He loved her laughter and let it soothe him, but he didn’t want her to think Trap didn’t pay attention to his wife. “Trap adores Cayenne.” Still, he liked that she was annoyed with Trap. The man had money, was good-looking and had two good legs.
“He may adore her, honey, but to dismiss the fact that she might give birth any moment because there are doctors around is ludicrous. She’s counting on him and he’s thinking with some lofty part of his brain, not his heart. He needs to be her husband, not her doctor, who, by the way, has never actually delivered a baby out of his va-jay-jay so he needs to be just a little more thoughtful on the subject.”
Malichai stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. “I’m falling more in love with you every minute. I do have to agree with you there. Trap thinks she can deliver a baby and just go right on fighting in the jungle. He might get a bit of a surprise with this one.”
“So, stop worrying about me wanting to be with someone else, it’s ludicrous.”
“I don’t stack up very well against men who have two legs and can take care of the enemy while I lie in bed twiddling my thumbs.” He laid it out for her.
Amaryllis stared at him for a long time. Too long. His stomach dropped. She knelt up on the bed in front of him, framed his face with both hands and leaned in to brush her lips against his. Featherlight. The touch sent desire slipping into every cell in his body. Gently. A unique invasion. The sensation was so gentle, barely there, but every bit as impactful, craving building slowly but never stopping.
Then her teeth tugged at his lower lip. Her tongue slid along the seam of his mouth. He opened his mouth and she was there, pouring need and passion into him. Pouring something else that felt like love. He was so unfamiliar with that emotion that at first, he wasn’t certain what it was that surrounded him and lifted him up. That he chased after. That he craved.
His arms went around her, locking her to him, and he took over the kiss. He was rougher than he intended, but she was driving him insane with need. With the possibility that she really would choose him no matter what.
“Lose the panties, Amaryllis.” He kept kissing her, his hand in her hair, bunching it in his fist, making it difficult for her to comply, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep kissing her. Her taste, the one that sent that emotion rocketing through his body, moving through him to center in his groin, drove him beyond all sanity. He wanted her with every breath he took. He needed her right then even more than that.
She struggled to obey him, dragging her jeans and panties down her legs all the while kissing him back. It should have been awkward and impossible, but somehow, they made it work, and then she was straddling his lap, lowering herself slowly over him.
His cock was on fire. Burning. Throbbing. It felt like a steel spike and she felt so tight as she sheathed him, inch by slow inch, that he thought his head might explode. She strangled him, a scorching-hot vise surrounding him with a silken fist.
Malichai threw back his head, wanting to roar with pleasure, but he stayed as silent as possible when she began to move at his urging. “That’s it, baby, ride me.” His hands guided her.
Amaryllis caught on fast, her muscles squeezing, biting down as she moved up and down his shaft, massaging and milking, the friction almost unbearable. He wasn’t certain if it was pleasure he’d never known, or passion that bordered and rode that fine edge of pain because that silken fist was so tight. Whichever it was didn’t matter, because he never wanted it to stop.
She threw back her head and picked up the pace so that his breath exploded out of his lungs in time with hers. She looked beautiful, exotic, so perfect there in the dark, her body surrounding his, his cock buried deep inside her. He loved knowing she was his woman. Some men needed many to make themselves feel like a man. He had always needed one. The only. Now that he had her, he knew why.
Every movement of her body sent little bolts of lightning forking through his entire being, so that flames rushed through his veins like a drug. His hips thrust hard, an automatic, nearly desperate response. He never wanted this to end. He let himself get lost in her, in all that fiery heat. He caught her hips and took over, using his strength to power her body to pound down over his. Each streak of that tight silken fist pounding up and down his shaft and over the sensitive crown nearly had him losing all control.