An Unsinkable Love - By Terri Benson Page 0,64

loomed over her. "Finish it," he begged. She undid the fastenings of his trousers and shoving them down as he wriggled to help. Then suddenly he was there, hot and hard.

She felt his manhood pulsing against her hip. His hands were relentless on her body, touching, caressing, tempting. Oh, God! This is exquisite torture.

"I want you now, my sweet. But I won't force you. Will you have me?" Malcolm murmured.

"Yes." The word would have been a scream, if he hadn't smothered it with a kiss. Her nails raked his shoulders; her hands straining to pull him close as her body commanded more. More.

His hand slipped under her and shifted her hips. His knee, already sending her into paroxysms as it continued to rub along the sensitive mound, pushed her thighs apart. He drew back a fraction and stared deep into her eyes. She nodded encouragement. She felt him probe, the velvety softness pushing, entering. She bucked against him at the fleeting moment of pain. Then the sting was only a vague memory.

Excitement—no, something much, much more—grew as he slowly thrust deeper. He filled her and a sense of greedy anticipation grew. She couldn't stop now, wouldn't let him stop. She had to know where he was taking her. Needed to 205

An Unsinkable Love

by Terri Benson

know what she would find there. Malcolm moved inside her slowly. An overwhelming sense of wanting more—more of him, more of the intoxicating feelings he stirred, enveloped her. She clutched at him, lunging to meet his thrusts. Words of love and surrender tumbled from Bree's lips as she buried her face in his neck.

His pace increased. Malcolm's breath came harsh and quick. She pulled back, watching him. His eyes were closed and an expression of exultation lit his features. Bree felt a new spark deep within her. It burst into flames and scorched her soul with a sudden fiery explosion, threatening to consume her. "Malcolm!" The sudden sensation brought tears to her eyes. A sob rose, as she tried to comprehend the incredible feeling that emerged from where he joined with her. The sensation washed over her, leaving her sensitive to each inch of his skin touching hers. She wondered if they had somehow melted together, like the silk of her stockings to her legs. With a final thrust, he groaned and collapsed on top of her, his mouth finding her neck and giving her nibbling kisses as his arms clasped her tightly. Malcolm rolled to his side and pulled her with him.

Sated, they lay together for a long time. Her fingertips lightly brushed across his back and arms and her lips skimmed his chest. He nuzzled her temple, while one hand played with the mass of curls wrapped around his arm.

"I want to stay here forever," he murmured.

Bree smiled. She knew she should be ashamed, but this felt so right. "I'm afraid it might cause a bit of excitement in the morning when Hannah comes in to stoke the fire."

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"You wouldn't need a fire if I were with you."

Bree laughed softly. It was true; she basked in his warm, radiant heat.

The moon had passed behind the trees when, with a loud sigh, he raised himself from her side. "I'm going, but not for long. You and Mother better get this wedding thing settled quickly, or Hannah will have to learn to live with finding me in your bed, or you in mine." Malcolm bent down and gave her another deep kiss. As she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him down, he shook his head. "Stop that, you little wanton. I've given you a taste of what you can expect as my wife. That's going to have to be enough for now. I don't have the willpower to leave if we get started again." He slapped her lightly on the derriere and bent to gather his clothing.

Bree stretched like a cat. His scent lingered on her skin—

the mix of spice and soap and man. She rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet playfully as she watched him pull on his trousers.

"My God. You look like you're ten years old right now, but a few minutes ago you were all woman." Malcolm stared at her a moment before shaking his head.

He bent and kissed her on the forehead, then turned and hurried out the room, closing the door gently.

"Good night," she called. Once she donned a long flannel nightgown, she snuggled into the downy mattress. She hugged herself, closing