Honor Bound(30)

He groaned low and long as his tongue delved into the warm interior of her mouth, reaching far, swirling deep. He angled his head; she tilted hers in a corresponding movement. Their mouths were sealed.

Aislinn had never received such a blatantly sexual kiss. He brazenly imitated lovemaking, stroking the inside of her mouth with his tongue until she gasped breathlessly. She wanted more.

Her hands moved up from his face. She touched the silver earring in his right ear. He made a catchy, breathy little sound as she fondled it. Her other hand sank into the long, straight strands of his hair. She slipped the headband from around his head and let his hair fall over her fingers. Black silk.

His hand moved between their bodies and fiddled with the buttons on her unattractive, borrowed blouse. She felt them falling open and did nothing to stop it.

Don't think about this. Don't think, she commanded herself. For to think would be to end it. And at all costs she didn't want it to end.

Since she had walked in on him in her kitchen, she had been assaulted by emotions and sensations. Almost without stop, they had come hurling toward her like bullets from an automatic weapon. Sometimes she hadn't dodged them quickly enough and had known their full impact, in her head, her heart, her body. Until three nights ago, her life had seemed as wasteful and barren as the desert compared to the abundance of emotions she had experienced since meeting Greywolf. Now she longed to experience the ultimate emotion. With him.

His breath fell hotly on her neck as his mouth moved over it greedily. He spread kisses across her chest. His hand, without permission or apology, fondled her breast. Just thinking of his strong, brown fingers moving against her pale flesh sent tongues of desire licking through her belly.

She bit her lower lip to stifle a moan when his fingertip located her taut nipple. He dallied with it, circling and fanning it with gentle strokes. When she felt his open mouth closing around it, she released a shuddering cry and clasped his head with both hands, holding it against her.

He exercised no discipline. He used his tongue, his teeth, the suckling ability of his mouth. She couldn't give enough and he couldn't get enough. Each caress brought her higher, further, than she'd ever gone before.

She peeled his shirt open, shoved the cloth aside and spread her hands over his chest. Her fingers engaged in an orgy of discovery. They pressed shallow dents in the curves of his muscles, combed through the pelt of hair, made brief, shy contact with his hard nipples.

Lucas buried his face between her breasts and groaned his pleasure. He gathered a handful of her skirt and lifted it, then laid his hand against the inside of her thigh.

Drums pounded in his head. Heat collected in his sex and spread through his thighs. He had needed a woman, but his desires had focused on this one. This woman. This blond, blue-eyed symbol of everything he hated had become what he wanted most.

Ever since he had seen her standing before him, her body golden in the lamplight of her bedroom, his senses had been humming with desire. He had wanted to seek out every tantalizing inch of her flesh and, once discovered, to know it thoroughly by sight, feel, smell and taste.

Her small, beautifully rounded breasts with their dainty pink crests appealed to him mightily. She was slim, but delectably shaped. He had dreamed of running his hands up and down her slender form, molding it to fit the palms of his hands.

Vividly he could recall how she had looked unclothed. Tremulous, but proud. Vulnerable, but brave. To him her skin had looked as smooth and rich as cream. What he hadn't seen but what his imagination had visualized until he ached.

And now he was touching. That sweet delta was as warm and as soft as he had dreamed it would be. Working his hand deeper inside her panties, he sifted through that silky nest until he found the heart of her womanhood. Impatience overcame him then and he pushed her panties down until she was free of them.

Spontaneously they both fell still, save for their rapid breathing. He braced himself above her and stared down into her face. It was calm. He could appreciate her expression. It held a challenge.

Her breasts were exposed to the new sun and the limitless sky. She didn't flinch as he raked them with his eyes. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist. He lowered his gaze to her womanhood. She was beautiful. He closed his eyes against the immense pleasure that surged through him.

He opened his jeans and positioned himself between her raised thighs. Then, bending his head down to cover her mouth with his, he penetrated her. He entered by slow degrees, savoring every creamy inch of femininity that sheathed him. Only when there was no more of himself to give, did he let his weight settle over her. His face burrowed in the fragrant hollow between her shoulder and throat.

He prayed for death.

Because nothing would ever be this good.

Aislinn, her eyes closed, reached beneath his shirt and ran her hands up and down the supple expanse of his back. His waist was neat and narrow. She loved scooping out the small of his back with her palm. She barely investigated the flare of his hips before she lost her nerve and pulled her hands back. She wanted to slip them into his jeans and cup the hard curves of his buttocks. She wanted to draw him deeper inside her. Not that that was possible. He more than filled her, and yet her body had delighted in accommodating him.

Turning her head, she kissed his ear where the silver earring was secured. He moaned deeply, more vibration than sound. He lowered his head to the tender tip of her breast. He rubbed his open mouth over it until it was quite wet. His tongue was capricious.