He was firm everywhere, taut and strong. Hot. Her fingers discovered the textures of his clothes, then slid beneath his shirt as he yanked it free of his belted pants. He made an approving noise as she found satin skin and the tension of his abdomen, then the shape of his rib cage and the sleek muscles across his chest. The sharp beads of his nipples fascinated her.
She made her own appreciative noises, utterly rapt with the contrast of his body to her own, all flat planes and crisp hair and indomitable strength.
He released her zip and dragged down the loosened front of her dress. As he bared her breasts, something elemental gripped her. The spirit of womanhood. She melted onto her back and arched, emphasizing their differences, liking that he made a noise that sounded almost suffering, yet growly and ferocious. He opened his mouth and engulfed her in such a place of earthy pleasure, she released her own cry of agonized joy.
Volatile. Was that what this was? She hadn’t known she could feel like this, frantic yet intoxicated. Impatient yet timeless. She wanted to stay like this forever, running their hands over each other, kissing, mouths needing to fuse and breathing be damned. But as his hands moved on her, shifting silk with a touch so hot it burned her through the fabric, she wanted more. So much more.
His fingertips grazed the slit in her gown and she found herself offering more of her leg then trembling in anticipation, waiting for the feel of his touch on her skin. The pet of his hand on the outside of her thigh made her shiver. She gloried in the way he kissed her harder, deeper, hand shaping her hip, exploring her belly, then tracking to her other thigh. He squeezed the taut muscle then moved with delicious confidence to cup the center of her.
Breath stalling, eyes opening, she waited for panic, but before she could entertain a grim memory, he firmed his touch and rocked his hand, sending a jolt of incredible pleasure through her pelvis. Her eyelids grew heavy again and she found herself lifting, spellbound by the lightning bolts of sensation that grew in strength as they kissed and he caressed her.
How could anything feel this good?
She wanted to touch him as intimately, but she could hardly think of anything but how he was making her feel. Just as she tried to shape him through his pants, his touch changed, exploring beneath silk with knowledge and intention.
She bucked in reaction. “I can’t—My heart is going to explode.”
She moved a reflexive hand to cover his, not quite stopping him, because the slide of his fingers against her was so mesmerizing, but so sensitizing she almost couldn’t bear it. Her entire focus narrowed to that delicate circle and stroke.
“I want to be inside you, but I don’t want to stop touching you. Like that?” He pushed a long finger into her.
She couldn’t speak, could only hear a keening noise that came from her as he penetrated and circled where she was so sensitive and molten that she ached. She tightened, trying to savor, trying to hold back the build, but wanton mindlessness took over. Her hips danced against his hand, the pleasure growing too acute to bear, tension growing and growing until she couldn’t stand it—
“Oh!” Her world exploded in a sudden release that had her shaking and shuddering, flesh pulsing and eyes tearing at the absolute beauty of it.
She pressed his hand still, trying to ease the sensation, trying to catch her breath.
He kissed her, tongue questing for hers, and continued to gently caress her, soothing and teasing so her level of arousal didn’t fade, only edged into deeper desire.
With a groan, she rolled into him, strangely ravenous. She wanted the barriers between them gone. Wanted all of him. What was he doing to her?
He made a feral noise and they tugged at each other’s clothing, stripping in seconds, then rolled back together, naked, gloriously naked. Now he was hers, all hers. She swept her hands over him, enamored with his broad shoulders but equally fascinated by his rock-hard biceps and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow.
When she cradled the fiercest part of him in her palm, she wasn’t frightened at all. She felt powerful, especially when he looked agonized and closed his eyes and breathed, “Bella.”
With a smile, she pressed her mouth to his throat and tried to roll him onto his back. He rolled her beneath him instead, pressing over her as he kissed her, letting her caress him as he used his tongue to mimic what he wanted to do until she couldn’t take it and tore her mouth from his. “I need—”
She didn’t know what she needed. She was restless and urgent, loins feeling achy and neglected. Empty.
He reached over to the night table then rose over her, knees sliding between hers and parting her legs with effortless strength.