“Now your turn,” he murmured when he finished his ministrations. His voice was suddenly husky, as warm and sensuous as the water he poured over her.
Realizing that he wanted her to reciprocate, Selena hesitantly complied, stretching to reach him because he was so tall. Yet as she bathed him, rinsing the sand from the sleek muscles of his arms and shoulders, she found herself staring in fascination at the dark sprinkling of hair that covered his broad, bare chest. The slight furring narrowed as it reached his flat abdomen and dipped below the waistband of his breeches—
“You act as if you’re afraid to touch me.”
His observation brought color rushing to Selena’s cheeks. She was afraid to touch his powerful bronzed body, yet she was also determined not to let Kyle Ramsey know it. “Of course not, Captain,” she said more breathlessly than she intended. Bracing herself, she dribbled a thin stream of seawater on his chest and reached out to brush the resultant droplets away, stroking him quite deliberately. The feel of him was just as masculine as she expected it to be, iron-hard flesh and sinews beneath damp, silky skin. But she didn’t expect him to capture her slender fingers and imprison them against his naked chest.
Startled, she looked up to find Kyle watching her, a smoldering golden glow in his eyes. “Come closer,” he commanded softly.
Assailed by that same queer breathlessness, Selena obeyed, taking a single step toward him to close the distance. When Kyle slowly slipped an arm around her narrow waist, she found herself pressed against the full length of his big, splendid body, feeling his hard male contours, his heat.
He was still watching her intently as he reached up with his free hand to smooth a wet tress back from her face. “Lord, you’re beautiful in the moonlight.” His thumb drifted lightly over her cheekbone, then moved to her lips and, with gentle pressure, urged them open.
She quivered.
He bent his head.
His mouth was just as warm and exciting as she remembered, and just as devastating. As his tongue probed for entrance, she opened fully to him, wanting his kiss, his possession.
She was hardly aware that his large hand was gliding upward over the filmy gauze of her nightdress, until she felt his fingers curl around her breast, cupping the swelling fullness. The resultant wave of heat shocked her; it raced through her body to settle as a throbbing ache somewhere between her thighs, in the very core of her womanhood.
“Captain—” Selena gasped in halfhearted protest.
“Call me Kyle,” he breathed against her lips. “And I’ll call you Seawitch.”
She could feel his deep voice vibrating through her body, just like the fierce need he was arousing in her. Involuntarily, her hands crept up the broad plain of his chest and curled around his neck.
He tasted her, dallying over the silky softness of her face while his thumb rubbed her nipple seductively, circling and teasing. The erect tip tightened unbearably under his light touch, while heat flared between her quivering thighs. When his long, blunt-tipped fingers closed over her nipple, plucking at the tight bud, Selena arched against him, her hands reaching up of their own accord to bury themselves in the thick dampness of his hair.
He stroked and caressed the aching peak, and by the time he had lavished the same erotic attentions on her other breast, Selena’s fingers were clenched in his hair. Kyle drew back slightly then, and she was surprised to realize he had managed to unfasten the buttons at the throat of her nightdress. When he deftly slid the bodice down over her shoulders to expose her pale breasts, Selena shivered, not from the breeze that was caressing her damp flesh, but from the hot lover’s gaze that was traveling the length of her.
She heard his quick intake of breath as his eyes fastened hungrily on her naked beauty, heard him mutter some unintelligible exclamation as he drew her against him again, and she braced herself for another shattering kiss. Yet he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he bent to take her right nipple boldly into his mouth.
Selena couldn’t stifle a gasp. That was what he had meant earlier, about the sand, she realized. But she hadn’t imagined anything like this. He was suckling her breast, tormenting the nipple with his lips, massaging it in shuddering waves with his tongue. His possessive mouth created an incredible pleasure within her, making her feel weak and thoroughly helpless. Her legs were trembling, as if they might buckle beneath her, and when his searing lips moved to claim her other breast, she had to grip Kyle’s shoulders to support herself.
It wasn’t long before a whimper escaped her. Kyle raised his head and smiled in satisfaction. “I can accept impatience,” he said, his teeth gleaming in the faint light, “as long as I’m the one you’re impatient for.” When Selena stared dazedly at him, he drew a languid circle around her nipple with one finger. “Are you impatient for me, Seawitch?”
“Yes.” The husky reply seemed to be dredged from her throat. Yet it must have been what Kyle wanted to hear, for he chuckled as he stooped to catch her up in his arms and carry her to the shore. Embarrassingly aware that she had spoken no more than the truth, Selena felt her cheeks flood with color. She shut her eyes as he strode with her a few paces up the beach and kept them shut as he laid her down gently and stretched out beside her, his weight supported on one elbow.
He paused for a moment to survey Selena: her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, her silver tresses spilling over her shoulders to accentuate the soft rise and fall of her breasts.
“No, not a Seawitch,” Kyle murmured, pushing a silken strand of hair back from her face. “A Moonwitch.” Then he bent and captured her lips again, while he moulded her breasts in his palms.
His hands were large and callused, vital and strong with life. As they gently stroked her, Selena stirred restlessly. The sand beneath her was heated, still warm from the Caribbean sun, but it was cool compared to the heat rising within her with each brush of Kyle’s fingertips. In a moment, they were moving over the rest of her body, caressing, arousing, slipping beneath the hem of her nightdress to glide up a shapely thigh and search out the center of her womanhood.
Selena stiffened when she felt his hand between her thighs, then shuddered as his sensual fingers began exploring the yielding, warm folds of her flesh with sure mastery. Never would she have suspected that a man’s hand on that part of her body could give her such fierce pleasure or that she would respond so brazenly. Her hips were moving of their own accord, as if an ancient, primitive force were controlling her, driving her on. She wasn’t frightened, either, as perhaps she should have been when she felt his flagrant, rigid arousal pressing against her thigh, restrained only by the damp canvas fabric of his breeches. Instead, she arched against his hard, powerfully muscled body, hardly realizing that the soft whimpers she heard were coming from her own throat.
His own voice was none too steady when he broke off his kiss to whisper, “Who would have guessed you had such fire in you?”
As he unfastened his breeches and freed his rigid hardness, Selena opened passion-dazed eyes to stare at him. His rugged face was taut with desire, and she had the impression he was forcing himself to go slowly.
His hands were urgent but gentle still as they slid under the soft, full curves of her bottom and lifted her to meet him. “I don’t know if…Moonwitch…it’s been too long.”
She had some idea what to expect and so braced herself against the invasion of her flesh. Yet she couldn’t prevent a soft gasp as his maleness slowly began to fill
her.
“Damn, but you’re tight. You can’t have done this often.”