body responded, aching, tingling, burning.
It was such a relief not to fight this anymore. Dylan broke off the kiss, still holding her close. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good.” Dylan bent and swung her into his arms, then turned for the hall. Duster rose and followed them. In the door to his bedroom, Dylan stopped. “I have condoms, if—”
“I’m on the pill,” she said. She’d loved that Dylan always made sure they were protected, no matter how wild or frantic they were. He’d been that way with her. No matter how high she flew, Dylan was a steady hand on the kite string.
He leaned down to kiss her again. She closed her mind against the near loss of her sister, her mother’s cruelty, the accident, the troubles at Wharton, everything but her body coming alive in Dylan’s arms—the man she still loved, who loved her still.
She breathed him in—his spicy cologne and that sweet smell of his skin, stronger now, as if physical desire drew honey from his pores.
Desire flooded her in slow, thick waves, dissolving every ounce of resistance.
This was Dylan, who understood her, who knew her body as well as his own, who knew how to please her. She could let go, trust his mouth and hands and body to give her what she wanted. She yearned to be part of him, for him to be part of her, so close they hardly knew where one body ended and the other began.
* * *
DYLAN HAD MEANT only to offer Tara a safe place to stay after her mother’s verbal attack. Instead he was taking her to bed. He held her sweet body in his arms, kissed her soft mouth. It seemed crazy and utterly right at once.
In his room, he set her on her feet, then helped her out of her top and slacks. Tara kicked off her shoes. He drank her in—beautiful, long-limbed, wearing white lace panties and bra. Her eyes glittered, her lips were puffy from his assault. He wanted her now, all of her, more than he wanted his next breath.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the swell of her breasts above the lace, or the way her stomach muscles shivered, anticipating his touch. He whipped off his shirt, tossed it away.
She held his face in both hands and pressed her lips there, sliding, teasing, her tongue easing in, exploring him. “I’ve missed your taste and the sweet smell of you.” She kissed him more intently, pulling at him, as if to draw life itself from his mouth. At the same time, she undid his zipper, then pushed his pants and boxers down with her hands, then her foot.
He kicked his pants away, and pulled her closer, spreading his fingers to hold more of her ribs and back.
Tara jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He cupped her bottom and turned for the bed, reaching down to rip the covers out of the way. He laid her on the sheet. She was in his bed, the woman who’d filled his dreams, whose body was heaven to him.
Leaning over her, he unclipped her bra and cupped her impossibly soft breasts, the nipples pink, pebbled with arousal. He lifted one to his mouth, ran his tongue around its surface, while she shuddered and gasped.
“That feels...so...good,” she said.
He wanted to be inside her, to make her come, to come himself. It was a pulse in his head, a throb along his nerves. He fought to get control, to take it slow. He ran his fingers over her through her panties.
She moaned, then reached for him, her fingers tight around his shaft, making him hers.
They moved in rhythm, fingers and lips and hips, like they’d been together all this time, as if they’d never stopped making love, taking each other higher and higher. Somewhere in his half-gone brain he knew he was carried away, making far too much of the moment, but he didn’t care. Lust surged through him, unstoppable as the blood in his veins.
“Get...inside...me.” She was struggling to get her panties off. He helped her, throwing them to the floor. She bent her knees and guided him between her thighs. He looked into her eyes, saw how much she wanted this...wanted him. She used to whisper in his ear, You’re my home.
He’d wanted to be. The idea swelled in him, enflaming the primal need to protect her, to keep her safe and well, to sacrifice his own life for hers if he had to.
With