Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(68)

Mel stroked his back, tasted his mouth, her body still quivering from a thundering cl**ax. She felt the muscles of his shoulders and back at work as he held himself up enough to keep from crushing her with his weight. When he released her mouth and looked into her eyes, she saw in his a smoldering fire that was not even close to being extinguished. She put her palm against his cheek. “Oh, Jack,” she said, breathless. His name on her lips brought him such pleasure, he felt himself expand somewhere inside his chest, as if his heart grew just a little bit. He lowered his lips and sucked gently at hers. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“You were right there. You know exactly how all right I am,” she said. “It’s been a long, long time.”

“It’s never going to be that long again,” he whispered. “Not ever again.”

He began to move down her body with his lips and tongue, kissing and nibbling, tasting in slow, delicate strokes. He ran a tongue around each nipple until they were hard little pebbles, perfect for his mouth. He slid lower, until he had moved down over her flat belly. He gently parted her legs and buried his face in her, hearing her gasp above him. No longer delicate, he went to work on that prominent, erogenous knot in her center. He felt her moving her h*ps against his mouth and when her breathing became rapid and labored once more he rose, slowly kissing his way up her body.

“God, you’re sweet,” he whispered against her lips. “You taste like heaven.” He slid into her again, filling her, moving in long deep strokes that became powerful thrusts that brought her to yet another shattering cl**ax. Again she cried out and he covered her open mouth with his. Swept away, she couldn’t be quiet, and that thrilled him. Every sound, every wild cry gave him joy. He held her as she collapsed beneath him, spent.

Jack felt her small hands on his back, her lips on his neck, and her breathing inevitably slowed and came under control. To his surprise he heard the sound of her soft laughter. He raised above her and looked at her smile. “You lied to me,” she said.

“You are a machine.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” he said. “Are you happy?”

“I’ve been happy a couple of times. What can I do so that you can join me?”

He laced his fingers through hers and holding her hands, stretched her arms up above her head, holding them there. “Baby, you don’t have to do anything but be present.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and began to move inside her once more, pumping his hips. She lifted her knees and tilted beneath him, bringing him deeper, and he could feel her begin to move in concert with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he followed the rhythm she set in place. He rocked with her, slow and steady, deep and long, hanging on to control until he heard her moaning and sighing rise again, her tempo increased, and finally the noises she made, already familiar to him, already beautiful to him, told him she was reaching for yet another orgasm. He had expected her to be passionate, but the heat and power of her passion amazed him, and it filled a need in him. And this time, when she clenched around him and pleasure stole her breath away, he let himself go and matched her. Surpassed her. For a moment, through the powerful pulsing, he felt light-headed. His eyes watered. And he heard it again. “Jack!”

“Ah, Mel…Ah, baby,” he whispered, kissing her, loving her. He gently caressed her as she calmed. “Jack,” she whispered. “I’m sorry…”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” he asked in a whisper.

“I think I bit you.”

He laughed, a deep throaty sound. “I think you did. Is that a habit of yours?”

“I must have been a little out of control…”

He laughed again. “I take the blame,” he said. “That was all part of the plan.”

“Ohhhh,” she said. “I might’ve lost my mind there for a while.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I love it when that happens.”

“You were taking a big chance, driving an already crazy woman out of her mind like that…”

“Nah, you were in good hands. You were always safe.” He kissed her softly. “Would you like to rest now?”

“Maybe for a little while,” she answered, her hands gentle on his face. He gathered her close to him, holding her. Their na**d bodies entwined, they spooned. He kissed the back of her neck as she lay on his arm. His face rested against her soft, fragrant hair, one arm over her and cupping her breast. Very soon he could hear the sounds of her even breathing, her sleep. He closed his eyes and relaxed with her in his arms, finding sleep himself.

Sometime in the dark of night he opened his eyes to find she had rolled over to face him, her hands boldly caressing him. He kissed her and asked, “Have you slept?”

“I did,” she said. “And woke up wanting you. Again.”

“I guess it’s pretty obvious, the feeling is mutual.”

Mel woke in the early morning and to her surprise, there was a song in her head. She was humming along with Johnny Mathis in her sleep. “Deep Purple.” Her music was back.

She rolled over to find the bed beside her empty. She could hear the sound of Jack splitting logs in the backyard. She rinsed her mouth and rubbed his toothpaste against her teeth. A light blue, long-sleeved denim shirt hung on a hook in his closet and she put it on, sniffing the collar, smiling at his scent on it. It more than covered her; she was drowning in it. She went to the back door and stood watching him heft the ax and bring it down. Thwack. The air was clear and sharp; the rain was gone and the huge trees were washed clean. She watched him heft the ax again, and bring it down. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows and his biceps rippled under the weight and force of the ax.