Warrior Rising - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,54

sight of his broad shoulders and muscular chest and arms, his narrow waist and his full, thick erection. "You're the finest-looking male I've ever seen, Harrison." She slid her hand over his rock-hard thigh. "Come to me."

An intriguing playfulness lit his eyes. "Oh, I intend to, angel. I intend to."

Ilaria smiled, delighted with the man hovering over her. But instead of covering her with his body, as she wished, he moved to kneel on the floor beside her, then dipped his head to take her breast deeply into his mouth. She cried out at the exquisite feel of his tongue on her sensitive flesh, moaning as his hand slid up her thigh, parting her, then playing in the damp folds of her need.

As her hips rocked, she gripped his head, holding him close and reveling in the sweet assault of his lips and mouth, and those clever, clever fingers.

With her own hand, she reached for him, her fingers trailing across his thigh before finding the part of him she sought. As her hand closed around the thick length of his erection, he groaned, his mouth growing rougher, hotter. In her hand, he was the softest down and the hardest granite. And her body wept to feel the full length of him inside her.

Never could she remember being so desperate for a joining. Over the long years of her life, she'd known many, many men. Yet never had she felt anything like this excitement, like this man.

She watched as he showered one of her breasts with attention, then moved to give its twin equal time, equal pleasure. Lifting her hand to his hair, she delighted in the feel of the short, soft strands, tracing her fingers across the curve of his solid head to the strong, corded muscles of his neck. He lifted his head to peer at her with a smoldering gaze before pressing a kiss to the valley between her breasts before his lips began a slow, downward descent, grazing her belly button before traveling lower.

Heat built inside her as she understood where he was going, what he had in mind. She lost her grip on him as he moved down her body, then caught her breath in anticipation as he slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted her, draping her legs over his shoulders as he raised her hot core to his mouth.

His tongue brushed against that tight knot of sensation and she cried out with pure pleasure. Over and over he licked her, sipped at her, teased her with his lips and tongue until the pressure built, twisting tighter and tighter and finally snapping in a shower of brilliant, pulsing stars. Her breaths became gasps, turning to tiny moans as the pleasure became so intense it straddled the line of pain.

At the very moment the words too much formed in her head, he pulled back, as if he knew. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared down at her, his eyes gleaming with hot satisfaction.

From somewhere she found the strength to lift her arms to him. "Come to me."

And, finally, he did. He covered her, settling himself within the cradle of her thighs. Capturing her gaze with his, he slid inside her with a single perfect thrust, filling her more fully than she'd ever been filled, taking her body and soul.

Sweet Esria, she was falling in love with him. She'd known this would happen. She'd feared...

Their gazes clung as he moved inside her, their bodies joined in the most fundamental of ways. Her heart pounded with the perfection of their joining, and with the ripping knowledge that they might never be together like this again. Tears blurred her vision and she reached for him, pulling him down to kiss her so he wouldn't see. And he did kiss her, tenderly. Thoroughly. Passionately.

She met him, thrust for thrust, as they drove together toward that last, final, brilliant release. It crashed over her in a beautiful violence. Deep inside her, the walls crumbled, her heart opened, overflowing with love and tenderness for this intense, wonderful man.

And her tears ran freely.

Harrison collapsed on top of her, sparing her the bulk of his weight with his forearms, but his head dropped, his cheek pressing against hers.

"You're crying," he said, the soft dismay in his voice a tender caress.

"I'm a woman," she said simply. She couldn't explain. Indeed, she didn't want him to look into her eyes, afraid he'd see the truth - that she loved