Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(8)

“I should stop.” His warm hand settled on her stomach, over the drawers. “This is too dangerous, Aline.” He pressed his forehead to hers, until their perspiration mingled and their breath filled each other’s mouths in warm, tender puffs. “Oh God, how I love you,” he said huskily.

The weight of his hand made her shiver. Instinctively she spread her thighs and nudged upward strongly, trying to bring his fingers where she needed them most. With great care he reached beneath the veil of thin cotton, touching between her wide-open legs. He fondled the patch of springy curls, his fingertips tenderly burrowing to find the plump mound beneath. Aline gasped against his mouth as he parted her swollen flesh, spreading the soft folds to find the opening of her body. She burned with equal parts of embarrassment and excitement, turning her face to the side as his gentle exploration continued. He was familiar with the intricacies of a woman’s flesh, knowing exactly where she was most sensitive, his fingertips skating over the aching peak of her sex with incredible lightness. His calluses rasped the wet skin, the sensation so sweet and delicately maddening that she let out another shaking cry.

“Hush,” McKenna murmured, caressing all around the aroused bud, while his head lifted as he surveyed the meadow beyond the tall grasses. “Someone might hear.”

Aline bit her lip as she fought to obey, though small whimpers kept slipping from her throat. McKenna continued to watch for uninvited company, his alert gaze skimming the estate grounds at the edge of the meadow. His middle finger found the barrier of her virginity and kneaded the fragile impediment until it softened. Aline closed her eyes against the glare of sunlight, offering no resistance as McKenna used his knees to push her legs wider, until the insides of her thighs were stretched and taut. He entered her with his finger, pausing as he felt her jerk with surprise. His mouth touched her forehead, and he whispered against her damp silken skin. “Sweetheart…I won’t hurt you.”

“I know, it’s just…” She forced herself to lie passively beneath him as she felt his finger glide further inside. Her voice caught with a low throb. “It feels so str-strange…”

McKenna pushed it all the way to the second knuckle, and stroked the sleek inner walls, while her body automatically grasped and clung to the gentle invasion. Groaning as he felt the frantic throbbing of her flesh, McKenna fitted the heel of his hand against the tingling peak of her sex. He began a slow, rocking motion, his finger thrusting deeper, his hand nudging her rhythmically.

“Oh…” Aline couldn’t stop from hitching upward in slavish obedience to the provocations of his hand. “Oh, McKenna…”

He slid his free arm beneath her back, lifting her br**sts as he kissed her br**sts again, his tongue playing over the stiff tips. A swell of sensation rose, then retreated to leave her moaning with excitement. McKenna didn’t falter, caressing her steadily, his teeth catching at her ni**les until they turned redder, harder. Aline concentrated on the deep slide of his finger, the coiling, clenching pleasure that went through her loins and spine, until she lost awareness of everything but his hands, his mouth, his heavy body poised over hers. She imagined his sex plunging into her, rending and stretching and filling her…and suddenly she couldn’t move as voluptuous spasms began to roll through her…waves of relief so intense that she wailed from it, while his mouth hastily covered hers to muffle all sound. Shuddering and sobbing, she rode the pleasure to its dizzying summit, then drifted downward while his slick fingers eased her into tranquillity.

Murmuring quietly, McKenna held and stroked her until she went limp beneath him, her limbs turning heavy and warm. His hand began to withdraw from her drenched sex, but she reached down and covered his fingers with her own. “Come inside me,” she whispered. “I want you so, McKenna. Come in me, come—”

“No,” he said through clenched teeth. He rolled away with a groan, his fingers biting into the damp earth and dislodging great fistfuls of moss. “Cover yourself. I can’t touch you anymore, or I won’t be able to stop myself from—” He broke off with a shuddering sound that betrayed how very close he was to taking her. “Pull down your skirts. Please.”

“I want you,” she said breathlessly.

“Now. I mean it, Aline.”

She didn’t dare disobey, not when she could hear that biting note in his voice. Heaving a sigh, she struggled to restore her clothing. After a while McKenna rested on his side to watch her. He seemed to have regained control over himself, though his eyes were still bright with unspent passion.

Aline shook her head with a wistful smile. “No one will ever look at me the way you do. As if you love me with every part of yourself.”

Slowly he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “That’s how you look at me too.”

She caught at his hand and kissed the rough surface of his knuckles. “Promise me that we’ll be together always.”

But he remained silent, for they both knew it was a promise that he couldn’t make.

Aline knew that the safest thing would be to pretend those passion-filled minutes by the river had never existed. It was impossible, however. Whenever McKenna was nearby, she felt her entire body thrilling to his presence. Emotions seemed to spill from her, charging the atmosphere until she was certain that anyone could sense them. She didn’t dare meet McKenna’s gaze in front of others, afraid that her expression might give her away. McKenna did far better than she in maintaining an impassive facade, but some of the servants, including Mrs. Faircloth, remarked on how unusually quiet he had been for the past week. It was clear to those who knew him well that something was troubling him.