Cursed (Decorah Security #21) - Rebecca York Page 0,55

shrugged out of it, tossing it to the end of the bed.

They were both naked when he came down beside her, and her breath caught as she absorbed the wonderful sensation of his skin touching her and the feel of his penis pressing against her leg.

He gathered her to him, rocking with her, his hand stroking over her back and lower to caress the curve of her bottom.

“Your skin is like silk,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up again, then stroking the underside of her breasts.

“I need . . . that. More of that,” she gasped out, taking his hands and pressing them against her nipples.

His eyes riveted to his hands cupping over her breasts.

“I need it too,” he answered, taking the engorged tips between her fingertips and squeezing them gently. “Does that feel good?”

“God, yes. I want everything you’re willing to give me.”

She had denied herself this pleasure for so long. No man had touched her body with sexual intent in years. Now all the needs she had told herself were dead forever surged up to overwhelm her.

When he tugged at her nipples and rolled them between his fingers, she sobbed out her pleasure. And when his mouth replaced one of his hands, sucking one hardened bud into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue and teeth, she went frantic, cupping the back of his head in her hands as she pressed her lower body against his. The sudden burst of feelings was too much for her to contain. Need spiraled out of control. She should have been prepared. But orgasm took her by surprise, rocketing through her like a shooting star flashing to earth, and she cried out with the strength of her release.

For long moments she could do nothing more than allow the storm to rage through her body.

When she could speak again, she whispered, “I’m . . . sorry,” as she pressed her face against his shoulder.

He stroked her shoulder, kissed her hair, then tipped her face up so that she had to meet his questioning gaze.

“For what?”

“For . . . jumping the gun,” she managed.

He laughed. “I think there’s more where that came from.”

She started to say that there probably wasn’t more. But when his finger stroked lightly over her still sensitive breast, she gasped.

“Oh!”

“Yes. Much more, I think.”

He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her as though they were just getting started. And as his mouth moved over hers and his hands teased and tantalized, she felt him building her arousal all over again.

This time, she wasn’t so frantic. And the sensation of heat coursing through her was delicious.

His hand slid downward again, giving her most intimate flesh a quick, tantalizing brush. She arched against him, and he dipped into her sex for long, lingering strokes that pushed her toward another orgasm.

“I want you in me this time,” she whispered, her fingers closing around his wonderfully hard erection.

“Oh, yes.”

She lay back, guiding him into her, and they both sighed out in relief as he slipped inside her.

He looked down at her, his eyes dark with passion and so many other emotions that she could barely breathe.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he said.

“You just met me a few days ago.”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “It doesn’t feel like it—does it?”

“No,” she admitted in a low voice. In truth, she felt as if she had known him forever. That she had been waiting for this forever. And when he began to move, she moved with him.

Her ecstasy spiraled quickly. Out of control. Over the moon. And this time when she came, he was with her, calling out her name as his body went rigid above hers.

She floated back to earth slowly, making a small sound of protest as he moved off of her. But he only came down beside her on the bed, gathering her close, kissing the side of her face while she stroked her fingers through his hair. She was limp with pleasure, more relaxed than she had been in years, she thought.

###

Andre held Morgan in his arms, watching her eyes drift closed. She fit so well against him. It was heaven just to hold her. Making love with her had felt like magic. And he needed magic. So much.

Before she’d come here, he’d felt free to joke with her. Tease her. He’d loved every scrap of herself that she’d shared.

She’d traveled all over the world. He’d never traveled far from this patch of southern Louisiana. Yet it