"Tyson!" She caught his dark hair in her fist and yanked. "You're killing me."
"It's all good, baby," he encouraged. "I want you ready for me." His fingers pushed deep, found gold and she bucked, her back arching, as wave after wave of orgasms rocked her from head to toe.
Tyson shifted instantly, moving between her legs, thrusting deep into her silken sheath. Her muscles gripped him, fought his entry in spite of her slickness, but gave way as he powered deeper, pushing through the tight, hot folds. There was unexpected resistance and then he sank into her, holding still for a moment, savoring the absolute pleasure of being inside Libby Drake.
He leaned his head towards hers, his arms bracing him above her, his mouth seeking the sweet addicting taste of hers. His hips began to pick up a hard, quick tempo, as he lifted his head to watch the pleasure bursting through her. Passion raced through his body with the force and heat of a firestorm. No fire he'd ever fought had seemed so hot. Flames licked over his skin and burned through his gut and in his groin as the strokes grew harder and deeper and more forceful. All the while he watched her face, devouring the pleasure washing over her.
Her nails bit into his shoulder, her fingers dug into his back, once she lifted her head to press a string of kisses along his chest. Each touch drove him closer to insanity. Her fingers brushed his skin, so did the silk of her hair. Her gaze locked with his, glazed, dark with sensual need, alight with something that sent the fire crowning, flashing, searing his soul. He didn't dare believe she could love him, but she felt emotion, not just lust, and it was enough for him.
"You're so tight, Libby, and so damned hot I think I'm going to come out of this scorched for life."
Nothing in his life, not even his most erotic fantasies had prepared him for sharing Libby's body. She gasped his name again, the small, helpless plea for release tearing his last thread of control so that he caught her hips in his arms, holding her still while he plunged deep, over and over, the passion washing through him, sizzling and cracking and roaring like thunder in his ears. He felt her spasm around him, grip tightly, her soft cries mingling with his strangled one. The sensations started somewhere in his toes and slammed through his body with such force, he thought he might not survive the pleasure.
Libby dug her nails into his back, holding on to the only anchor she had as her body fragmented and the earth spun away. She lay underneath him, feeling as if her heart might explode out of her body, uncaring that it was pounding way too fast and that her lungs burned for air. Ripple after ripple shook her, and she clutched at Tyson, shocked that she could feel so much so fast, that her untutored body could respond with such powerful orgasms. She was a doctor. How often had she counseled women that it could take awhile before one had an orgasm--or multiple orgasms.
She ran her fingers through his hair, small little caresses meant to convey the enormity of what she was feeling.
Tyson lifted his head, easing his weight off of her. "You might have mentioned you wanted me to go slow, Libby. By the time I realized, it was too late."
Libby smiled up at him. "I think we can agree that things went rather well for our first time. Well, I may have rug burn."
He brushed the hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin. "You look very satisfied. Sleepy, but satisfied. I love that I put that look on your face."
"We're going to have a bit of a mess on the rug."
"I'll get another one," he said, rolling over, taking her with him so she was lying on top of him, her head on his shoulder. "I don't want to squish you."
Libby closed her eyes, loving the feel of his arms around her, of his body beneath hers, legs and arms tangled together. She let herself look around the room, something she hadn't even done up until now. It was enormous. The floor was light wood to capture the sunlight that would pour through the wall of glass facing the sea. The view was spectacular. Outside, the waves rushed toward the rocky beach beneath the bluff, soothing them both until she began to drift toward sleep.
Tyson held her close. She seemed so fragile and delicate in his arms. He had a much larger frame and he was definitely endowed. He'd been afraid of hurting her, yet she'd been eager for him, not in the least fearful. He had never imagined Libby Drake draped naked over him, her mouth pressed to his chest, and her body moving with restless abandon under his. He let her sleep for a half an hour before he moved out from under her to find a towel and clean them both up. He already wanted her again. Maybe he was destined to spend the rest of his life in a semihard state.
Libby woke to his kisses. Soft. Gentle. Tender. She kissed him back and smiled, wrapping her arm around his neck. "This is a wonderful way to wake up."
"I was missing you."
She laughed, her eyes sparkling at him. "What's it been, an entire hour?"
It gave him secret pleasure that he knew she would laugh at his remark. "I was going cross-eyed staring at you."
She leaned into him again and brushed a kiss across his mouth before wiggling free. "Bathroom."
