All About Love (Cynster 6) - Page 84

He couldn't seem to look away. He knelt on the bed, first one knee, then the other. A ripple of excitement shivered down her spine as he crawled on all fours to come over her. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to her.

It was a shock-a sensual shock-feeling his hard weight settle upon her, sensing his strength, the reined power in his body, feeling the rasp of crisp hair against her sensitive skin. He caught her hands and moved them to his shoulders. He looked into her eyes, then dipped his head.

"We're going to take this slowly. Very, very slowly."

Was he murmuring to her, or repeating an injunction to himself? His lips brushed hers, then slid along her jaw until he nuzzled her throat. His hands pressed down into the mattress, easing beneath her. They traced down her back, caressing as they went. They stopped at her hips, closing possessively.

"This is going to hurt. You know that, don't you?"

She lay beneath him, feeling his heat surround her, feeling her own heat rise in response. His hips lay across her thighs, his erection hot and heavy between them. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Yes."

He said nothing more, asked nothing more. His hands slid lower, tracing the backs of her thighs, then gripping and parting them. He settled between, reached between.

He caressed her, over and over until she thought she'd scream. Her body arched beneath his and still he stroked, probed. She was slick and wet, all but melting when he withdrew his hand; gripping her hips, he eased into her.

It did hurt, but from the first touch of that incredibly soft skin at the entrance to her body, where she so longed to feel him, she knew she couldn't live without having him inside her. The conviction was so strong that despite the discomfort, she tilted her hips to urge him in.

He stilled, fingers clamping hard about her hips, anchoring her. "No-just lie still." The words were strained, uttered against her throat. He waited until she eased back before pressing inward once more.

Slowly, steadily, he filled her. She felt her body stretching and marveled. Then he stopped. He lifted his head, found her lips, and kissed her deeply. She responded eagerly, breathless and yearning-quite for what, she wasn't sure.

She had only an instant's warning-the sudden coiling tension that gripped him. He drew back and thrust into her.

Her scream spilled into their mouths; she arched beneath him, but almost immediately the sharp pain receded. She eased back, into the bed, tensed muscles gradually releasing. He lay still, upon her, within her, and kissed her. She kissed him back, letting him catch her up in the caress, willingly following his lead.

His experienced lead; she realized that when he finally lifted his head. Her body felt invaded, he lay heavy within her, but the pain was gone. He looked down at her, dark eyes glinting. His expression was one she'd never seen before, set and locked, passion-driven. He searched her face-she had no idea what he saw, but it seemed to reassure him. Bending his head, he set his lips to hers. Her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, she gave herself up to the kiss, up to him. Then he moved.

Until he did, the sensation of being so stretched, so filled, hadn't fully registered. As he withdrew, then returned, riding her slowly, the sensual realization impinged again and again.

Her body stirred beneath him. She found his rhythm and matched him, rising to meet him. The effortless joining, the repetitive glide of his body into hers, became her reality. His body shifted against hers, crisp hair rasping her sensitized skin. She slowly heated as if he were fanning a furnace deep within her. Her senses swirled, whirled; the surge of his tongue into her mouth mirrored his possession of her body.

She was his-her fingers tightened, sinking into the muscles of his upper arms. She held tight as the world fell away and only they remained, skin to heated skin. Desire lapped, a warm sea washing over them, through them.

He said it would be slow-she'd felt no sense of urgency, not at first. But something-some compulsion, some blinding physical need-was steadily swelling inside her. Something hot, tight, coiling inside her-with every thrust he touched it, stoked it, fanned the flames higher.

She drew back from the kiss with a gasp; pressing her head back, into the bed, she arched and struggled to breathe, struggled to urge him nearer. Deeper. She needed him there, deep and hard-suddenly, she was sure of it.

He raised up, arms bracing, lifting his chest from hers; his next thrust rocked her.

She gasped again; her fingers trailed, nails sharp, down his chest. The crisp hair that brushed her palms focused her mind on the feel of crisp hair rasping between her widespread thighs. Spreading her hands, she ran them over his ribs, then around-the heat inside her coiled tighter, almost painfully tight… she rose, hands sliding to his back, then clinging tight as she lifted her lips to his.

He took them in a kiss that was almost savage-his weight shifted. He leaned on one arm, his other hand curving over her bottom, tucking her hard against him, holding her there as he thrust deeply-again, again.

The heat inside her exploded; her lower body clenched. A silvery sensation, brittlely intense, speared through her, then the spasm dissolved in a burst of glory. A river of feeling welled and washed through her, soothing away her compulsive heat, leaving a different warmth in its place.

She clung to him and rode the warm tide.

He laid her down, then followed, but he rolled onto his side, then onto his back, taking her with him. She ended sprawled atop him with him still hard within her. She'd melted-she couldn't move. Resting her head on his chest, she lay and luxuriated in heavenly delight.

How much time passed before her wits reengaged and she realized she still lay naked atop him, with his hand lazily, yet somehow intently, stroking her naked bottom, she didn't know. The realization was suddenly there, along with another-he was still hard within her, filling her. His body was still strung tight with that tension she now recognized. He hadn't…

She lifted her head and looked into his face. He studied her eyes, then raised a brow. She blushed, grateful he couldn't see it in the moonlight. "What now?" Presumably there was a next step.

His lips curved, his eyes glinted. "I did say we'd take it slowly."

Her skin was still heated, dewed where he caressed; in contrast, the air felt cool. She had felt relaxed to her toes, but tension was returning along with her wits. She licked her lips. "What does that mean?"

His wicked smile flashed. "It's easier to demonstrate."

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Cynster Historical
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