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"You don't understand," he murmured, reading it in her face. "A man has to control his desire long
enough to arouse the woman he's with, Maggie," he said gently. "It takes longer for a woman to feel the
things a man does, especially when it's her first time."
She flushed a little, but she didn't look away.
"Your body didn't reject me, but you were tense and embarrassed and I went too fast," he said with
96 Diana Palmer
a frown. "I remember thinking how odd it was that your body didn't feel virginal even if your reactions
were those of an innocent."
She closed her eyes and hated her past. She hadn't known that a man could tell that.
He stared at her with growing suspicion. A woman who had been abused as a child...
She tugged at his arms, breaking his train of thought.
"No," he said softly, pulling her back. He tilted her face up to his. His eyes were smoldering, intent on
her mouth. "I should have done this years ago," he murmured as he bent. "I kissed you when we were
younger, but I barely brushed your mouth with mine. This time," he whispered huskily, "I'm going to do a
hell of a lot more...!"
She waited, breathless, for him to suddenly change his mind, for car doors to slam, for something to
interrupt the sensual haze he'd caressed her into.
Nothing did. His fingers cupped her chin and his hard mouth settled slowly, gently, firmly, on her parted
lips.
It was like no time before. She felt the very texture of his lips as they moved softly over her mouth,
teasing, tasting, lifting. It was as if he were sketching her mouth with a fine sable brush. She went very still
as he seduced her mouth with slow, skillful caresses.
Desperado 97
She felt his thumb working at the corner of her mouth, testing its softness as he kissed it, enjoying its
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texture, its slow response.
He nibbled her lower lip with his teeth, smiling when she lifted toward him for the first time.
"That's it," he whispered. His lips worked their way between hers and he hesitated, his breath coming
quickly at her moist lips. "Open it, little one," he whispered. "Open it. Let me inside..."
The words, unfamiliar, deep and sensual, did something unexpected to her body. She felt heat shoot
through her. She felt all her defenses fall. She arched up toward him, opening her lips.
She felt his arms slowly lift, riveting her to his hips. She felt his excitement, but she didn't protest the
intimacy. It was drugging, to feel him wanting her, to taste the heat and power of his hard mouth as it
explored hers deeply.
Even that terrible night, at first, there hadn't been this slow, drugging intimacy that made her want to feel
his mouth on her body, his hands on her bare skin. The depth of her hunger shocked her. She'd never
known desire, except for brief, infrequent tastes when she was with Cord. This was an adventure in the
world of the senses, a slow banquet of tasting and touching.
She wasn't even aware that her fingers were on the hem of his knit shirt, or that he was lifting away
98 Diana Palmer
to coax them under it. She moved her hands quickly up to the thick pelt of hair that covered his warm
muscular chest. She felt him gasp against her mouth when she buried her fingers in it.
She drew back, uncertain.
His face was hard, his cheekbones flushed, his mouth swollen from the long, intimate contact with hers.
"I like it," he said in a husky tone. "Wait." He dragged the shirt over his head and threw it aside. He didn't
even look to see where it landed before he pulled her hands back to his body and guided them against it.
His whole body throbbed, vibrated, from this almost innocent love play.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered, as he bent back to her mouth. "I'd cut off my arm before I'd hurt you
again!"
She felt that, in the tenderness of his touch, in the exquisite caress of his mouth on her lips.
She gave in to the moment, refusing to think of the past or the future. Even if it was all she could ever
have, she could have this. She reached up to him and lifted her body against his until they were riveted
together at the hips. He groaned harshly and bent quickly to lift her.
She felt him moving, felt the shock of his steps against her body as he carried her to the chaise lounge
and draped her over it. He slid alongside her, his mouth under her shirt as his fingers worked at
Desperado 99
buttons and catches. She felt him shiver faintly as his lips moved onto the soft skin of her breast.
But just as he pushed the bra out of his way, she felt a skirl of fear, and she caught it to her breast,
refusing to let go.
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He wasn't angry. He only smiled. He bent again and his lips opened, smoothing over the soft skin above
the bra's edge. She caught her breath when she felt his tongue there, too.
There was something she was supposed to do. She couldn't remember what it was. His lips trespassed
further and further and she arched up, pulling the fabric out of the way of his mouth. It felt, oh, so good!
She wanted it lower. She wanted his mouth to cover that tiny hardness that ached, that throbbed, that
hurt, for his touch. She wanted him to kiss it...
She felt his laughter ripple against her breast. She didn't realize that she was speaking aloud, or that her
sudden weakness increased his strength, his virility.
"You make me feel ten feet tall," he whispered against her skin. His hand slid along her rib cage, feeling
the undulating motion of her body that was trying so hard to coax his mouth lower.
She moaned with pure frustration, out of her senses with the single-minded pursuit of pleasure. She
couldn't believe what she was feeling with him. It was unimaginable, with her past.
He lifted his head and looked right down into her
100 Diana Palmer
wide, frustrated eyes. "Do you want me to suckle you?" he whispered sensuously.
"Yes!" she moaned, beyond pride, beyond embarrassment. Her body twisted up toward him. "Oh,
Cord, please, please...!"
He touched her mouth gently, his heart bursting with her headlong response, with her hunger for him,
despite the past, when he'd hurt her.
"I would do," he whispered huskily, "anything for you. Anything!"
He bent to her body, tugging the bra out of her nerveless hands to dash it and the shirt and vest onto the
floor beside them. His face was intent with pleasure, with need. He touched her firm, pretty breast with
its rosy little crown as if it fascinated him. Then he bent with a faint groan, and covered it tenderly with his
lips.
He heard her helpless cry of pleasure as he began to suckle her, his tongue working hard against the
nipple, the rough pressure dragging a shocked little sound from her throat.
She lifted to his mouth, arched her body to hold him, tempt him there.
"Is it good?" he whispered huskily.
"Yes...!" Her voice broke on the words. "Yes...!" She pressed her mouth deeply into his throat, opening
it, tasting his skin in a throbbing hot silence. "Please ... don't... stop!"
Desperado 101
He laughed hoarsely. "I don't know if I could," he whispered roughly as he bent to her body again.
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When his mouth finally lifted and moved to cover hers, she met it hungrily, her arms dragging him down
to her.
He was lost. He pressed roughly between her long legs in the jeans, his body throbbing, aching, as he
moved against her in a helpless parody of intimacy. She shivered and sobbed and clung as he kissed her.
Just a little longer, just a little longer, just a little...!
He felt her body thrusting up at his and he realized almost too late what was happening. He groaned out
loud and suddenly dragged his body away from hers. He flung his legs off the divan and bent forward, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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