He pointed. Libby was shocked that she didn't feel in the least bit embarrassed to walk around in front of him totally naked--in fact she enjoyed feeling his gaze on her. When she returned she deliberately walked past him to the window where the moonlight could shine down on her as she looked out to sea.
His gaze grew hot. Predatory. "You're killing me, Lib. I can't look at you without getting hard."
Libby laughed softly, feeling sexy for the first time in her life. It was a feeling she could get used to. "Really?" Deliberately she allowed her gaze to drift over his body, teasing him, provoking him. Flirting. She'd never flirted. She didn't even know how.
He came across the floor like a tiger, pouncing on her, spinning her around until she was pressed up against the glass. Both of his hands covered her breasts, his erection already thick and hard, pressed against her buttocks. "Really," he answered, bending his head to her shoulders, giving her teasing little bites that sent shivers down her back. He applied pressure, slowly bending her forward to drop kisses and bites down her spinal column. He paused to swirl his tongue over the rug burns on her back.
She pressed the palm of her hand up against the glass to steady herself, turning to look over her shoulder at Ty. His face was etched with passion, with lust, his eyes so dark with desire her breath left her lungs in a rush and her body dampened and contracted in anticipation. "You can't possibly want me again."
"You're so beautiful, Libby," he answered. He loved her naked, surrounded by the plush white rug and the open glass gleaming behind her. He hadn't yet turned on the electricity to the house but lights weren't needed. The moon spilled enough light over her body to see her curves, and the clouds threw intriguing shadows over her soft, inviting skin. Her hair was a cascade of midnight black silk falling over her shoulder and swinging free. He stroked the curve of her bottom, the inside of her thighs, moved his hand to find her slick with response. "That's what I'm looking for, baby," he approved, his voice going hoarse.
He loved the marks of possession he could see on her skin. His marks. His woman. The way she responded to him, the way she looked at him, her breathless little cries when he stroked her with his fingers, all of it was amazing to him, a new wondrous world he wanted to dwell in for the rest of his life.
She groaned aloud, her hips pushing back against him. He pushed two fingers into her, stroked and caressed until she was riding his hand with a small mindless sob. Her sheath was hot and silky, her muscles clamping tightly around him so that his own body hardened all the more. Blood rushed and pounded and he lifted his hand to slowly lick her taste from his fingers.
Libby couldn't look away from him, loving the way he made her feel so sexy, so completely his. Every touch, every look was so intense. Tyson was a single-minded man. When he researched, he gave his all. She should have known he would be a thorough, dominant lover, in the same way he approached everything else in his life. He wanted her to feel pleasure, not just that, sheer ecstasy, and he set about it with that
same purpose he did all things.
She watched his face as he caught her hips and pushed the broad head of his shaft against her bare entrance. He felt like a brand burning through her skin, pushing through tight muscles with exquisite care, invading her body inch by slow inch. She wanted to scream with pleasure, her body shaking under his caressing hands. His fingers tugged at her nipples, every stroke of his strong fingers sending electric shocks straight to her hot tight sheath.
Libby gasped for breath, pushing back with every powerful stroke. He rode her hard and fast, and then suddenly, when she was certain she would burst into flames, slowed to long, lingering strokes that nearly sent her over the edge, only to build up the speed and fierceness of his possession a second time. Every muscle, every cell seemed to coil in readiness, needing, begging for release, but he kept her on the edge, until she was certain she couldn't take the intense pleasure another moment.
Something dark moved in her mind, past the bright colors and the erotic bliss rushing through her. A tendril of insubstantial smoke, no more, but goose bumps formed on her skin. She opened her eyes and looked out the window into the cloak of darkness shrouding the house. Tyson's fingers dug into her hips, dragging her into him, sending the heat spiraling through her body until the breath slammed out of her lungs and she couldn't form a coherent thought.
But there it was again. Something moving in her mind, past all the pleasure, a twisted shadow that grew larger and larger. She thought to pause, to catch her breath, take a moment to clear her mind, but it was too late, her body betraying her, her orgasm ripping through her with such force she nearly fell, forced to clutch the glass to save herself from falling. Behind her, Tyson's fingers dug deep into her flesh, holding her to him while he emptied himself into her, his guttural cry ringing through the room. Everything around her spun out of control as her body fragmented. For one moment, Libby felt as if she could touch the sky.