Montan a Wildfire - Page 71

"Ah, Jake," she sighed raggedly, her hot breath blasting against the side of his neck. "Please, just for tonight, love me like no one else ever has. Like no one else ever will."

"Yes, princess. Oh, God... yes!"

He plunged into her, withdrew, and plunged again. Deeply. Their position—her on the table, him on the floor—was perfect; it gave him optimum penetration. Her legs tightened around him. He could feel her breasts crushed beneath his chest. Her nipples burned into his skin, branding him, as he felt her body squeezing around him, wringing a quicker response than he wanted to give.

Jake's blood was pounding. His body demanded immediate release. Somehow, he didn't know how, he held back, wanting, needing to carry her up with him. His head turned, his lips sought hers in a grinding kiss. Their mouths ate at each other, demanding and receiving in kind.

She met him thrust for thrust, the tightness of her legs urging him on, urging him deeper. The fingers splayed over his back flexed, then tightened, as her nails clawed his skin. He swallowed her groan and felt her delicious, delicate shivers tremble up his length, milking him, snatching him further and further away from reality, while at the same time plunging him head first toward all-consuming pleasure.

It started as a small, undeniable spark in the middle of his gut. His body tightened, fighting it, wanting to prolong the sweet, torturous sensations, yet unable to. Fire burned in his blood, clouding logic, clouding any thought.

Amanda twisted beneath him as his tongue thrust into her mouth, picking up the rhythm his body had already set.

The first spasms tore through Jake's body like a knife. He couldn't fight it, no longer wanted to. The feel of her rippling around him, the sound of her raw, husky cry of satisfaction, loud in his ear, shattered Jake's world. With a low, throaty moan that might have been her name on his lips—or, quite possibly, words he would rather not have spoken—he spilled his hot, liquid fire into her.

He collapsed atop her, panting and spent. His nose nuzzled the warm hollow between her shoulder and throat. A contented sigh whispered past his lips, and his eyes drifted shut.

It wasn't until Amanda squirmed beneath him that Jake realized his weight was crushing her. With a mumbled apology, he reluctantly withdrew from the warmest, tightest place he'd ever known. He left her only long enough to fetch one of the blankets. Then he spread himself against her side and tossed the scratchy-feeling covering over them both. His arm automatically slipped beneath, scooping her close.

I want you more than I want to breathe, lady.

The huskily uttered words swirled in Amanda's mind. A slow, satisfied grin tugged at her lips as she snuggled her cheek atop the hard pillow of Jake's chest, her ears attuned to the lulling beat of his heart drumming in her ear. The heat of the fire in the hearth, combined with the lingering heat of passion, warmed her sated flesh.

"Jake?" Amanda murmured, stifling a yawn with her list.

"Hmmm?"

"How long will this last? How long will you want me the way you wanted me tonight?"

Forever, princess. I'll want to be hot and full inside of you forever. Maybe longer.

The words, boldly honest and sincere, stabbed through Jake like a knife. They paused on the very tip of his tongue, begging to be said, and it took more than a little concentration for him to swallow them back. Thinking up a safer, lighter answer wasn't easy at the moment, considering the position of their bodies, but his sense of self-preservation insisted. "How long do you want me to want you, princess?"

"Forever," she answered sleepily, on what sounded like an airy sigh, but might in reality have been another stifled yawn. "I want to feel this good forever."

His arm tightened around her shoulders, which caused her to nestle even more snugly against him. Her breasts pressed into his ribcage, her hips pressed against the side of his. One long white leg wantonly draped his thighs, as though pinning him down in case he might try to leave her.

Jake had no intention of leaving. He would need strength for that, and making love to Amanda had tapped him dry. He felt weak, depleted, drained. Apparently he wasn't the only one. Amanda's breathing had gone soft and shallow, rhythmic. The hand that had been splayed atop his abdomen was now limp, the fingers curled sleepily inward. He felt her breaths on his chest like puffs of the most delightful summer breeze.

Jake turned his head, and his cheek grazed her head. Her golden hair skimmed his sensitized skin. He glanced down, and saw that more springy curls had escaped the thick plait that trail

ed over his upper arm. The curls framed her face, softening her sleep-relaxed features.

Though his gaze tenderly roved over her face, it returned to her hair. Curious, he eyed the thick, bulky plait. He had a sudden, inexplicable urge to coax it free. Had he ever seen her with those rich gold strands falling around her? No, he realized, and he was surprised at the oversight.

He sought out and slipped free the tattered ribbon holding the fringed end of the braid in place. With fingers that shook, he worked the plait free, fluffing the silky tresses around her bare shoulders.

Her hair, he was surprised to find, was longer than he'd originally thought, and the texture was much softer as it poured between his fingers. When standing, he guessed the wavy ends would fall to well below her delectable bottom. Lord knows, he'd welcome the chance to find out—providing the delectable bottom in question was as naked as a newborn baby's at the time.

A naughty, provocative picture of exactly that burned itself into Jake's mind. A grin tugged at his lips as, with a contented sigh, he took a handful of silky waves and scattered them over his chest and belly. An odd sensation jolted through him at the unique feel of her hair tickling his bare skin. It was, he thought, a feeling comparable to no other.

And so was the other feeling that coursed like liquid fire through his veins. Loosening her braid had loosened more of her flower-soft scent. It floated around him, mingling with the charred aroma of the fire, honing his senses until he felt every warm, curvaceous inch pressed against him.

Jake felt himself tighten in response, and his steely gaze widened slightly. It would appear that again and again was coming sooner than he'd thought. Much sooner than he cared for it to.

Amanda was sleeping peacefully. He didn't want to wake her to take her again so soon, but the urgent throbbing in his body was making him reconsider. It didn't matter that he rarely wanted a woman twice, and never wanted one again this soon. It didn't matter that if he woke her to make love to her now, he would only be proving to them both just how weakened he was by her. What mattered was that he wanted her. Again. Badly.

What matters, you idiot, is that she's tired and she's sleeping, he grumbled to himself as he plowed the fingers of his free hand through his hair. He turned his head so that the gold strands were no longer tickling his cheek. His gaze strayed over the room, seeking out any distraction to occupy his thoughts from waking her up to possess her again.

Tags: Rebecca Sinclair Historical
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