Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(55)

McKenna stopped suddenly, biting back the words as he realized that he was revealing too much, allowing his rampaging emotions to get the better of him.

Aline longed to tell him that she had never thought of him as anything but an equal. Instead she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat and began to unfasten them. “Let me,” she whispered. Even through the layers of fabric, she could feel the hardness of his stomach, the rigid layers of muscle.

McKenna was unmoving, the knuckles of his clenched fists digging into the oak bark. She worked carefully at the row of buttons, then began on his shirt. He did not try to help her, only stood still beneath her ministrations. Trembling with excitement, she finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it free of his trousers. The garment was crumpled and hot where it had been tucked in at his waist. Slipping her hands inside McKenna’s open clothes, Aline inhaled swiftly. His skin was fever-hot, salt-scented, tantalizing. Her palms traveled slowly across his hair-covered chest. She was fascinated by the textures of his body, so much more varied than her own. Determined and ardent, Aline found his nipple with her fingertip. She leaned forward to touch the satiny circle with her tongue, while the crisp curls of his chest brushed against her cheek.

McKenna drew in a quick breath and shoved his hands behind her, tugging at the fastenings behind her gown. His mouth came to her throat, nuzzling and kissing, while he pulled hard at the back of her bodice. Her dress fell around her waist, revealing a corset that pushed her br**sts high beneath a thin cotton chemise. Suddenly a sense of unreality made Aline fearless. Sliding the straps of her chemise down her shoulders, she pulled her arms free and peeled the garment down over the top of her corset. Her br**sts spilled out, the shadowy tips contracting in the open air.

McKenna’s fingers slid beneath the pale curve of one breast, and his head bent over her chest. She jumped a little as the wet warmth of his mouth closed over her. His tongue traced the edge of the taut aureole, then stroked over the tip, tickling the sensitive flesh. She squirmed and gasped, while desire thumped through every part of her body. Releasing the nipple, McKenna drew back to caress her aching flesh with the humid waft of his breath. His tongue flicked her, the feathery laps causing her to twist and moan.

He took the throbbing peak between his teeth, nibbling with a delicate pressure that caused darts of sensation all the way down to her toes. Aline was so mesmerized by the pleasure of his mouth that she didn’t notice him pulling her dress down until it fell to the ground in a heap, leaving her in her underclothes. Dismayed, she bent automatically to retrieve her gown, but McKenna pushed her back against the tree and seized her mouth in a pillaging kiss. His fingers went to the tapes of her drawers, loosening them until they dropped to her knees.

Awkwardly she reached for the tops of her stockings, checking to make certain that her garters hadn’t slipped. Her heart gave a sickening jerk as she felt one of his hands cover hers.

“I’ll do it,” McKenna muttered, evidently thinking that she wanted to untie the garter.

“No.” Hastily she seized his hand and tugged it to her breast.

To her relief, McKenna was instantly distracted by the maneuver, his thumb brushing over the bud of her nipple. Aline lifted her face for his kiss, her lips parting eagerly beneath his. She felt the shape of arousal against her thigh, the hardness straining behind a row of trouser buttons. Hungrily Aline reached for him, working at the buttons, the backs of her knuckles dipping behind the skin-warmed fabric. They both gasped as she finally freed him, his stiff flesh springing from the confines of thick broadcloth. Shivering in anticipation, Aline curved her fingers around him in a delicate, hot grip.

Growling quietly, McKenna pulled her wrists up over her head and anchored them to the tree. He kissed her mouth, his tongue searching her while his free hand drifted over her stomach. He sifted through the dark curls between her thighs, while one of his feet pushed at her instep, forcing her stance to widen. Aline experienced a thrill of primal pleasure at being so utterly mastered. Having unleashed McKenna’s passion, she now had to accept the consequences…and she was more than ready to give him what they had both wanted for so long.

His fingers traced the swollen folds of her cleft, then parted her with utter gentleness. Pulling helplessly at her imprisoned wrists, Aline stiffened at the feel of his fingertip sliding against the opening of her body. McKenna’s fingertip played in the moisture, skimming over the tender threshold of her sex until beseeching hums rose in her throat. Releasing her hands, McKenna slid a supportive arm around her corseted back. His mouth fed on hers, while he found the aroused peak hidden beneath the soft hood of her sex. The kiss was barbaric, wet, violent, contrasting sharply with the skillful delicacy of his fingers. He tormented the little peak with soft, slippery nudges, tickling and prodding until she canted her h*ps tightly. Closer…closer…her flesh throbbing, sizzling with sensation. She writhed on his fingers, hovering at the precipice of a release so acute that she couldn’t think or breathe. Then he brought her over the edge, and she was suspended in wrenching pleasure, her body spasming, her throat dilating with a deep gasp of air. After what seemed an eternity, the pleasure eased into exquisite ripples, and she whimpered against his lips.

McKenna bent to lift the twisted hem of her chemise. The rough silk of his tongue stroked the place on her abdomen where the structure of her corset compressed her pale flesh. Leaning weakly against the tree, Aline stared at the top of his dark head. “McKenna,” she said, flooded with riotous heat as he knelt to inhale the scent of her body. Remembering the scars, she reached down to tug her garters upward, then pushed at him helplessly. “Wait…” But his mouth was already on her, nuzzling into the wet cleft, his tongue sliding past the thick curls.