A Cowboy in Manhattan(40)
She clamped her jaw.
He knew he should leave the bed, but he couldn’t help hoping there was a simple explanation. Something other than the fact she had cold feet. Which he’d have to respect. A pithy swear word formed on his lips. But he kept it there. “You can say no, Katrina. I’ll be—”
“I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.
He reared back. “What?”
“I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just a little nervous.”
“What?” he repeated, unable to articulate anything more coherent.
She didn’t answer, just stared at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, looking more desirable, more forbidden, sexier than he could possibly be expected to stand.
“I want it to be you, Reed,” she whispered.
He tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t seem to make the simple motion. A better man would walk away. A better man would have stayed away in the first place. Up to this moment, he’d have claimed he was a better man.
Then she reached up to touch his cheek, her fingertips trembling ever so slightly. “I so want it to be you.”
Reed catapulted over the edge. He swooped in to kiss her, telling himself to be gentle, but losing the battle with instinct. His hands roamed the satin of her skin, lips trailing behind, kissing her everywhere, swearing to himself he was going to make it good for her, but unable to slow the pace of his desire.
He touched her again, fingers easing inside her hot, snug body, jolts of unadulterated lust ricocheting through every fiber of his being.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped. He couldn’t stand the thought.
“You won’t,” she told him.
But he knew she was wrong. “I will.”
“Then just get it over with.”
“I don’t think so.” He brushed and stroked, until she relaxed, then squirmed beneath his hand. Her skin was flushed, and her breath was coming in quick pants.
Then he moved over her, didn’t give her a chance to tense and swiftly pushed in solid.
She gasped and reflexively jerked away from the invasion.
But he held her fast, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to still. “Sorry.”
“It’s—” She sucked in a couple of breaths. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her gently, slowly, savoring the taste of her lips, holding his lust in check while he let her body get used to him.
Then she kissed him back. Her arms went around him. And her hips gently flexed.
He stroked her thighs, positioning her legs, moving slowly at first. Then, encouraged by her reaction, he increased the pace. She was hot and slick and gorgeous in his arms. Her scent surrounded him, while her breathing seemed to echo in his soul. He couldn’t stop tasting her, couldn’t stop touching her, as his primal brain kicked his body into an accelerating rhythm.
Heat flashed in front of his eyes, popping like colored fireworks. He braced an arm in the small of her back, tilting her toward him, as he kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth. A roar in his ears rose like a freight train, obliterating everything else.
He barely heard her cry out his name. But her body shuddered, convulsing around him, and he surrendered to paradise.
The world came slowly back into focus, and he realized he had to be crushing her.
“I’m sorry,” he shifted.
“No!” She tightened her hold. “Don’t move.”
“You okay?” He pushed his weight onto his elbows, freeing a hand to brush her damp, messy hair back from her face.
“I’m not sure.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Little bit.”
“Little bit?” he pressed. “But not a big bit?”
She mustered a smile, and he couldn’t resist kissing it. Then he braced her body against his.
“Hold still for a minute,” he instructed. “Let me do the work.” He gently rolled onto his back, bringing her with him until she was on top, and there was no danger of him squishing her. Her slight weight felt good against him.
“You can stay there just as long as you like,” he told her.
“Really?” She pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes. Her gaze was soft on his, voice barely above a whisper. “Because that might be a very, very long time.”
“No problem.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her swollen lips. “It’ll be two, maybe three days before they come looking.”