Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(63)

Lily was red-faced, her eyes glittering and bewildered as she stared at him. She allowed him to push her back on the bed. Rapidly he worked at the fastenings of her shift, then gave up with a curse and pushed it to her waist. He cupped her br**sts in his hands and bent over her slim body, his tongue tracing the line where creamy white skin merged into the deeper color of the crest. Opening his lips over the tender peak, he tugged until it contracted to a silky point.

Lily slid her hands around him, over his broad, flexing back, using all her strength to pull him down to her. Some primitive instinct demanded his weight upon her, his heaviness bearing down on her br**sts and between her thighs. With a quiet growl he left her br**sts and sought her mouth. As her h*ps writhed upward, she skimmed the bulging ride of his loins, strained so tightly beneath his pantaloons. The slight contact made him groan against her mouth, and his kiss turned violent.

He gasped words against her neck and face while he reached eagerly between her legs. “Sweet…hush, I won’t hurt you…I won’t…” Gentle and sure, his fingers worked into her, gliding far into the wetness, teasing and sliding against the swollen inner surface. She whimpered, first trying to shrink away, then holding still underneath the gentle ministrations, her mouth falling open with a sigh of astonished pleasure. All of Alex’s plans of patience and self-control crumbled into dust. Her body spread beneath him, allowing whatever he wanted, and he succumbed to a tide of greed and tenderness and lust. Fumbling at the fastenings of his pantaloons, he freed himself and climbed over her, and pushed her thighs wide. Slowly he nudged against her and pressed inside. She cried out, helplessly tightening against his entry, but it was too late; he had already sunk deep into the clinging heat of her body.

Taking her head in his hands, he sifted his fingers through her hair and scattered kisses across her mouth. Her heavy lashes lifted, and she gazed at him in tearful amazement. “Am I hurting you?” he whispered, his thumbs wiping at the trail of wetness beneath her eyes.

“No,” came her low, shaken reply.

“Sweet, sweet…” He pulled back and drove forward, trying to keep his movements smooth and easy, while rampant pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. Lily closed her eyes and breathed deeply, her hands traveling restlessly over his back. She felt his lips on her forehead and his muscled weight settling on her and the slow rocking, the steady rhythm that drew an aching delight up from the very depths of her. “Oh,” she gasped when the feeling grew more intense, and he pushed deeper in answer. She couldn’t suppress a frantic sob, straining up against the hard, heavy slide of his flesh, up, and up again, grasping at his slick body.

His face was above hers, a fierce gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Bending his head to her breast, he pulled her nipple between his teeth. The pleasure condensed into a single, unendurable spasm, and she jerked against him with a whimper. He gathered her close, his entire being focused on the flexing of her inner muscles, the wild shudders that went through her. With a few hard thrusts he found his own release, a cl**ax of sharp, dizzying intensity.

Lily lay unmoving beneath him, her arms locked around his waist. Her body throbbed, pleasantly sore, more relaxed than she could ever remember being in her life. For a moment he was crushingly heavy, his face buried in her soft neck, and then he withdrew and lifted his weight from her. She protested faintly, wanting to keep his anchoring warmth over her. He rolled to his side, his arm curving loosely around her waist. Lily hesitated before drawing closer. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she rested her face against the crisp hair on his chest. Had he been moved to say something, be it sardonic or kind, she would have felt too awkward to snuggle close in such a manner. But he was mercifully silent, allowing anything, everything.

His breath filtered through her hair, and his hand moved up to her head. Idly he toyed with her cropped curls, his fingers drifting through the lustrous strands, winding and unwinding. Lily was conscious of an odd feeling of abandonment, lying there na**d except for the tangled shift around her waist, surrounded by an unfamiliar earthy scent. Her skin was touched with a shiver as her perspiration cooled. She was so drowsy—she felt as if she were drunk on strong red wine. The air chilled her, but her body was warm where it touched his. She should get up and dress and put herself to rights again. In a minute—soon—she would move.

She was aware of saying something groggily, something about the covers. He tugged at the front of her shift with both hands until it tore away from her. Obeying his coaxing, she crawled between the smooth linen sheets. When he joined her, he had removed the rest of his clothes. Lily was briefly startled by the sensation of his bare legs against hers. “Easy,” he whispered, stroking her back. A shivering yawn overtook her, and she relaxed in his arms.

She didn’t know how many hours had passed when she emerged from a deep, restful slumber. Alex slept soundly. His arm was lax as it draped over her, the other curled beneath her head. Quietly Lily absorbed the strangeness of it: the masculine body pressed against her, the feel of his breath on her neck, the silkiness of his hair against her face. The thought of the intimacy they had shared made her blush. She had considered herself wordly wise, having overheard conversations between women of the demimonde, praising the prowess of their lovers. But no one had ever described such a thing as Alex had done tonight. She wondered about his past, the women he had known, the particulars of his experience…a frown collected on her face, and a disagreeable feeling came over her.