The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(68)

“You’re going to smoke a cigarette?” she asked. “Now?”

He laughed. “I don’t smoke.”

“I’m glad to hear that. My father always said that smoking was very bad for the health.”

“Getting pregnant at the wrong time is not a good idea, either. This is a tin of condoms.”

“Oh.”

Talk about na?veté, she thought. She was probably beet red from head to toe. It would probably be a good idea to keep her mouth shut for a while. She did not want to sound any more unworldly than she already did.

Jake sheathed himself and then, very carefully, very deliberately, lowered himself alongside her, gathering her close. She was amazed that the cot did not collapse under their combined weight.

The furnace-hot warmth of his body was far more effective than the blanket when it came to warding off the chill of the damp night.

He touched her the way he might have touched a rare and extremely valuable vase—as if he could not believe he was holding her, as if he was afraid he might drop her. His hand skimmed lightly across her, exploring her with exquisite care, easing his way into the forbidden places.

When he bent his head to kiss the tips of her breasts, she could barely catch her breath. Her lower body clenched. An urgency built deep inside her. She felt like a tautly strung bow in the hands of a skilled archer.

Jake’s fingers went lower and suddenly she was melting. His touch became increasingly intimate. When he stroked between her thighs, she gasped, startled and astonished. He penetrated her gently with one finger, and for a few seconds she could not breathe at all. She curled her fingers into his shoulders and buried her face against his chest.

“Jake.”

“You’re so tight,” he grated against her ear. “Wet and tight and hot. I’m not going to last long once I’m inside you, so we’re going to make damn sure you come first.”

She was shocked all over again. No man had ever talked to her that way. She couldn’t find the words to respond verbally so, feeling very daring, she reached down between them and tentatively wrapped her fingers around him. She was alarmed and excited by the size of his erection.

He groaned again and drove himself deeper into her grasp. She got the message. She tightened her hold on him.

“That feels so good.” He lowered his head and kissed her throat. His words were a feral growl against her skin. “Much too good. But I told you, your turn first.”

He began to work the incredibly sensitive nub of firm flesh between her legs. The sense of urgency became overwhelming. After a while she released him to clutch at his shoulders. She moved her lower body against his hand, wanting—needing—something more.

“Jake.”

The release swept through her, a storm of sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced. The little waves of energy convulsed her entire body.

She did not realize she was trying to scream until she discovered that he had covered her mouth with his own, effectively muffling a shriek of pleasure that would no doubt have been audible in the neighboring cabin.

She wanted to laugh, to cry, to sing. She had never known that her body was capable of such a response. She was still marveling at the wonder of it all when Jake fitted the blunt tip of his erection to her still-quivering body and drove relentlessly into her.

It was too much. He was too big. She was too sensitive. Pain and the remnants of recent pleasure twisted together. She gasped and flattened her palms against his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away.

Jake froze.

“Adelaide. What the hell—?”

“It’s all right,” she managed. “Just give me a minute.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He started to withdraw.

She dug her fingers into his back. “No. It’s all right. I want this. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, damn it.”

He waited. She knew how much it cost him to restrain himself because his shoulders and back were wet with sweat.

Finally, cautiously, she urged him deeper. He braced himself on his elbows and sank slowly into her body.

A moment later his climax crashed through him. She caught his head between her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers so that she could kiss him. She swallowed his roar of masculine satisfaction.

She had never been so aware of her feminine power, never felt so strong, so free. The thrill was intoxicating.





Chapter 39


Jake opened his eyes and contemplated what was left of the fire. He should get up, stir the embers, add a couple of sticks of kindling and another small log. But he was feeling very good at the moment. The last thing he wanted to do was move. Adelaide was cradled spoon-fashion against him. It was the only way the two of them could fit on the cot. She was soft and warm and delightfully curvy. The primal scents of the recent lovemaking infused the atmosphere.

He knew then that in the future, whenever he thought of this night—and he was certain that he would think of it often—it would not be just the intensity of his own physical release that he would recall. It would be the intoxicating kaleidoscope of sensations created by the raw elements of passion that would sear his memories. He would remember how the small rivulets of perspiration between Adelaide’s delicate breasts had mingled with the sweat on his chest. He would recall how the dampness had pooled between her thighs. He would have wet dreams about her tight body and the way she had clutched at him when he tried to withdraw. Most of all he would remember the way she had found her release in his arms.