Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(107)

They hadn’t made love since well before the baby’s birth, and to Derek’s credit, he had been patient. Extraordinarily so, considering his strong physical appetites. Although the doctor had indicated that she was fully healed from the birth and ready to resume marital relations, Sara had managed to put Derek off with gentle refusals. Lately, however, she had been the recipient of intense glances that warned she wouldn’t be sleeping alone much longer. She paused at the doorway of her bedroom.

“Derek,” she said with a pleading smile, “perhaps later—”

“When?”

“I’m not certain,” she countered, beginning to close the door against him.

Stubbornly Derek shouldered his way past her and shut the door. He began to reach for her, then hesitated as he saw her stiffen. His face went taut. “What is it?” he asked. “A physical problem? Is it something I’ve done, or—”

“No,” she said swiftly. “None of those things.”

“Then what?”

Fiercely Sara concentrated on the fabric of her sleeve. She could find no way to explain her reluctance to him. She had gone through so many changes…She was a mother now…She wasn’t certain that making love with him would be the same at all, and she didn’t want to find out. She was afraid of disappointing him, and herself, and it was easier to keep putting off the event than to face it. She shrugged lamely. “I’m afraid it won’t be the same as before.”

Derek was very quiet, absorbing the statement. His hand settled on the back of her neck in a gesture that Sara thought was meant to be consoling. Instead he gripped her nape and pulled her against him, his mouth coming down firmly on hers. She wriggled in surprise as he forced her hand down between his thighs. He was as hard as iron, throbbing at her touch.

“There.” He pressed her hand tighter. “Do you feel that? You’re my wife, and it’s been months, and I’m aching for you. I don’t care if it’s not the same as before. If you don’t come to bed with me now, I’m going to burst.”

And that, apparently, was all he intended to say on the matter. He ignored her soft protest and undressed them both. Gathering her small body against his, he groaned in love and pleasure and impatience. “Sara, I’ve missed you…holding you like this…” Reverently his hands traced over her, sensitive to the new roundness of her br**sts, the fuller curve of her hips.

Hesitant at first, Sara lay still beneath him, her hands resting on his flexing back. He kissed her with gentle greed, savoring her mouth with long, deep forays of his tongue. She stirred in awakening desire, clasping him closer. To her sudden mortification, a few milky droplets seeped from her br**sts. Pulling away with an apologetic gasp, she tried to turn from him. Derek pushed her shoulders down and bent over her br**sts. His breath flowed in deep gusts as he stared at her. The moist ni**les were a darker pink than before, surrounded by a delicate tracing of veins. The lustily maternal sight sent a wave of aching excitement through him. He touched the tip of her breast with his tongue, teasing and circling, then fastening his lips over the tautness. Gently he pulled with his mouth.

“Oh, you mustn’t,” Sara gasped as she felt a tingling ache in her breast. “It’s not decent…”

“I never said I was decent.”

She gave a breathless moan, caught beneath him as he drew a surge of milk from her body. A demanding pulse began low inside her. He stayed at her breast, his hand cupping underneath the plump roundness, and then he moved to the other. Finally she tangled her fingers in his dark hair and pulled him up, her mouth seeking his. They tangled together, rolling once, twice, across the bed, hands searching with increasing urgency, legs wrapping and twining around each other.

At last, when he slid deep inside her, they both gasped and went still, trying to preserve the moment of oneness. Sara drew her palms slowly from his shoulders down to the tops of his thighs, relishing the powerful length of his body. Derek shivered in bliss and moved against her. She arched languidly, and they began a slow rhythm, drifting in a current of warmth.

“You were right,” Derek whispered, shaping his hands over her body, imprinting sweet, hot kisses against her skin. “It’s not the same as before…It’s even better. God, if only…I could make it last forever.” He thrust more strongly, unable to restrain his movements. Sara clenched her hands and pressed her fists against his back, her body tightening exquisitely. He stared into her eyes, gritting his teeth in the effort to contain his pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his h*ps and urged him to thrust even harder. Afraid of hurting her, he tried to hold back, but she drove him with her own demanding passion, until he let the tumultuous storm overtake him. His smothered cry followed hers, and together they flowed into the swirling tide of fulfillment, bound together by flesh and spirit, in perfect accord.

Afterward they lay together dreamily, letting hours drift by and pretending time had stopped. Sara draped herself over his chest, tracing his features with her fingertip. A thought occurred to her, and she lifted her head to stare at him expectantly.

Derek returned her gaze, idly stroking her hair and back. “What is it, angel?”

“You told me once you didn’t know how ‘happy’ feels.”

“I remember.”

“And now?”

Derek regarded her for a long moment, then pulled her flat against him, locking her in his arms. “It’s this,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “Right here and now.”