A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River #4)(63)

“Oh, Ian.” She laughed. “You talk too much!”

The gold flecks in his eyes gleamed and he came down on her mouth harder, slipping an arm under her while he kissed her with heat, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her other arm went around him, pulling him against her and, with a will of its own, her body arched against his, hungry. Not just starved in general, but for Ian, to whom she’d bonded herself in so many ways.

Without breaking their kiss, his hands began to rove over her breasts, hips, thighs. He slipped a big hand under her sweater to touch her breast and sighed against her lips as he did so. Then he helped her out of her sweater and his big hands were on the snap of her jeans, slipping them down over her hips, her knees, until finally they were off. He tugged his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in just those soft sweats, and he stared down at her small body. “God above,” he said in a reverent whisper.

“Is this how you looked at me when you were saving my life? When you got me out of my clothes and warmed me?”

He shook his head, a naughty smile on his lips. “There was no funny business. This time, there’s definitely going to be funny business.”

“Good,” she said, letting her eyes drift closed again. “Good.”

He kissed her around her neck, shoulders, chest, biceps, tummy. All the while he ran a thumb under the elastic of a very small panty. “How do you feel about me chewing off your underwear?” he asked.

She sucked in a breath, shuddered. “I can always get new underwear…”

It made him laugh deep in his throat. This was what he loved best—her playfulness. Or maybe it was her small body, appearing fragile, but not. Or was it the fire on her head and the flashing green eyes? It might be quicker to list the things he didn’t love, if he could think of any at all.

He made the bra disappear first, finding her nipples with his tongue, loving the sounds she made as he pampered her. Then he dropped his head to her belly and taking the elastic of her panties in his teeth, he dragged them down over her hips. He pulled them the rest of the way with a trembling hand and had his lips against hers again. He kissed her deeply, filling his hands with her hips, her smooth butt. “A natural redhead…”

“Ah, how could you doubt me?” she asked breathlessly. “Especially after a couple of weeks in the woods…”

“Marcie, baby, I gotta have a taste. I have to.”

She arched slightly. “Oh, my,” she said. “Well, if you have to, you have to…” And her legs came apart slightly, making him growl.

He went down, parting her legs, burying his face in those red curls until he felt her fingers lock into his hair, felt her lunge against him and heard her panting cries. He rose somewhat reluctantly to capture her mouth again. “Honey, you’re ready for anything…”

“You,” she whispered. “You’re what I’m ready for.”

With one hand and a kick of his long legs, he was free of his sweats, planting himself between her legs. He tried to take it easy, finding her and entering slowly. But Marcie was in a hurry and lurched against him, pushing back. For a moment, when they were locked together, everything went still. With their eyes upon one another, their lips barely touching, they were quiet, motionless, just the breathing and the hot gaze between them, savoring their moment of joining. Then her eyes slowly drifted closed and her hips moved beneath him.

Ian covered her mouth in a hot, deep kiss and pumped his hips, holding on, waiting, moving gently, then fiercely, until he felt it all happen at once—her fingers on his shoulders, digging in, her pelvis thrust against him, her insides pulsing in a fabulous joy that left him drenched in hot liquid. And he made the moment count, letting it all go, being with her through the ecstasy.

He held her for a long, quiet time, his lips on her neck, her lips on his shoulder, their bodies rising and falling with rapid breathing, moist with perspiration, calming down, recovering. Finally she whispered in his ear, “What were you thinking while that happened, Ian?”

Before he could come up with an answer, the truth came out. “I was thinking, thank God I didn’t forget how that was done.”

She laughed, rubbing his back.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“I was thinking, thank God he didn’t forget how that was done.”

But he wasn’t laughing anymore. The look on his face was dreamy. He brushed her hair away from her brow. “You’re real special, Marcie,” he said. “I never saw this coming, but…” He couldn’t finish.

She put her palm against his cheek. “That’s nice, Ian. You’re awful special, too. And I let you get me naked when I’d been with you ten days.”

“You let me do more than that.”

“I wanted you to make love to me. You must think I’m a bad girl—”

“You are a bad girl, the best bad girl that was ever born,” he said. “The meanest little carrottop on the playground. You’re the best thing that ever happened in my life, Marcie. I was dying—you knew that. You made a difference. It’s what you always intended to be—a difference.” He grinned. “Like Abigail.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”

He brushed her lips with his. “Am I crushing you?” he asked.