A Love Like This - Diana Palmer Page 0,108

her name over and over again, his voice awed. He’d never experienced anything like this in his life. With Elissa, he’d attained heights he hadn’t touched before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t simply sex.

His body still trembling, he kissed her closed eyes warmly and then her face again, in soft, searching caresses. She felt loved, cherished, and she smiled against his damp throat.

He nipped her ear. “I felt it happen to you,” he murmured. “It almost never does the first time.”

“My body didn’t know. I’ll make sure I tell it.”

“Imp,” he drawled. He looked into her eyes and shifted his hips, his eyes hot and wicked when she gasped. “Shocking, isn’t it?” he whispered. And then his gaze softened, and his smile faded. “I hope you aren’t having second thoughts,” he said quietly.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t protected, but his opened against it, and his hips rose and fell, and the pleasure came stabbing back in a rhythm that was already familiar.

“Angel face,” he whispered softly. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, about how it would be with you. It was beyond my wildest dreams. It was perfection,” he breathed, touching her face reverently. “My God, it’s never been like that for me. Never.”

She stared at his hair-roughened chest and touched it tentatively, liking the feel under her fingers. He stiffened a little, and she smiled at him. “You’re very good at this,” she said shyly, wondering how many women there had been before her. The thought disturbed her a little, and her conscience was twinging. He didn’t love her, she knew, but she loved him. Was that reason enough to covet this oneness with him? This one night out of a lifetime, when she could lie in his arms and pretend that he loved her? She refused to think. She leaned forward and kissed his chest softly. “You’ll have to show me what to do to make it good for you,” she whispered.

“The mind boggles,” he whispered back, sliding his mouth softly over hers. “Come on. We’ll have a shower, and then we’ll go to bed.” He lifted his head, searching her eyes. “If you still want to.”

She returned that intent look. “I want to,” she assured him.

He carried their things upstairs to his bedroom and led her into the shower. For the next few minutes, they soaped and explored each other and kissed until her mouth was swollen and his body was making new and urgent demands.

“I’m not protected,” she whispered as he laid her down on the bed. “I should have told you before.”

“I don’t give a damn,” he breathed. He was on fire for her, burning. Consequences didn’t seem to matter anymore, and they were engaged, so what the hell. “A baby wouldn’t be the end of my world or yours.”

“How would you make love to me if you wanted a baby?” she whispered, her eyes soft with love.

He smiled as he brushed her mouth with his. “Very much as I did downstairs,” he murmured against her lips. “As if you were innocent all over again. We’d be exquisitely tender with each other, like two people desperately in love. Like...this.”

It was tender. And profound. He drew it out, exploring her body like some delicate treasure that might break with a harsh breath. Even when he began to take her, it was still gentle, their eyes openly cherishing each other, their voices hushed. When the tide came and washed them into the blinding heat of fulfillment, they were still looking into each other’s eyes, and it was a gentle violence, rocking them with exquisitely tender shudders and warm convulsions that were even more beautiful than those of wild passion.

When it was over, she cried helplessly, and he held her, kissing away the tears, cradling her against his damp body.

“You make it so profound,” he whispered shakily. “It isn’t even physical with you. It’s a thing so much of the spirit that it makes me tremble. I never dreamed of such fulfillment.”

“You make love beautifully,” she breathed.

“So do you, baby.” He curled her into his body with a weary sigh. “I want to sleep with you, Elissa. I never want to let go of you.”

She cuddled close to him, savoring his strength, feeling secure and adored and totally fulfilled. At the back of her mind, a tiny voice nagged that it wasn’t right or proper, but she was too tired to listen.

“Don’t hate me,” he breathed.

“How could I?”

“I took you out of

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