Chasing the Sunset(38)

“Your skin is so soft,” she said. “And you are so hard underneath.” She could see the beat of his heart in his stomach and his hands were shaking, and it filled her with a sense of her own power. She could bring this man to a quivering mass, just with a touch, and she liked it. She liked it a great deal. “Do you enjoy it when I do that?” she whispered.

“God,” he moaned. “Do not stop or I will die.”

She bent to lick a path down his chest, evading his grasping hands, her breasts brushing against him, and he moaned again.

He pulled her up instead to lie on top of him, one leg slightly bent and inserted between

her thighs. The friction of his hair-roughened leg against her softer parts made her cry out, and Nick drank the cry from her mouth. He delved deep into the depths of her mouth, his hands cupping her face, his tongue thrusting against hers in an imitation of the act he intended to commit. Maggie’s hands delved into the hair on his chest, stroking, touching, learning the various textures of his body.

“Silk,” she murmured to him. “The hair on your chest. It is as soft as silk.”

“It could not be as soft and smooth as your skin,” he whispered into the perfect shell of her ear, and then licked it, making her quiver. When he slipped a finger inside her warm, wet depths, she writhed and bucked against him, crying out, and Nick felt his own passion leap in response.

Maggie moaned and rode his leg, unconsciously bucking her hips. Nick deliberately shifted his leg and she bit him, hard. He laughed, delighted with her untutored response to him.

“Just like that, darling,” he said. “Take what you want. Take me,” he whispered into her ear. “Tonight you are the master, Maggie, for I am your slave,” He kissed her swiftly. "I am yours. Do with me as you will."

Maggie stared at him, shocked, but he could see the speculation in her eyes. He lifted her and put her astride him, then fitted himself to her entrance, moaning as her sweet essence flowed over him. He filled his hands with her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the tips.

“We’ll do it this way. Take as much or as little of me as you wish,” Nick told Maggie tenderly. “You are in control, you decide.” Then he smiled a wicked smile that could have enticed an angel out of heaven.

Even in the midst of her passion, Maggie felt tears stab at her eyes for his thoughtfulness.

Though she had never alluded to it, she had wondered how she would feel when his body first covered hers; wondered if it would bring back bitter memories of her husband and the nightly rape that she had endured. Now she did not have to worry, for her body would cover his instead, and she could stop whenever she wished.

She rocked back and forth a little, experimenting, and he groaned and grasped her body a little tighter. Maggie smiled. She liked this. She sank down farther upon him, his hands grasping her hips now, and they found a slow rhythm together, smiling into each other’s eyes with the pleasure of it all, and then she could think of nothing but how he filled her, how he stroked her. She arched her back, taking all of him, loving the feel of him inside her, the feel of his hand on her body, rubbing and caressing. Maggie leaned over to press her breasts into the hair of his chest, loving that, too. Loving it all. Loving him. She loved him so, this man. It swelled inside her, and she kissed him with her tears of joy sparkling in her green eyes.

He bit her lip, and then soothed it with his tongue, and Maggie went wild for him. She began to pant and jerk, making small urgent cries that would have mortified her if she had known, then Nick rolled them both over and lifted her, cupping her buttocks in his hands. She wrapped her legs around him, her nails scoring furrows in his back, and he moved faster and faster, until she cried out his name and he felt her spasm around him. His release seemed to come all the way from his spine, and he rolled to his side, carrying her with him, never wanting to loose her from his arms. He pressed trembling little kisses all over her face as they lay there together, and he thought that he wanted to stay here like this with her forever, this precious woman that he had found.





EIGHT



Maggie woke reluctantly, not wanting to leave her warm, comfortable nest in Nick’s arms. She pillowed her head on his chest, hiding, but the light from the sun would not go away. Finally she lifted her head and squinted her eyes as she looked around. Nick opened his eyes when he felt her move.

“Good morning,” he said, the words full of hot desire and sensual promise, and Maggie blushed as she thought of last night and all the things they had done to one another.

