Cowboy In The Crossfire(41)

His finger-light caress followed her neck and rested against her pulse point. Her heart skipped a beat in response.

"I make your heart race," he said quietly. He clasped her palm and slipped it beneath his sweater, holding it to his chest. "Feel what you do to me, Amanda."

The strong thud, the transparent passion on his face made her quake with want. "Please," she said as she clutched the flannel of his shirt.

The corner of his mouth tilted in satisfaction, but his hand moved slowly, dragging out the anticipation. He lowered his hand to her collarbone, trailed to her shoulder, baring the skin as he pushed aside the soft fleece of the sweatshirt, slipping his hand underneath.

"You're like silk."

Her nipples hardened and, as if reading her mind, his hand moved to the soft mound. He cupped her breast and his thumb flicked against the hard nub. A flash of pleasurable pain clenched in her lower abdomen. Her body sang with each mind-numbing caress.

He pulled away, leaving her panting, throbbing, her body begging for more.

She didn't speak. She grabbed his hand with hers and pressed it back to her breast. "Touch me," she said. "Hold me. Make me feel again."

She'd deal with the consequences of letting herself be vulnerable to him. Tomorrow. Right now she wanted to forget everything, and lose herself in his arms.

"I'm not letting you go."

His voice had gone low, turned into almost a growl. A frisson of anticipation pulsed through her at the intensity of his expression.

He backed her gently to the bed and tugged off her sweatshirt. She sank into the mattress, waiting and wanting. He paused as he looked at her. Bare breasts, nipples hard and begging for him, a bandage surrounding her torso. His gaze lowered and he touched the area of her injury. "Does it still hurt?"

"It's healing."

He lowered his head and tasted the curve of her breast. "Let's see if I can distract you." He closed his mouth over her nipple, and his tongue did things she never imagined possible. She squirmed underneath him as her body pulsed with desire, her legs grew restless. She wanted more.

She gripped his head, pulling him closer, but when her hand shifted beneath the wool of his sweater and she encountered the flannel material of his shirt, she moaned. "I want to touch you. I want to feel you," she said. "Take it off."

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes blazing with gold. He tugged off the heavy sweater in one motion. She tried to unbutton his shirt, but her hands shook. She couldn't catch hold, and he groaned in frustration.

He struggled with the top button, and for the first time, she realized his hands were shaking, too. He finally worked the button through the hole and drew the flannel over his head. He tossed it to the floor with a grunt and rubbed his hair-roughed chest against her sensitive breasts.

She shivered under him, relishing the feel. Each movement of his body tugged at her insides. Her thighs relaxed and parted. Even with their jeans separating their bare bodies, she could feel the hardness of him pressing against her, begging for entrance.

She caressed his back and tugged him closer, moving against him, trying to ease the ache building higher and higher. The strong muscles rippled beneath her touch. As she clutched at him, his chest vibrated with a low moan.

More than anything Amanda needed his strength, needed those strong arms to hold her close. She wanted, for a brief moment, to feel as if he would never let her go.

Blake lifted his body away, his eyes hooded, his gaze predatory. "If you don't want this, tell me now," he said.

With a trembling hand she touched his lips with her finger. He drew in the digit and bit the tip gently. "You're mine."

He shoved her jeans down her legs, then shucked out of his pants, but not before he snagged a foil packet from his back pocket. "A man has to hope," he said, shooting her an embarrassed smile.

Without giving her time to question or doubt, he rose over her, his entire body shaking with want and need. Blake didn't hide; he accepted his need. When had anyone been willing to show how much he wanted her? With his every touch, he evoked more and more sensation until finally she couldn't feel herself anymore. It was only them.

"Please," she panted as he nestled between her parted thighs. "Now."

"With pleasure." He prepared himself then sank inside her. His body shuddered. "You are beautiful."

She was whole. For the first time. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. He settled into a rhythm that took her spinning outside of herself. Everything he gave she returned until her body tightened. His pace quickened. With a groan of completion he sagged against her just as she fell over into an abyss of pleasure.

They were one, and she would never be the same again.

She didn't know how much time passed before he kissed her shoulder and slowly moved to her side. For a moment, his absence chilled her, then he tucked her against his shoulder. "You're amazing."

Her body shook from more than the passion as his warmth seeped into her. Her heart clung to him, trusted him. She'd given him more than her body. He owned a piece of her soul.

What had she done?

She shivered in his arms as he comforted her, whispered to her. How could she ever leave after that? But how could she not? She cared too much to see him hurt.

His touch lightened as Amanda feigned sleep.

She'd made everything worse. Before this moment, she'd only imagined what Blake could mean to her.