Blue moon - By Lori Handeland Page 0,53
been trying to get their hands on my breasts. I had been trying to keep them off. No one had called my breasts amazing. The nicest thing a man had said about them was that they were "fucking big."
But in Cadotte's dark, serene eyes I saw the truth. I was beautiful. At least until the sun came up.
He flicked a finger at my pants. "Take ' em off."
Happy to.
I kicked my boots across the room, lifted my hips, and slid the ugly tan trousers down my legs. My white cotton granny undies joined them. I might wear hooker bras, but I did not appreciate underwear that rode my crack like dental floss.
I lay on the bed and he towered over me. "Such soft skin." He trailed a finger up my knee. "Strong legs.
Everything about you is beautiful."
"I-I like to swim." Why I felt the need to talk, I have no idea.
"I like it that you swim, too."
"I have a pond. On my land. The old Macray place."
"Shh." He leaned over and kissed my belly. The urge to talk left completely.
The bed dipped, but instead of covering me with his body and plunging away - which would have worked for me - he stretched his length next to mine, held his head with one hand, and trailed the other from my hip, across my belly, and back again.
"Let me touch you, Jessie. I've been waiting forever."
I nearly pointed out that I'd only known him a few days, but I hesitated at branding myself a slut.
Besides, I felt like I'd known him a long time. I seemed to have wanted him for a lifetime.
Dangerous thoughts those, so I closed my mind against them and closed my eyes against all the things I saw flicker across his face as he touched me.
How long we lay there, kissing, discovering, trailing fingertips across chests, hips, thighs, I'm not sure.
When I opened my eyes, the dawn had spun gray shadows through my bedroom. I'd neglected to draw the shades again. I didn't care.
His body was even more spectacular in the daylight than it had been by the light of the moon. Just seeing him made me want him.
He kissed me and got off the bed. The rustle of clothes, the crackle of paper, the snap of rubber - he'd come prepared. I was glad, since until this moment I hadn't even thought of protection. Would I have let him do me on the floor without it? I guess I'd never know.
When he rose over me and at last came inside, I kept my eyes open. I wanted to see his face; I wanted to watch my hands stroke his chest, my thumb tease a nipple. I wanted to know how he looked as I tightened and pulsed around him.
His eyes didn't cross, though mine did. He made no sound; I had to. He held me and stroked me both inside and out, until I was gasping, breathless, limp.
I came back to myself and realized he was still big and hard inside me. Heat flooded my face. "What - ?"
He swallowed my question with a kiss, didn't stop tonguing me until I stopped trying to talk. Only then did he begin to move again.
I'd always considered reports of multiple orgasms an urban legend. Guess I was wrong.
He reached between us, stroked me where I was already sensitive until I was writhing and gasping, on the edge all over again. Then he lifted my hips and filled me with a firm, sure thrust. I felt him where I'd never felt anyone before.
His hands taught me the rhythm. First fast, then slow, then something in between. Seeming to grow, to swell, he throbbed to the beat of my pulse. I gasped, tightened, came again as his teeth scraped the curve of my neck.
He collapsed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. Trapped for a moment, I suddenly realized how big he was, how strong. Panic fluttered for an instant, until his palm cupped my hip and he rolled to the side. Our noses nearly brushed. In his eyes I saw uncertainty. Something I understood very well.
My chest tightened. My belly fluttered. My unease was pushed aside by the urge to make that expression go away.
So I touched his face and murmured, "Uncle."
Chapter 22
I fell asleep with my hand still on his face. I'd been exhausted when I got home. Incredible sex had given me a second wind, but there was only so much a girl