Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,103

Her body responded easily to Colton’s kiss; her skin tingled when he splayed his hands against her bare back, shifting slowly, sensually, fanning the forbidden flames of desire that heretofore she’d only dreamed of.

“Stop me,” he whispered hoarsely.

But she couldn’t. She felt one of his hands slide around to caress the burgeoning fabric of her halter. She gasped when his palm covered her breast, and the wet gingham slid erotically against her nipple. “Don’t stop,” she breathed. “Colton, please, don’t stop.”

He groaned a deep primal moan of surrender that turned her blood to fire. Heat swirled deep inside her as he untied the thin straps and bared one soft breast to the night. He gulped as he gazed at her. “You’re too young to look this way,” he protested, but let one thumb graze her nipple, watching in fascination as the stiff peak responded.

“Just love me,” she murmured.

“I can’t—”

“Please. Colton, oh, please—”

Groaning, he lowered his head. His lips moved gently along the column of her throat, and one hand became tangled in her hair as he dragged them both to their knees. “This is dangerous,” he rasped.

“No—”

“And so are you.”

Instinctively she let her head loll back and arched her neck as he kissed her slowly, sliding downward until his mouth was poised over her breast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning her nipple before he took all of that rosy button into his mouth and suckled hungrily.

She wound her fingers in the thick strands of his hair, and the warm ache within her, a new and frightening passion, stretched and yawned deep·within. She didn’t protest when his weight forced her back against the sand, where her halter fell completely away.

She kissed his head and smooth shoulders as he laved her breast, teasing and tormenting with each supple stroke of his tongue. Cassie shuddered, unable to think beyond the delight of his body molding to hers.

His muscles were rigid and hard. Sweat beaded his brow. He lowered the waistband of her shorts. Her abdomen flattened expectantly.

“This is a mistake,” he whispered.

“No, Colton, it’s right. So right. I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes tight for a minute, as if he was trying to get a grip on himself. For a heart-stopping second, Cassie thought he would tear himself away. But he didn’t. And when his lips found hers again, they were hot and hard and hungry. All his self-control fled. His fingers worked feverishly on the snap and zipper of her shorts.

He stripped them from her so quickly she gasped. His hands ran anxiously along her thighs, smoothing her skin, parting her legs easily, stroking her panties until she began to writhe anxiously, her blood thundering wantonly, throbbing with desire.

“I want you, Cassie,” he murmured against her hair. “Damn me to hell, but I want you.”

Somewhere in her passion-drugged mind she knew she should stop him, that lust didn’t mean love. But she didn’t care. In time he’d learn to love her just as she loved him.

“Touch me,” he breathed, guiding her hand.

Hesitantly she reached for the top button of his cutoffs. Her fingers flitted against his abdomen, and he drew in a swift breath, his own fingers delving, searching.

He groaned when she touched him, his muscles flexing. “Oh, Cassie.” Lips, full and hungry, captured hers, and he kicked off his clothes, his body in all its young, virile glory straining over hers. “I—I don’t have anything for protection—”

“I don’t need anything but you,” she whispered, watching him through glazed eyes.

Shuddering, he parted her legs with his own. He moved quickly then, thrusting into her, past the thin barrier of her virginity.

She gasped with the searing pain, a white-hot burst that he assuaged with his gentle, rhythmic movements. Cassie closed her eyes, and the sounds of the night faded. She could no longer hear the gentle drone of crickets, the quiet lapping of the lake, the wind soughing through the pines. She heard only the beating of her heart and the thundering cadence of Colton’s, felt only the liquid heat within her building with each joyful, binding thrust.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders as his tempo increased. Moving with him, she arched upward, her spine curving, her breasts full against him.

“I can’t hold back,” he cried, just as the first spasm sent her rocketing into a new, wondrous world. Light splintered before her eyes, and she heard him cry out lustily, the sound echoing through the trees.

“Cassie, Cassie,” he whispered, hoarse and clinging, his body fused to hers. He