Beyond Temptation (Forged of Steele #3)

He leaned down and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose and smiled. “I think I’m going to keep this table forever,” he said, chuckling softly. And then his expression turned serious and he leaned down and whispered, “Got to have you. Now.”

He seemed to rise even higher above her before he sank back down in one fluid motion inside her.

“Oh,” she gasped, her sensation one of total fulfillment and extreme gratification, knowing their bodies were connected this way. He moved deeper, going inside her to the hilt, inside her while reaching under her and bracing her voluptuous bottom, holding it tight to the fit of him.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, whispering softly against the thick luxuriousness of her hair.

“No, you feel good,” she said, smiling up at him. “Okay, big guy. Show me what you can do.” And with the agility of an acrobat, she lifted her legs to lock her ankles in the center of his back.

He grinned down at her. “Remember, you asked for it.”

And then he began moving slow at first, easing in and out as if savoring each stroke, liking the feel of his shaft work its way inside her. And then the tempo suddenly changed, and he began pumping fast. Then faster. Relentless with need. Unbelievably detailed with each and every intimate and intense caress.

“More, Morgan. More. Don’t stop,” she begged.

It was on the tip of Morgan’s tongue to tell her that at this point he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. So he continued to pump into her, ignoring the hard feel of her heels in the center of his back with each thrusting motion. He felt her climbing the same ladder of passion that he was climbing, knowing what awaited them at the top was one hell of an orgasm. And when she arched her back, he didn’t know how it was possible but he drove deeper into her, hit something and whatever it was had her screaming her release.

He felt it, the tensing of her muscles, the pull, the clenching, and at that moment she became the epitome of everything sensual to him. She was one hell of a woman. His woman.

And then he reached the top with her, clung to everything, felt sensually trapped tight within her inner thighs, wishing he could stay a captive forever. He felt his body explode, shatter, flood her. And he bucked once, twice, a third time, appreciating the sturdiness of the table, grateful it was genuine wood and not glass. He was shattering enough. He didn’t need the table to shatter as well.

He threw his head back and growled incoherently. He felt like the wolf claiming his mate and all the innate rights that came with that possession. And as his body began to slow down, he started feeling an inner peace, one he’d never felt before. He could only think of one word for what had just taken place on his kitchen table. Perfect.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to reclaim a semblance of strength. He gazed down at her and he wanted her again. Just like that. Just like this. But the next time he wanted it in the bedroom, in the bed. This table was of good quality, but it could only take so much.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth gently to hers, not ready to separate from her. Her saw the aftermath of a sexual glaze in her eyes, watched a satisfied smile touch the corners of her lips. Grinning proudly he wanted to beat his fists against his chest. Instead he reached down and cupped her face in his hands. “Tell me,” he whispered throatily. “What are you thinking?”

She grinned back at him, still trying to catch her breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm, I was just thinking that you have one hell of an organ, Morgan.”

He laughed. He actually laughed and the ripples from his body went straight through to hers, making them aware they were still joined.

“Besides being a sexy lady, you’re also a poet, I see.”

She chuckled. “Sometimes. How about this one? Why waste it when you can taste it?” And then she was pulling his head down for a kiss that sent an aching need through him. When she released his mouth she smiled up at him, pleased with what she’d done.

“Arrogant woman,” he teased gruffly. “You know what I think?” he asked, leaning down and brushing a kiss across her lips.

“No, what?”

“I think we should carry this discussion to the bedroom.”

“Think you’ll get poetic justice in there?”

“Among other things.”

Lena wrapped her arms around him. “I’m curious to find out about those other things.”

Chapter 12

And just to think she had convinced herself for six years that she didn’t need sex, Lena thought, feeling the heated warmth of Morgan’s naked body snuggled so close to hers. His even breathing was an indication that he had drifted off to sleep, but to make sure she didn’t go anywhere, his arms were wrapped securely around her waist and one of his legs was thrown over hers.