A Night to Surrender (Spindle Cove #1)(61)

“Touch me,” he urged, between swipes of his tongue. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

Susanna had never been happier to take his direction. She reached down, yanking his shirt free of his waistband and sliding both palms beneath it, exploring the smooth, muscled planes of his back. Then she wiggled a hand between their bodies, searching for the closures of his trousers. With an eager tilt of his hips, he aided her search. She undid the buttons on one side of the flap, working her fingers inside.

Oh. My.

Her senses were overwhelmed. The heat and weight of him, filling her grip. His needy groan of encouragement, buzzing around her nipple.

She stroked gently, as much as the cramped circumstances would allow, skimming her palm along his length and marveling at the texture. Like ridged velvet over heated iron. So smooth and so strong.

This belongs inside me. Her intimate muscles clenched at the thought.

“I can’t wait,” he said, abandoning her breast. “I can’t wait any longer.”

She released her grip on him as he pushed her shift higher, bunching the fabric under her arms. His erection wedged hot and eager between their bodies. He thrust against her bared sex, teasing up and down her cleft. The intense pleasure left her breathless, mindless.

“Last chance,” he said through gritted teeth, changing his angle and tilting her hips. “If you don’t want this, Susanna . . .”

The feral snarl of his lips gave her a heartbeat’s pause. He was right, this was the most vital, undeniable force in nature. Her whole body craved release, possession. The power of the moment was almost too much.

“I want this,” she managed. “I want you.”

Seventeen

“Then I’m yours,” Bram whispered, nudging into her heat, just an inch. Rapture chased along the surface of his skin. “Take me. Take me in.”

He worked into her slowly, in steady, deepening thrusts, putting most of his weight on his good knee and forcing himself to be patient as her body learned to accommodate his. She looked up at him with eyes so wide and unguarded, he could read her every emotion. He saw anxiety, trepidation. Understandable, as this was her first time. But there was trust as well, overwhelming her fear.

Overwhelming him.

With each exquisite, incremental advance, he offered words of encouragement and praise. “Yes, love . . . You feel so good . . . So good . . . Just like that . . . Just a bit more . . .”

As he sheathed himself fully with one last, unfettered thrust, she gave a pained gasp. His heart twisted in his chest. He hated to hurt her.

“Is the pain too much?”

She bit her lip bravely and shook her head no.

“Can—” Her body clenched around his, and he released a helpless groan of pleasure. “Can you bear it if I move?”

“Is moving necessary?”

He struggled valiantly not to laugh. “I think so, love. I . . . I have to move, or I’ll go mad.”

He slid out of her just a bit before plunging back in, even deeper than before. She was so warm and soft, and so damned tight. The pleasure had a keen, sweet edge. Balancing his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her flat, he worked his hips back and forth, gently. For what seemed like ages, he restrained himself to only the most easy, gliding, undemanding of motions. All the while, the need for fast, furious, pumping release clamored in his veins. He fought it back through sheer force of will. She deserved better than an animalistic humping. This was a precious gift she’d bestowed on him, and he didn’t want her to regret it. Not tonight. Not forty years from now.

“Is it better?” he asked.

“A little.”

A little. A little wasn’t enough. With a silent curse, he lowered his body to cover hers. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” she breathed. Her hands slid over his back, and her br**sts molded beneath his chest, soft and warm. “I like this. I like having you so close to me.”

“So do I.”

As he slid into her the next time, her hips canted to meet his. She gave an encouraging moan. So he did it again. And again.

“That’s . . .” She arched again, riding his thrusts like a wave. “Oh, Bram. It’s so good now.”

Holy God, it was. It was so damned good now. The angle, the rhythm, the way her body fit and moved with his. They’d achieved true unison of bodies and purpose, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d never known he could so completely lose himself in a woman, and at the same time, feel he’d come home.

There was a world out there, somewhere beyond these willow branches. Oceans, mountains, glaciers, dunes. Somewhere, far away, wars were being waged. Bram could not have cared less. He didn’t want to be anywhere else but inside this woman, as deep as he could go. He had no purpose, no duty in this life other than to fill her and please her and make her gasp and moan and scream.

She was where he belonged.

He reached down to lift her leg and wrap it over his hip, and her body drew him deeper still. They kissed deeply, too. He took his time exploring her lush, generous mouth, marveling at how good it felt to claim her both ways at once. Tall as he was, with other women he couldn’t always kiss and thrust deep at the same time. But Susanna was his perfect match.

What their kisses lost in finesse, they gained in sensual urgency. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders, and the effect was that of a bee sting to a grazing bull. It drove him into a frenzy. His hips bucked as he pushed into her again and again, abandoning all gentleness, single-minded in his pursuit of her climax.