An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(90)
Megan slid her hands into his hair, letting the silky strands slip across her skin. She was bombarded by new sensations, greedy to taste every one of them. Her hands slid down his neck and across the expanse of his shoulders, exploring the thick pad of muscle and the bony outcroppings of his shoulders and collarbone. His flesh was smooth and hot beneath her fingertips, and it spurred her own excitement to hear the quick intake of his breath when her fingers brushed over the sensitive skin, arousing him.
His chest was hard, the hair prickling against her fingers. Something coiled and tightened deep in her abdomen as she trailed her hands down over his chest and back up, and the warm ache between her legs blossomed.
He could feel the faint trembling of her fingers as she touched him, and both the touch of her skin and the evidence of her own urgency aroused him. Fire washed out across his skin and tightened in a ball in his belly. He ached to be inside her, to sink into her soft, welcoming warmth. But first there was the journey, the slow, drifting exploration, and that made it well worth the wait.
There was little that separated her flesh from his—a loose cotton gown that crumpled in his searching hands, easily pushed up until his fingers could roam beneath it over her bare flesh. His palms slid up the smooth line of leg and hip and onto her side. He felt the hard cage of her ribs beneath her skin, and he ran his fingertips along the lines of the bones, then up until he touched the satiny curve of her breast.
Megan drew in her breath in a sharp gasp, shaken by the wave of intense desire that swamped her. Her breasts turned swollen and heavy, the nipples tightening in a sudden, intense ache of passion. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and, turning her head, nipped gently at his arm. He let out a groan, and his hand moved more urgently across her breasts, stroking and squeezing.
His mouth left her lips to roam down her throat, nibbling and kissing the sensitive flesh, until he ran into the obstruction of her gown. With a soft oath of frustration, he pulled back and grasped her nightgown, pulling it up over her head and tossing it away. Gently he eased her back down on the bed, then paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over her naked body, washed by the flickering golden glow of the candlelight.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured hoarsely. “So beautiful…”
Slowly he caressed her, watching his hand as it moved across her creamy skin, delighting in the sight of her nipples prickling in response to his touch. He stroked down across the soft skin of her stomach, and Megan twisted beneath him, her body thrumming with passion. He ran his fingertips down over her hip and along the side of her thigh, then moved back up, sliding them between her legs. She clamped her legs together, startled, but at the same time suddenly, intensely, aroused.
Theo smiled down into her eyes as his hands moved slowly up, separating her legs. Her breath rasped in her throat, and her legs fell apart, opening to him. Megan closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensation.
His fingers were on her, slipping across the slick flesh, opening, teasing, stroking. Megan gasped, and her heart seemed to wobble in her chest as heat rolled and twisted through her.
She was all feeling now, every inch of her alive to each new pleasure that rippled through her body. With every moment, she was sure that she had reached the height of sensation, that she could feel nothing more intense than what she felt right then, and in the next instant, she was trembling under the force of an even greater pleasure.
As his fingers caressed her, found and explored her most intimate flesh, Theo’s mouth trailed across her chest and onto the supremely soft skin of her breasts. With tongue and lips and teeth he teased, stirring them both to an almost painful pleasure. When at last he took her nipple into his mouth, Megan let out a small whimper of delight.
She wanted, and with every stroke of his tongue, each pull of his mouth, she wanted more. Megan dug her fingers into his shoulders, her wordless moans urging him on. He murmured her name against her skin, his voice thick with passion.
Desire was building in him, pounding like fury with every beat of his heart. The mists of passion clouded his brain as he struggled to maintain control.
Megan let out a low sob of pleasure, reason seeming to hang by a tenuous thread. Something was building in her, so forceful and stunning that her limbs trembled, tightened. She ached with the sweetest longing she had ever known. It was as if she were racing, racing toward her destination, fear tickling in the back of her mind that somehow the moment would end before she reached it.
His fingers slipped inside her as his mouth feasted on her breasts. And she shattered.
Before she could even gather her scattered wits or relax into that deep satisfaction, he was gently stoking her passion again, caressing her sensitized flesh into a renewal of hunger. Limp, exhausted from the storm of her release, she lay in a haze of pleasure, as he coaxed from her still more desire.
His hands went to her hips, lifting her as he slipped between her legs. Slowly he slid into her, filling her, astonishing her yet again with a new pleasure, a deep satisfaction at this final completion that far outran the brief slash of pain as he entered.
His mouth covered hers, his hunger compelling hers, as he began to move inside her. Megan’s hands fisted in his hair, and she moved beneath him, driven to match his rhythm, to meet him passion for passion. This, above all else, was what she wanted, she knew. To be melded to him, to move with him, breath and heart surging as one.
She was his and he hers and, as they flung themselves higher, harder, faster, until they teetered on that last, fierce precipice, then tumbled over in an explosion of release, she knew that whatever else might happen, they would never again be apart. Where it mattered, in the center of them, they were united.