The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(36)

“So kiss me.” She reached up and touched his face. “Spike, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Kiss me….”

He hesitated and she thought for a moment he was going to use his mouth for talking. But then his head came down and his lips were soft on hers. He kissed her for so long, his tongue lazy and slow in her mouth, that she began to wonder whether they were going to end up doing anything else. Which, considering the way his lips moved over hers, was no great sacrifice.

But then he slowly pushed up her shirt so the cotton pooled at her collarbone.

“Oh…Mad…” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

His hand traveled up over her rib cage and cupped one of her breasts lightly. As he gently learned her contours, his head dipped down and found her neck…then went lower until his mouth closed over her nipple. As he sucked and kissed, she grabbed on to his head, urging him closer, wanting more, wanting it all.

When he slid her panties down, she didn’t really notice. But as soon as his hand skimmed over her thighs and dipped between them, she jerked.

“This okay?” he said hoarsely, pulling back.

“Yes…oh, yes. Just…surprised.”

When he touched her heat, it was so softly she barely knew what he was doing. What she registered instead was the way he shuddered with an erotic little spasm, his whole body trembling, his hips surging.

“Mad,” he whispered. “Oh…Mad.”

The rest of what he said was lost as he kissed her and touched her with sensual care, knowing exactly what felt good.

She pushed her hands between their bodies, reaching for his hips, wanting him to know the same heat and spiraling urgency. But he held her hands away from his arousal.

“No, don’t touch me.”

“Why—”

“I need to stay in control. This has to be good for you.” His lips came down on hers and he stroked her core once again. “You’re so soft here. You make me…crazy.”

His body was tight all over, except for when he shivered, and the more he pleasured her with his hand, the more they both became aroused. And she knew exactly how much he wanted her. It was in his parted lips, the flush on his cheeks, his rapt breathlessness, his straining muscles…but most of all it was in the reverent, greedy way his yellow eyes looked at her.

Abruptly, he changed his touch, demanding, driving. She grabbed on to his shoulders and gasped, kicking her head back. She was swept away in him, by him, the heat growing and growing.

“I want you to fly for me,” he said in her ear, his voice a thrilling rasp. “Let yourself go. I promise I’ll hold you. But fly for me, Madeline. I need it. I need to see it.”

When she shattered apart, he was there, whispering to her, telling her she was beautiful, riding out the wave with her then easing her down.

She buried her face in his chest as her heart began to slow, feeling an absurd urge to cry. Closer…she wanted to be closer to him. She curled into his body and tried to push her knee between his legs, but he held her in place. And that was when she realized he was retreating from her though he hadn’t gone anywhere.

She looked up at him. “You want to stop now, don’t you?”

His eyes roamed around her face and then he smiled a little. “Brace yourself, I’m about to be unmanly.”

“Not possible. You’re as manly as they come.”

“I’m scared.”

Her breath caught. “Of what?”

There was a pause and then his hand swept down her side, over her hip and to the apex of her thighs.

“Open for me, Mad.”

She let her legs relax and then he was touching her again. With a slow gentle push, he dipped inside of her for the first time. She shifted to accommodate his hand, tilting her hips up as he went farther and farther…until he stopped and cursed softly.

“Mad, there’s no way this isn’t going to hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine.” It would be over quickly and then on the other side there would be something beautiful waiting for both of them. “I’m not worried.”

“Yeah, well, I am. I don’t know if I can…do this.” He cleared his throat. “I want you, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen if I know I have to hurt you. I’m liable to lose my…you know.”

“You are so adorable right now.” She slid her arm around his waist and swept her hand up to his heavy shoulders. She was surprised once again at how smooth and warm his skin was. “Spike—”

“Michael.”

“What?”

“My real name is Michael. You don’t have to use it. I just…wanted you to know.”

“Michael.” She smiled. “Where did the Spike come from? Your hair?”

His eyes grew grim. “It was given to me. By…friends.”

She eased her palm down his back, wondering about his friends, wondering about where he’d gotten his tattoo, wondering…She knew so few details about his life, though she knew the essence of him very well.

“Michael,” she murmured. “I like that. So, Michael, kiss me. Stop thinking and kiss me.”

“You aren’t afraid, are you?”

“No.”

His eyes became so serious the color of them seemed to darken. “You…are amazing.”