Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard 14)

She knew what the problem was. Michael, of course. She wanted him, and the longer he held her in his arms, the stronger the craving became. She wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. She was an adult, and she didn’t think there was anything wrong with having sex with a man she cared about. But she would not be the aggressor again. If he wanted her as much as she wanted him, he would have to make the first move. Maybe he was fighting the same battle she was and was just as miserable. That pleasing possibility was snatched away a moment later when his breathing became deep and even. He had already fallen asleep.

Gritting her teeth, she began counting sheep again. One little sheep... two little sheep...

She reached forty-two sheep and stopped counting long enough to vow that Michael would have to beg her before she let him touch her again. Beg, no matter what, and even then she just might say no. She started counting again, sincerely hoping that by the time she reached two hundred little sheep, she would be ready to fall asleep.

“Isabel?” Michael whispered as though he didn’t want to wake her.

She rolled over in his arms. “Yes?”

“I want you.”

Did he beg? Close enough, she decided. She kissed the side of his neck. “I want you, too.”

She loved the way he kissed her. He tugged on her hair to get her to tilt her head back, and then his mouth covered hers in a scorching kiss. His tongue penetrated and stroked hers, receded, and penetrated again and again in the mating ritual that drove her wild. He held nothing back.

Keeping her tightly against him, he rolled and pinned her beneath him. Each kiss was hotter, wilder. He lifted his head and let out a long raspy breath in an attempt to slow down.

The passion ignited so quickly and became so intense, she didn’t know how he got her clothes off and then his. Their bodies melded together, clinging to each other. The hair on his chest rubbed against her breasts when he moved, sending the most erotic sensations rushing through her body.

He slowly moved down her body, kissing every inch of her. He caressed her breasts, and when his tongue stroked her nipples, she cried out and nearly came off the bed.

She moved restlessly against him, pushing up against his arousal. She wanted to touch him, to drive him crazy, but Michael wouldn’t let her. His mouth covered hers again in a wet, hot kiss, and then he lifted up and held her gaze as the palm of his hand slid down between her thighs. She was ready for him. But that wasn’t enough. He wanted her out of her mind with desire for him.

“Michael, please,” she begged. She thought she would die if he made her wait any longer.

He pushed her thighs apart, hesitated until she looked into his eyes, and then thrust inside. “You’re so tight, so perfect...”

Her body was throbbing for release. She barely understood what he was saying to her. He started moving, slowly at first, but his need soon overrode his desire to make it last. He thrust again and again, harder and faster, spurred on by her demand for more.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, her nails digging into his shoulders, and she cried out his name as her orgasm burst upon her. It was magnificent.

Michael was there with her, though he didn’t shout her name. He whispered it over and over as he climaxed deep inside her.

Spent, he collapsed on top of her and for several minutes all that could be heard was their harsh breathing as each tried to recover. He could feel her heart beating under his. He finally found enough strength to roll onto his back, but he kept Isabel wrapped in his arms. He couldn’t stop touching her, stroking her shoulders, her back, her amazingly perfect backside.

It took a while for Isabel to recover. She had never been so overcome by an emotion. It scared her a little because she couldn’t control it, and God help her if she became dependent on Michael loving her.

Crazy thoughts, she decided. She didn’t want to worry about anything right now. Lying there with him seemed the most natural thing in the world. Although it didn’t make any sense, she was feeling content and wonderfully lethargic.

“Isabel, baby, are you all right?”

“Yes,” she answered. The side of her face rested against his chest.

Michael stacked his hands behind his head. When she sat up and straddled his hips, his breath caught in his throat. He thought she was the most beautiful and provocative woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was in wild disarray around her shoulders, her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her cheeks were pink from rubbing against his day’s growth of whiskers. He pulled her down for a long kiss.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

“For you, yes,” he agreed. “And you’re insatiable for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

He looked arrogantly pleased with her honesty.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“I have two words for you.”

“Thank you?”

She laughed. “You think I was going to say ‘thank you’?”

“You should. I was pretty spectacular, and I do believe you screamed my name a few times.”

The smile in his eyes distracted her for a second. He was such a handsome devil. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Then what?” he asked. “What two words?”

She slowly trailed her fingertips down his chest. “My turn.”