The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(37)

With a powerful surge, he pulled his shirt off and pitched the thing carelessly to the ground. Then he stretched out on top of her, drawing her arms up over her head. After he’d settled into the cradle of her hips, he began to move in a sinuous pump. As she cried out from the friction, he groaned and let her hands go then dropped his head into the crook of her neck. Through the thin nylon of his sweats, she could feel his arousal sliding, probing. She threw her knees wide.

“Mad…”

He kissed her hard and they went a little wild as she wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders with her nails. He didn’t seem to mind how much she was holding on to him or the way she’d latched on to his lower body. Quite the opposite. He was positively growling into her mouth.

Without warning, he pulled away and stood up. Turning his back to her, he drew the sweatpants off then held them over his hips as he got back onto the bed. She was confused until she realized he was shielding himself from her, not letting her catch a glimpse of the front of him.

As he found his way back to her body, he threw the sweats aside and came down on top of her. His naked skin against hers was a stinging pleasure, almost too much to handle. But she wanted to know what he looked like.

She pushed him back. “Let me see you. All of you.”

There was a pause.

“Spike, I want to see you. Now.”

He slowly eased off her and rose up onto his knees. Mad’s eyes widened as she understood what he hadn’t wanted her to know. He was…very well endowed.

“We don’t have to,” he said, covering himself with his palms.

She shook her head and moved his hands away. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Mad…I’ll be careful.”

“I know you will. But first…” She reached out and touched him.

His body shuddered all over, his breath sucking into his lungs with a hiss, his head falling back. She looked at the male glory of him, from his thick thighs to his magnificent sex to the planes of his stomach…up farther to his pectorals and his shoulders…to his throat and the hard point of his chin, which was all she could see of his face.

She stroked him and learned his maleness, all of it, but he didn’t let her explore for long.

His voice was hoarse, a bumpy rasp, as he lay down on top of her again. “No more of that. You take me so high, so fast…”

She felt him shift to the side and one of his hands disappeared between their hips. There was a blunt, silken brush against her, and the knowledge of what it was made her tremble with arousal. He entered with an aching, unhurried nudge.

Spike broke out in a sweat and the heat that bloomed over every inch of him seeped into her. His muscles were absolutely rigid as he moved forward little by little, going so very carefully. As her body stretched to accommodate him, he found a shallow rhythm of rocking and she followed along.

Pleasure began to rise and she nipped his shoulder with her teeth while angling her hips up.

“Now,” she whispered. “Do it now.”

He stuck with speed. With one sharp surge of his lower body, he broke past the breach, but went no farther.

Pain flared, red hot, and she tightened all over, gasping. Instinctually she squeezed at his hips, and pushed against his shoulders, yet she hoped he wouldn’t move.

“I’ll pull out,” he said in a rush.

“No…just…wait a minute, okay? I need to relax.”

Spike stayed perfectly still, not even breathing.

Her tension eased as the discomfort passed. And then she was aware of him, so unnaturally quiet and unmoving, yet joined with her.

Abruptly, the presence of him seemed very right.

More, she thought. I want more.

*

Spike was grimacing in sympathy, still horrified to have heard her gasp and felt her body stiffen under his.

It was totally unfair, that he should only feel the pleasure of her tight hold while she bore the hurt of them coming together. And he would have taken the pain from her if he could have, born it a hundred times over to spare her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really think I should—”

She held him in place by the shoulders and shifted under him. The friction was so delicious he groaned and when she arched beneath him again, she drew him farther inside.

Her eyes were clear and sensually curious as she smiled. “Don’t stop now. The hard part’s over.”

At that moment, staring down into her face, his body pressed against hers, penetrating hers, Spike felt his whole life change. Suddenly, inexplicably, everything was different. Which he supposed was what happened when you were struck by lightning.

Or…love.

Oh, no, he thought. How was it possible? No, he couldn’t…

Well, at least he knew why it might have happened. It was her courage and her strength and the way she felt beneath him right now. It was her mind and her smile and the very scent of her. It was all the things he knew of her and all the things he wanted to discover about her. And, yeah, though it made him a total Neanderthal and he would have adored her anyway, the fact that he was the only man to be where he was just laid him out flat.

“Spike?” Her brows flickered in worry. “Is this…okay for you?”

“No, it’s not okay. It’s…everything.” He kissed her deeply, joining them in another way, tongue to tongue.