A Rogues Proposal (Cynster 4) - Page 87

"Let go." His lips touched hers briefly-hotly. "Throw your heart over."

She heard the raspy order as he touched her again-she obeyed, and soared high.

Her world exploded.

She lost her senses utterly-lost all touch with reality. She was swept up by a force she couldn't describe-hot and powerful, it propelled her into pleasure. Deep, bone-melting pleasure.

It surrounded her like a sea, and left her floating in ecstasy.

To her surprise, her senses returned, heightened but focused solely on him. She felt his hard hands, first gentling, then gripping her, felt the force surge and sweep through his body-and into hers as he drove deep into her molten flesh. She heard his guttural groan as the force caught him, too.

Then he joined her in the void. She felt the warmth of him deep in her womb. Felt the heat of his body beneath her hands as she clung to him, and surrendered.

To the force behind their passion.

Eons later in the depths of the night, she awoke. Slowly, as always. Her mind struggled free of the wisps of sleep, only to slide into mists of confusion.

Her nerves made the dizzying leap from somnolence to excitement-befuddled by sleep, she couldn't understand why. It was full dark. She was lying on her back in the middle of a comfortable bed. A tickling sensation-it had started at the base of her stomach, just above her curls-that was what had woken her-was slowly progressing up her body. Over her stomach, past her navel, over her waist, steadily upward.

Some part of her mind was shrieking for her to react-but her limbs were too weighted-pleasurably weighted-for her to make any rash move. The tickling changed to nuzzling beneath her breasts, then warm kisses followed one curve up and over.

Demon's mouth closed over her nipple.

She sucked in a tortured breath and abruptly came to life. Not, however, quite as her mind intended. Held between his hands, she arched, flagrantly offering her breast-he accepted immediately, laving the tip, then taking it deep in his mouth.

Flick heard a soft, strangled cry-then realized it was hers. The searing wetness shocked her anew. Opening her eyes, she looked down. "What-?"

She couldn't see him in the dark, but she could feel him. Her heart hitched, then started to canter as she felt his hair-roughened legs between hers, the solid weight of his hips spreading her thighs wide. The heat of his body as he hovered over her, mere inches distant, sent her heart into a gallop. When she realized that her senses hadn't lied-that there was no longer any garment, no matter how fine, between them, that his wicked lips and wickeder mouth were teasing her bare skin, and that, any second, his hard hot body would lie directly, skin to naked skin, on hers-her heart started to race.

"Relax."

The deep purring murmur came out of the dark as he lifted his head from her breast. After a moment he added, as if to explain, "I want you again."

Those four gravelly words went straight to her heart-then straight to her loins. He'd pushed her chemise up to her arms-when he tugged, she dragged in a massive breath, and obliged, lifting her arms and letting him draw the thin garment off over her head.

Leaving her naked beneath him.

What followed was a second lesson in sheer delight. In the dark of the night, in the depths of the bed, he touched her, caressed her, then, when her body was aching with urgent longing, filled her.

She lay on her back and let sensation wash over her-let her mind supply what she couldn't see. The cotton sheets formed a cocoon about them, cool against her fevered skin. The mattress was thick enough to cushion her against the powerful surges of his possession.

Arms braced, he loomed above her, a shadow lover in the night; he held himself over her as their bodies did what seemed to come naturally. To them both.

She couldn't deny she enjoyed it thoroughly, that she joyfully put her heart and soul into the exercise every bit as much as did he. She enjoyed feeling his body merging with hers, enjoyed the deep sense of completion that came, borne on that final surrender.

Enjoyed the weight of him when he collapsed, spent, upon her.

Enjoyed the feeling of having him so deeply within her.

Demon woke as dawn tinged the sky and crept into the room to lay its pale fingers on the bed. In their light he saw an angel-his angel-sprawled asleep by his side.

She was facing away from him, half on her stomach.

For a long moment, he studied her golden curls while vivid memories rolled through his brain. Then, slowly, careful not to jar her, he came up on one elbow, then reached out and gently lifted the sheet, and drew it down.

She was more perfect than he'd thought-more beautiful than his imagination had been able to conjure. As the light about them strengthened, he looked his fill, drank in the sight of firm curves and slender limbs covered in flawless ivory skin-skin he knew felt like silk to his touch.

And would heat with gratifying swiftness if he touched her.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Cynster Historical
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