And what an exquisite, awe-inspiring experience it was to desire and be desired full measure in return. Never. Never when she'd read Shakespeare or Whitman or imagined the tawdry romps in the Levee District had she imagined the fullness of this experience, the intense, blazing carnality of it.
She glanced down and saw Ryan's cheeks hollowed out as he suckled her, the taut, firm squeeze of his lips, the surprisingly touching sight of his closed, smooth eyelids—as though she witnessed him at a moment of sublime, peaceful bliss.
Her womb seemed to clench inside of her, the pain so great she cried out.
"Ryan!"
He opened his eyelids slowly.
"I... don't think you should continue doing that. It... it hurts."
His dark brows and the sticking bandage went up on his forehead, but his lips remained sealed around her nipple.
"Well, not hurts, precisely," she admitted rapidly when the divine suction of his mouth lessened noticeably. His firm suck resumed and Hope's fingers clawed desperately in his hair, making him grunt in discomfort. Despite what she'd just said she cried out "no!"
when Ryan released her nipple.
"Do you want me to tie you down again?"
"Surely that's not necessary, is it?" she whispered weakly. Ryan gave her a wry look as he came face-to-face with her, pressing her down to the bed. It felt delicious to take even part of the weight of such a big, solid . .. hard man.
"It will be if you keep clawing me and writhing around while I take my time making love to your mouth and breasts and anything else I damn well please for a good part of the night. I want complete access to you, Hope."
Her mouth fell open to reply and Ryan silenced her by sliding his tongue between her lips.
She moaned as pleasure inundated her. Surely Ryan wasn't concerned. Couldn't he tell he had complete access to everything from her pinkie finger to her very soul?
TWENTY-TWO
Ryan's consciousness rose sluggishly into the waking world the next morning. He existed in a warm cocoon of sunlight and body-warmed blankets. He kept his eyes closed, hesitant to break the spell of profound relaxation and contentment. The most amazing, erotic memories clung around his awareness like a dream lover's embrace.
His body tensed immediately, however, when he heard the wooden floor next to the bed squeak, the sound somehow cautious, as though whoever neared him did so furtively.
"You're such a hog with the covers. Let me in there with you. I'm freezing out here."
Ryan's eyelids popped open. He felt afraid to move for a second as the strongest sense of deja vu he'd ever experienced in his life swept through his awareness. He turned around slowly and gawked at a naked, glorious, sun-gilded Hope Stillwater as though he were witnessing a miracle of the highest caliber.
She literally dazzled him. After a second he noticed that the stunning vision before him had tilted her head and that her dark brows furrowed in puzzlement.
He whipped back the covers and grabbed her before she could fade away like a dream.
He brought her onto the bed and yanked the blanket over them, hardly aware of her surprised laughter. Most of his attention luxuriated in the sensation of Hope's body pressing against his. Her skin felt like smooth, cool silk flowing beneath his hand as he drew it along the side of her torso.
He looked into her face and saw laughter in her midnight eyes.
"Just who do you think you are, sneaking around naked at this hour of the morning?" he asked before he brushed aside a swath of dark hair and buried his face in her fragrant neck. His fingers tightened in the silky strands when he recalled climaxing while his cock was buried both in Hope's coiling curls and hot little mouth at once.
She wasn't a dream. And she really was right here beneath him, naked and beautiful.
Maybe she wasn't a dream, but she was a miracle. The degree of distilled lust he experienced at the sensation of her soft, firm body beneath him, her erect nipples pressing into his ribs was like a blade lancing into his flesh.
He groaned when he felt her hands in his hair and then running hungrily over his shoulders.
"You've accused me of being a witch often enough. Is that the answer you want?" she teased him in that low, smoky voice he'd come to love. His cock lurched against her satiny smooth belly. Despite a night full of mind-bogglingly great sex he realized he had to have her again.
Now.
He needed to prove to himself that she was real; that Hope truly was there with him.