Her lids flickered; he glimpsed her eyes, wide pupils circled in startling blue. She trembled; her breath caught, then she slowly exhaled. He stroked her thigh, the long quivering muscle, then the delicate inner face-he stroked upward, brushing her lips when she shuddered, letting her cling when, with the backs of his fingers, he caressed her quivering stomach.
Then, very slowly, he let his fingers glide down, tracing the crease at the top of one thigh, then the other, then, easing back from their kiss, he gently pressed two fingers into the silken curls between her thighs.
She sucked in a breath; a sharp quiver lanced through her. Her eyes were shut, but he watched her face, watched the expressions-anticipation, excitement, sharp delight and flaring need-flow across her features as he caressed her, then parted the soft folds and touched her intimately. She was already hot, already plump and swollen; he played, and damp quickly became wet. He found the tight nubbin hidden in its hood; he circled it with a moistened fingertip-her breath hitched, she shuddered; wildly clutching his shoulders, she sought his lips with hers.
He kissed her, but kept the caress light-he wanted her concentrating on his fingers, not his lips. With his hand at her back, he eased her forward another inch, so she was close, very close, to the edge-instinctively, she raised her knees and gripped his hips for balance.
If he could have grinned triumphantly, he would have.
She was fully exposed-to his touch, to him. He touched, caressed, then, very gently, probed her slick, soft flesh. He found her entrance-ignoring the sudden heightening of her tension, he eased one finger in, then, in the instant she caught her breath, slid it slowly, inexorably, into her heat.
She dragged her lips from his on a gasp; he felt the shudder that racked her in his bones. Her body closed hotly about his finger. Recapturing her lips, he kissed her-no longer lightly but deeply, evocatively. He stroked her in the same way.
Flick couldn't think, she couldn't reason-she couldn't imagine how she'd survive. She was hot
, so hot; her skin felt afire. The flames that had started deep inside had spread to every extremity; her whole skin felt tight. As for her nerves, they were stretched so taut, so tense in anticipation of his next caress, of the next, deeply intimate invasion, that if it didn't come soon she knew she'd fly apart.
If she'd had enough breath left, she would have sobbed.
With pleasure.
She couldn't understand that. She couldn't even think of what he was doing-what she was letting him do to her. Her stunned brain wouldn't hold the mental image. She'd had no idea physical intimacy would prove so shocking. So exciting. So mind-numbing.
So gloriously delicious.
And they hadn't even got to the culmination-the moment when their bodies would join. She knew what that entailed, yet…
A little knowledge was a dangerous thing.
Luckily, her lover was experienced-exceedingly experienced if her state was any guide. She was panting, squirming, ready to kill for that next bit of sensation, his next caress, the next experience he had in store.
If he didn't hurry up and give it to her, she was quite sure she'd die.
Demon was well aware of her state-not once had he stopped tracking it. He withdrew his finger from her only to slide another in beside it, deliberately stretching her, preparing her. She squirmed and adjusted instantly. He reached deep-her gasp shuddered into a soft sob. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder; he could feel her soft pants hot against his skin.
He no longer needed to hold her to him-there was no chance she would scoot back. Leaving the hand between her thighs still probing in a slow, repetitive rhythm, with the other he slipped the buttons on his trousers and guided them down his hips. He uttered a wordless thanks to fate that he was in his town rig, with shoes, not boots; he toed the shoes off, let his trousers fall, stepped out of them and kicked them away.
She felt him shift-greedy hands grasped his shoulders, hauling him to her. Momentarily off-balance, he went with her pull-then gasped, biting back a groan as his throbbing erection hit the dressing table's edge.
Her thighs were still wide, her knees clamped to his now naked hips. He drew in a breath, nudged her head up, and found her lips again. He caught her up in the kiss, then drew his hand from her slick heat; one hand at her back, he eased her forward a fraction more-until the broad head of his staff nudged into her hot softness.
Abruptly, she drew back from the kiss. Arms locked about his shoulders, she blinked dazedly as their gazes met. She licked her lips, then glanced at the bed. "Aren't we?…"
"No." He could hardly speak. The effort of holding still, poised at her entrance, her slickness scalding him like hot honey, was turning his muscles to jelly. "This way will be easier for you this time." She was small; to lie beneath him, trapped by his weight, might not be wise-not for her first time.
Her lips formed an Oh-she risked a glance down, but her chemise, stretched across her thighs, blocked her view. She cleared her throat. "How?…"
His pained grin never made it to his face. "Easily. Just-like…" He pressed nearer, simultaneously drawing her to the very edge of the table-he sank into her. "This."
The look on her face was one he would treasure all his life-her eyes widened as he entered her, slowly pushing in, stretching her softness. She was oh, so tight, but, to his relief, she didn't freeze, didn't tense. He didn't stop-feeling her untried body ease about him, he penetrated her steadily, inexorably filling her until she'd taken him in to the hilt and he was buried in her sweet heat.
Her fractured "Oh!" shivered in the air. Her lids fell-she hauled in a huge breath. Then she tensed.
Scalding hot, she closed about him, so tight he thought he'd lose his mind.
He trapped her lips and only just managed to catch his reins and haul back on the savage urge to ravish her-her mouth, her hot softness, the luscious vessel of her body. Although reeling himself, he caught her senses and steadied her-in so doing, he steadied himself.
Releasing her lips, dragging in a huge breath, clamping a firm hold on his instincts-where she was concerned, too primal, too raw-he anchored her before him, withdrew, and slid home again.