Nick chuckled. They had made love twice more, falling asleep in each other’s arms for short periods, then waking up to lose themselves in each other again. He did not know how she could still blush after all the things that they had done together through the long night, but it was enchanting to see the pretty color flood her skin. He flicked a finger over the freckles on her nose; he had developed a fascination with them last night and had tried to count them by the flickering firelight and plant a kiss on her pliant mouth for every one he had found.

“We should go,” he said. “They will all be worried about us.”

Maggie groaned, and stretched like a cat. She ached in muscles she had not known she had.

“I suppose,” she said unenthusiastically. She did not want anyone to worry, but she did not want to leave this place either. This dirty cabin had been a place of enchantment last night; her world had become a fairytale love story as Nick claimed her in front of the dilapidated fireplace.

Nick pressed her to him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, belly to belly. Their skin touched everywhere and his mouth ravished hers until she was breathless. Then he pulled her clinging arms from around his neck with a purely male aura of satisfaction.

“That is for you to remember all day,” he murmured, then swatted her behind. “Now let’s go home.”

Maggie yelped and grumbled, but a cup of coffee did sound good right now. Her mouth watered. Some biscuits and gravy, maybe some bacon, too . . . Her stomach growled.

Nick saddled Jet and they rode him double back to the farm, Maggie contented in his arms. At first they went slowly, gazing often into each other’s eyes, pressing kisses against greedy mouths, but then Nick took a path out of the forest into a pasture that he said was a straight shot to the house. He grinned at her with mischief shining from his every pore.

“How fast do you think Jet can go carrying both of us?” he asked, and gave Jet a tap with his heels that had the stallion galloping for home.

They rode recklessly fast through the pasture, the wind tossing Maggie’s hair behind her in one long streamer, both of them laughing giddily like children. Maggie whooped as loudly as Nick did, leaning low over the horse’s neck, urging him on with her voice, and Jet responded because he loved to run fast as much as they liked to go fast.

They thundered into the yard and pulled the horse up right in front of the stables. Tommy and Ned had both come out to see who was coming across the lawn at such a high speed. Nick slid off Jet’s back and pulled Maggie with him, throwing the reins to a grinning Tommy.

“Walk him out, would you, Tommy?”

“Yes sir,” Tommy said, and slanted his eyes at Maggie. “Glad to see that you are all right, Miss Maggie,” he said, and Maggie was sure that what she and Nick had done together was written all over her face . . . and then it was, as she blushed bright scarlet and turned pointedly away from Tommy’s knowing grin.

“I am going up to the house,” she said, trying to maintain her dignity. “Has everyone already had breakfast?”

“If you could call it that,” grumped Ned. “Runny eggs and burnt toast, and Tommy’s coffee is worse than mine, and Kathleen is not here yet, so I could not get her to cook me anything.”

“Well, come on up in a few minutes,” she said in amusement. “I will put a pot on to brew before I go and clean up.”

“Are you all right, Maggie?” Ned asked hesitantly, and Maggie’s smile flew across her face with a brilliance that rivaled the sun.

“Oh, yes, Uncle Ned,” she said softly. “I am just . . . wonderful.”

The lines around his eyes grew deeper as his smile grew larger. He hugged her against him for a moment, and smoothed a hand over her disheveled hair. “It is glad I am,” he said. “If you are happy, then I am happy for you, Maggie girl.”

Maggie fairly danced up to the house, a broad smile creasing her face. She could not help it, she was just so content that the joy just seemed to come bubbling up out of her. She put the coffeepot on to boil and ran upstairs to change into clean clothes.

She stared at herself in the mirror and searched for differences in her face. She traced her reddened mouth with a finger, touched the whisker burn on her neck with a small, secretive smile, but she still looked exactly the same as she had yesterday. She wondered how that could be, when she felt so different inside.

When Maggie went downstairs, Kathleen was there. Kathleen greeted her with a fierce hug. “Maggie, I was so afraid that something had happened to you!”