Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(73)

Preacher ripped his shirt over his head and pulled her against him. He was already making a nice big tent in his sweats. “Paige,” he said, holding her close. “Oh, this could be over way too fast….”

She laughed softly, kissing his neck, his cheeks, his lips. “Lucky for us, we don’t get just this one chance.”

The thought had never even crossed his mind. In his panic about doing the right things, making her happy and pleasing her, it hadn’t even occurred to him that this was the beginning, not the final exam. He could mess it up, like he half expected to, and he could still get a second chance. His hands went to the snap on her jeans and popped it. “I have condoms, Paige.”

“Have you been screened…since the last time…? Because I was checked after the D and C and I’m on the pill.”

“I haven’t…” He kissed her again, drowning in her mouth. His hands on her hips, he slowly slipped the jeans down. “There hasn’t been anyone. There’s no chance. Oh, I can’t believe how good you feel. I can’t believe I get to touch you like this….”

She closed her eyes, feeling his hands run up and down her sides, over her bottom, along her h*ps and up again. His hands were so big and powerful, but as she expected, his touch was careful and tempting. Slow and delicious, driving her crazy with longing. She put her hands on his hips; the sweats came down easily, despite the obstruction of an amazing, beautiful erection. “Look at you,” she said in a breath, smiling, taking in his broad, hairless chest, narrow hips. She finally saw the rest of that tattoo on his left upper arm that peeked out from under the snug sleeve of a T-shirt—an American eagle.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered against her mouth.

Still kneeling, she directed his lips lower, to her breast. With a soft, easy tongue he circled her nipple and she dropped her head back, sighing. That nipple came to life under his tongue and he pulled her harder against his mouth and gently suckled, drawing a deep moan from both of them. He felt her pull his hand from around her until it was in front of her. With her hand over his, she slid it down, over her belly, past her soft mound and deeper. Her fingers on top of his, she pressed them into her and moved them. “There,” she whispered. “There,” she said again. He memorized the place, the sound. The details.

He would have no way of knowing that his skill as a lover was not an issue with her, but the fact that he wanted only to please her, to make her happy, that was huge. It took only a second of showing him where and how to touch and he was on his own, driving her absolutely mad with desire. Maybe it didn’t occur to him that he wasn’t the only one who’d been a long time without this pleasure in his life. For Paige, it had been a lifetime. And she was so ready to feel both love and pleasure.

John pinched his eyes closed and prayed for control. He hoped he would be able to tell when she was satisfied—he wasn’t completely sure how that worked. He’d never paid attention before. A lot of panting and squirming, he assumed. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d just tell him.

The sensation of her breast against his mouth, his fingers in her soft, slick folds made him light-headed. Then her hand went to his erection and he groaned miserably. He lifted his head. “You better not do that yet,” he told her. “I’m sorry. I wanted you so bad, it’s lucky we made it to the bedroom….”

She let herself slowly drop back onto the bed, pulling him down with her. “Not a problem, John,” she whispered. “I wanted you just as bad.” He held himself over her and she put his finger back on that spot, reminded him how to move it and said, “Oohh,” just before she kissed him again, her tongue sweet and strong in his mouth. He worked it a little bit and her moans came stronger, her h*ps pushing against his hand.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything you want,” he said. “I want this to be right for you.”

She touched him boldly again and said, “John, let’s take care of this, right now. Right away. We can experiment later….”

“I wanted to do it for you first,” he said. “I want to make you feel really good.”

She laughed softly against his lips. “I do feel really good,” she said.

She opened her legs for him and he lowered himself over her. As she guided him with her hand, he pressed himself slowly and deeply within her. He was amazed by her strength, amazed that she seemed not at all overpowered by him, but rather a formidable partner as she rose to meet him, pulled him in. “Ah,” she said. “That is so perfect.” He heard her hum deeply, felt her move her h*ps beneath him, and he began to pump his h*ps to her rhythm. He figured he’d be good for seconds, not minutes, and hoped it would be enough. But he remembered then, remembered what brought that deep moan from her and slid his hand between their bodies and down, inching his finger toward that spot that she loved. And he heard it again. “Oh, John….” She moved harder, throwing a leg over him and pulling him deeper and deeper. He rubbed that hard little knot while he thrust his hips, and beneath him, she was pounding against him, meeting him with each movement.

Something happened immediately. Her body tightened around him and he felt a clenching, a squeezing, a pulsing. It startled him, it felt so good. It was so amazing, he was able to hold himself back because he was in a trance. This was a first for him; he’d never noticed this before. Never felt it. He froze as her breath caught and she strained against him, hot spasms closing around him, drenching him in liquid heat. “Paige,” he whispered, overcome. “Oh, Paige.” She cried out softly, again and again, grasping him powerfully, lost in her own orgasm, and then her mouth was on his again, devouring him, sucking at his lips and tongue. He rocked with her as she cl**axed, while she pulsed with such power, until it felt like there was nothing left in her; then she slowly began to relax beneath him, weak in his arms. Weak and limp and satisfied, all the strength he’d felt a moment ago turned to nothing but softness in his arms. He was in awe of her response. Looking down at her, brushing her hair away from her face, he asked in a hoarse whisper, “Was that it?”