“You said I was small.”
“You are. But I never said I didn’t like small.” He lowered his head to her again and kept up that particular pleasure-giving caress until her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
“I want to see you.” She surprised herself by saying that. But she didn’t lower her gaze in maidenly bashfulness. She met his steadily. “Take off your shirt. Please.”
Her polite afterthought amused him, but he made no comment on it as he peeled off his shirt. Holding it out to his side, he dropped it to the floor. He stood perfectly still, indulging her curiosity.
She smiled compassionately over the angry red scrape the bullet had left. She wouldn’t dwell on how close he had come to being seriously wounded or killed. It made her slightly ill to think about it. She pushed the thought from her mind and, as they had agreed to do, centered her thoughts on loving.
Her touch was delicate and inquisitive when she first laid her hands on the upper, curving portion of his chest. The hair was intriguing, and she combed her fingers through it. It spread in a wide fan shape over his breasts, then funnelled to a silky stripe down the center of his stomach. She bracketed his rib cage with her hands and moved them down as far as his waist, then back up, letting her fingers climb over each rib. They finally came to rest beneath the solid, curved muscles. Her thumbs came dangerously close to touching his nipples before they shied away.
She looked up at him inquiringly. “Touch me like I do you,” he said tightly. His face was taut and his breath was rushing between his teeth.
Against her fingertips, the feel of his erect nipples was erotic and exciting. His trembling response to her caress gave her courage. She shed the remains of her shyness and did what she had long wanted to do, she nuzzled him with her mouth. When her lips touched his nipple, both of them sighed with pleasure. She rubbed her tongue against it with no more hurry than a languid kitten at his morning bath. It came as a mild surprise to her that she derived as much pleasure from sucking it tenderly as it obviously gave Linc. Reflexively he thrust his manhood forward, rubbing it rhythmically against her.
When he could stand no more, he pushed her away and angled her head back. “I thought tonight would get you out of my system,” he ground out. “Now I’m not so sure. You’re a powerful narcotic, Kerry.”
He kissed her, sending his tongue into the satiny warmth of her mouth. With an impatience bordering on violence, he ended the kiss. Taking her hand, he led her across the room to a chair near the window. He sat down in it. She remained standing in front of him.
“Take off your nightgown.”
Kerry swallowed a knot of trepidation. He had removed her clothing today, but they’d been in an embrace. Disrobing in front of him, strictly for his entertainment, caused her heart to flutter with anxiety.
But with something else, too. The only name she could put to this odd sensation was titillation. She had a deep-seated desire to tantalize and dazzle the worldly Lincoln O’Neal.
Her eyes took on a mysterious quality, a seductiveness, a lambency, a knowledge as old as Eve. Kerry turned her back on him. She sensed that he was about to make a protest but withheld it when he saw her cross her arms over her chest and move her hands to the shoulder straps of her nightgown. They were thin. It took the merest flick of her wrists to lower them. They slipped to her elbows. With painstaking slowness she relaxed her arms until they dropped to her sides. When that happened, the nightgown slithered from her body and fell to the floor.
She could almost feel Linc’s eyes burning into her back. She knew he was taking in her figure, the way her waist melded into the flare of her hips. Was he pleased? Had he noticed the dimples at the base of her spine? Did he find them cute? Sexy? Fascinating? Was he entranced by the shape of her bottom? Did her thighs look heavy and lumpy?
She stepped out of the pool of fabric at her feet and turned around slowly until she was facing him. She kept her eyes lowered. When she gathered enough courage to look at him, what she saw in his eyes caused her heartbeat to soar.
“Let your hair loose.”
That wasn’t what she had expected him to say, but the gritty inflection of his voice told her what she wanted and needed to know. He liked what he saw.
She dragged the single braid over her shoulder. The curling end of it lay against her bare breast. Her attentive audience wet his lips. She pulled the rubber band off the end of the braid. Then, unlooping the strands slowly, she made a ballet of unraveling it.
Linc watched every graceful movement of her fingers, as though she were executing an intricate task that required incredible talent and perfect timing. When the entire braid was undone, she tossed the heavy skein of hair over her shoulder.
“Shake your head.” Kerry moved her head from side to side. Her hair undulated over her skin in a slow sweep. “Comb your fingers through it.” She lifted handfuls of her hair up and away from her face, pulling it through her widespread fingers until every strand had been filtered through. It fell over her shoulders and chest, almost reaching the tips of her breasts.
Linc’s chest was soughing in and out. She knew that he was about to explode, but when he made his move, she still wasn’t braced for it.
His hands shot out and clasped her waist. With one motion, he moved to the edge of the chair and pulled her forward. His open mouth landed with a soft, damp impact on her naked belly and she gave a sharp cry of surprise.
He kissed her fervently, several times, stopping only long enough to move his lips from one spot to another. His arms went around her. His hands cupped her bottom, and his caresses stole her breath with the unrestricted license they took. She laid her hands on the sides of his head, curling her fingers around his ears, and watched as his dear head moved from side to side, branding her with his hot, ardent kisses. His breath stirred the triangle of downy hair before she felt his lips moving in it.
Her knees gave way and she made another whimpering sound that snapped him to his senses. He stood up and enfolded her in his embrace. He murmured endearments spiced with expletives. The words stumbled over one another and became erotic lyrics that thrilled and aroused Kerry even more.
When he slipped his hand between her thighs, they parted without hesitation. It seemed right that he favored that part of her with gentle probings that took his fingers deep inside. She softly cried his name.
“Does that hurt?” Her answer was a wordless, mindless tossing of her head. “I’ll never hurt you again, Kerry. I swear it.”
As he kissed her, he unzipped his pants and shoved them down his legs. It took some doing, but he stepped out of them without having to release her mouth from his tempestuous kiss.
She felt him, warm and hard and urgent against her. In a leisurely manner that in no way matched their clamorous passions, he smoothed his hand down the back of her thigh and gently lifted it up over his.
When the most intimate parts of their bodies touched, she reacted with total abandonment, throwing her head back until her hair almost reached her waist and arching against him to bring his sex to the very portal of hers.