Stroke of Midnight (Nightcreature #1.5)(67)

"That's not what I meant." He just stared at her.

"Oh…" She leaned over and turned on the spigot, then got on her knees. She had to stop looking at his intense hazel gaze. "If it's any consolation, it's breaking mine, too." She put her head under the water and closed her eyes. She turned the cold faucet on full blast. Oh, no… she hadn't misread him, had heard every word he'd said just as it had been intended. But the fact that he'd made her just say what was on her mind, so openly, made her cheeks burn. It sent the butterflies loose within her again, and then something imploded like a sudden heat.

While her admission was profound, if he was reading her right, it didn't help matters in the least, since it was obvious that she wasn't prepared to take things to the next level. If she had been, she wouldn't have turned on the water and begun washing the conditioner out. He watched her struggle to do it unassisted, loving the conflict as it unfolded, her towel sliding away, and then she'd grab it, trying to tuck it so it wouldn't fall while trying to get her head farther under the spigot.

"It hasn't even been three minutes yet. You're rushing it."

"I know," she said, almost out of breath. "It's hard to do it by yourself."

"Don't I know it," he said, finally going to help her. "Then why didn't you let it sit there for a few more, and wait it out? Patience is a virtue, I'm told."

"That's always been my weak point," she said, glancing up at him with a look that made him stop rinsing her tresses. "I'm trying to get this stuff out of my hair so it doesn't mess up the bed."

What was she doing! The words had just tumbled out of her mouth. Humiliation paralyzed her.

He blinked twice, then almost fell in the tub as he pulled her up, hair dripping, water still running, and kissed her hard. The inside of her mouth had the consistency of raw honey, mint hit his nose, and his tongue tangled with hers till he couldn't breathe. He broke away, took a huge gulp of air, and buried his face in her wet hair, then dragged his jaw down the side of her neck. Her immediate gasp blurred his vision, it hit his system so hard, just like her wet form molding to his bare chest did, her satin skin pure butter under his palms.

She almost passed out when he scored her throat where it had once been bitten. He didn't understand what he was about to unleash. But as his strong arms enfolded her, and he smelled so good… his pulse beat so hard, and Great Spirit help her, she'd never felt like this in her life. Her hands trembled as they slid up his back, the muscles within it pure cable. The way he tasted made her weak in the knees.

"Why didn't you just say so?" he murmured hotly against her ear, then captured her mouth before she could answer. Then she did something that almost made him pass out. She bit his shoulder and gently dragged her teeth up the side of his throat while her palms slid down his chest, one hand finding the middle of his back, the other finding the center of his groin, all in one fluid, graceful, feline motion. It forced the air from his lungs as her grip on his length tightened, and the sudden expulsion of air came out as a ragged groan combined with a gasp.

He didn't even feel it when his back banged the door on the way out of the bathroom. All he was aware of was her as he lifted her up and kept kissing her while walking, knowing his way to the bed blind. Her arms were around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, the attention she paid to his neck at the jugular was bringing tears to his eyes. He had read every signal wrong, but he was clear about this one. Caution was the wind itself, fleeting, unimportant, and something neither of them could summon.

They fell so hard they almost took out a slat in the bed. He fought with his jeans as her legs threaded around his and she arched. He felt a bite at his throat that made him see colors beneath his lids. He heard her whisper, "I'm sorry," and he couldn't even answer her, it felt so damned good. He returned the kiss hard, and then bit her neck even harder, and the sound she released almost made him release in his jeans.

She helped him push the barrier down to his knees, and when he entered her the sound of his voice was foreign to his own ears. The sensation was so immediately explosive that he had to look at a point on the wall for moment to hold back the inevitable. But when she leaned up and took one of his nipples into her mouth, his eyes literally crossed. The way she held his back made her part of his skin, and the way her pelvis worked in unison against his created pinpoints of light inside his head. He could feel them both sliding to the edge of the bed, about to go over the side of it as he began chanting her name on every other thrust. Then she called him by name, his real name, on a heave that became a shudder, which transformed into a jerking spasm that made him go blind for a moment when his body convulsed with hers so hard that he was sure he'd stripped a gear and had a hernia.

He couldn't even shout what his mind was screaming, it felt so good. Oh, God… Aftershocks were slamming him, her body was still moving, it was pleasure so profound that tears were running down the bridge of his nose. Jesus… I've never felt anything like this in my life. This woman had called him like that by name.

It took a while for him to stop panting and to get enough air into his lungs. He looked at the tiny goddess under him and kissed her forehead, too afraid of what her lush mouth could do to him. Her eyes were closed; tears stained her cheeks, her hands caressed his shoulders, then she sobbed as she stroked his hair. Oh, yes, he was a blessed man. So what that he'd never made it to the hidden box of protection in the bag? Yeah, he'd marry her. Whatever. All he knew was, he wasn't letting this one go. Uh-huh, make it last forever, baby.