Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,94

she wouldn’t wish upon him what she had suffered—and if it was possible he could take her pain, she wouldn’t allow it because it would bring her greater agony to know he endured any sort of torment.

Now she wondered if what had destroyed her mother wasn’t the pain of her father’s betrayal but a greater pain of knowing what her children would suffer and realizing she could do nothing to lessen it.

His large hand closed around the back of her slender neck, and he urged her to her feet, so he could once more blanket her mouth. Here, she thought, was the danger of being intimate with a man. Clothing provided a sort of armor, and when it was removed, things were revealed that one might never guess at. She now knew things about him that few people probably did. That his body was a sculpted marvel, like a living statue. That his impressive cock throbbed when pressed against a belly. That he had a scar, and she knew its story. He’d have never told her the tale if she’d not seen the scar. Because of all this, she felt closer to him than she ever had.

His mouth still clinging to hers, he lifted her up, cradled her in his arms, and carried her the two steps to the bed. It was a silly thing to be delighted by, when she could have gotten there easily on her own, but something in the action spoke of tenderness, of wanting to ensure she felt special. Just as he continued to stand when she walked into a room.

He laid her on the rumpled bed where he’d no doubt been when she’d knocked on his door. “Did I wake you?” she thought to ask now.

“No.” He followed her down, skimmed his forefinger around her breast. “I couldn’t sleep for thinking of you, knowing you were so damned near.”

Threading his fingers through hers, he spread her arms wide, held her there, and closed his mouth over her breast, taking as much into his mouth as he could. Licking the sensitive flesh, suckling on it. Her body felt as though he was touching all of her, every inch, inside and out. That somehow he was reshaping her, so she would never again be the same. She wanted to provide him with the same gift, to leave him as changed.

She struggled to break free of his hold.

“Still yourself. Tonight is for you.”

“I want it to be for us.”

“Then let me guide you.”

When she relaxed, he released his hold, pushed himself up, and straddled her hips. Beginning at her wrists, he glided his hands along her arms, down her sides, up over her stomach, and around her breasts.

“Spread your legs for me.”

She didn’t know if it was the low, sultry tenor of his voice or the directness of his words, but such molten heat coursed through her veins that she was surprised her blood didn’t turn to lava. The fire only intensified when he stretched out on his stomach, nestled himself between her thighs, and blew softly on the curls at the juncture. She wished for more light so she could see him clearly, was grateful there was so little he couldn’t see her in detail. She had no scars to hide, but no man had ever viewed her exposed thusly, placed her in such a vulnerable position. Yet, embarrassment made no appearance because the manner in which he tenderly trailed his fingers and lips over her made her feel treasured.

Biting her lip, she watched the firelight play over his muscled back and firm buttocks. He was magnificently built. So long, so broad.

He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. Slid his hands beneath her knees, lifted them, bent them, until her hips tilted upward, strained toward him. Then he licked her most intimate private place as though he’d discovered a dollop of cream that had been begging to be lapped up.

Just as she was now begging. She could not stop the little mewls from escaping her, and they seemed to incite his enthusiasm for the task at hand. She had known an intimacy was to be experienced when a man and woman came together, but hadn’t known it would delve so deep, would consume her until the world around her faded away and there remained only him, his body, his hands, his fingers, his tongue, his mouth. Kissing, stroking, sucking, tugging, conquering.

That was how it felt. As though she was on the verge of