiver began deep in her core. It walked through his cock, through his body as well to settle in the base of his solar plexus. Rivulets of delight trickled through him, pooled, swelled.

He felt her tension mount and it enflamed his. His vision, his consciousness, his world closed in on one thing. The place where they joined, the heavenly connection where they were one.

His plunges became short and hard, desperate and crazed. He knew she was close but he could not, would not release until she’d found her bliss. He would hold back until that moment. He would wait for her. But it cost him. Sweat beaded on his brow. His heart hammered. His breath locked.

Please. Please. Please…

She released. It was not a peaceful surrender. She was passionate and powerful in her crisis. Her hold on him was fierce, her mouth hot as she roved over his shoulders, licking, nibbling and nipping with a mindless zeal.

And her hold on him… That tight grip on his wet and weeping cock. It made his vision blur, made his mind lock. Made his body fold in on itself.

In an agonizing, blinding rush of ecstasy, he erupted, flooding her with his seed, soaking her with his essence.

Though he was utterly drained, he continued to move, prolonging the pleasure for them both, though his thrusts were slow, easy, soothing.