Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose - By Tessa Berkley Page 0,60
request, Trace raised his head and lovingly did the same to the other breast. Her hands moved against his shoulders, kneading the muscles, urging him on. His fingers slid down her ribcage, while he made love to her breasts, and came to rest upon her hips. The more he kissed, the tighter his trousers became. His libido demanded their bodies be skin to skin.
Mary Rose whimpered as his mouth drew away. God, but she was beautiful. The soft blush of arousal painted her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. Trace stood. His eyes roved possessively across her as his trousers slipped away. To his surprise, she didn’t flinch or turn away. A coy twist of her mouth and she gathered the hem of her chemise. Rising to her knees, Mary Rose drew it over her head and let it flutter to the floor beside them.
“Madre Dios,” he swore. “How can one woman be so perfect?”
He closed the distance between their bodies and took her breasts in his hands. He stared down, surprised to find tears choking his vision as his thumbs brushed her nipples and caused them to bead.
“Kiss me.”
Her wish was his command. He leaned into her embrace and lowered his lips to hers. His hands drifted over her back, then further down to cup her sweet bottom, bringing them together. Trace’s erection pushed against his innerwear, straining to be set free. His belly jerked as her fingers brushed across his navel and moved lower. With one easy tug, his innerwear fell to his knees, and he pulled his body free.
She sighed against his lips and he gave in to the wonder of her touch. As they kissed, she stroked and explored his anatomy until his reserve nearly broke. Capturing her hands, he pulled back.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. But if you continue, your pleasure will be lost before it even begins.”
In her eyes he could see wonder. Their gazes locked, and her sapphire-blue eyes deepened to midnight blue. His hand found the string of her silk bloomers, and within seconds they were gone. Now nothing stood between them and desire’s end.
Lying back, she raised one hand to him. He took her lifeline. His hand brushed the rise of her hip. “You are beautiful, my Querida.”
“Tell me,” she sighed as his lips licked across her collarbone. “Tell me what that word, querida, means.”
“Querida?” he asked, kissing the hollow of her chest.
She moaned and nodded as his tongue flicked against the swell of her breasts.
“Dear one. You are my dear one.” His breath came in husky gasps with each word.
“Querida,” she repeated and smiled as his mouth moved lower. Mary Rose closed her eyes and gave over to the moment. His hands moved in an intoxicating rhythm, sliding over her hips and across her thighs. She felt powerless to resist anything he should ask.
The more he touched, the greater the tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Lifting her heavy lashes from her cheek, she caught sight of the bronze skin of his shoulders. A scar near his left shoulder blade marred its perfection. Reaching out, she brushed her index finger over it.
His head rose. He looked back at her, his gaze like a soft caress, and her heart rocked against her chest. Mary Rose knew she was in love. Her breath caught. His gaze sharpened. Something cherished passed between them. Something only lovers knew. He moved toward her face and she dampened her lips for the kiss she knew would come.
His mouth covered hers, no longer soft but crushing with want, the same want she could feel rising in the hollow of her hips. As their tongues labored in a seductive duel, he nudged her thighs apart. She gasped as he covered her mound with his hand and, using his fingers, stroked the silken curls between her legs. A wave of heat washed over her. She couldn’t get enough air. Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she clung there for life.
The more he stroked, the more he brought her untried senses to life. She moaned. Her hips began to mimic his fingers’ movements. A dull ache began to grow below her belly. She needed something to fill her. Something only he possessed.
Lost in the sensations that rolled over her, she concentrated on filling that void. Her hands fell away from his body, too heavy to lift. Mary Rose found it difficult to catch her breath. She could feel the damp strands of hair clinging