Линда Ховард – Sarah's Child (страница 10)

She was so pale and composed and sure of herself, like an ice-queen. Would she be that cool and controlled in bed, or would those shadowy green eyes blaze with animal need? He imagined her beneath him, writhing in the throes of desire he’d awakened in her, with wild cries tearing up from the depths of her slender body as he drove into her again and again and again…

He stopped his fantasy, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he watched the graceful swaying of her body as she walked away from him. He went to his own car and waited until her little red car passed him; then he pulled out behind her and followed closely on the drive to her apartment.

Sarah already had the door unlocked when he arrived, and she glanced at him warily as he entered behind her. His dark eyes still held that dangerous look, with a hunger in them that she understood but couldn’t measure. She wanted him—she’d always wanted him—but at the same time she didn’t want to be a one-night stand for him, a fast coupling for the purpose of easing him, forgotten as soon as it was finished. Spontaneously she tried to slow him down.

“Would you like coffee?” she invited, dropping her small purse on the sofa and moving away from him to the kitchen.

“No.” His refusal was flat.

“I think I’ll have something to eat, just to be on the safe side,” she called over her shoulder. “How about one of those chicken sandwi—”

Without warning, he seized her from behind, his hard hands locking on her waist and pulling her back against him. His head bent, and his hot breath blew over the curve of her neck, lightly touching her sensitive skin and awakening all her nerve endings. She shivered a little, but didn’t try to pull away; instead she pressed back against the virile contours of his body.

“I don’t want a sandwich,” he muttered, nipping at her neck with his teeth, then soothing the slight sting with butterfly strokes from the tip of his tongue. Sarah’s eyes closed in ecstasy, and she let her head fall back against his shoulder, baring the vulnerable curve of her throat to him.

His breathing was becoming hard and fast, rasping in her ear, and the way he moved against her buttocks vividly demonstrated his arousal. His right hand shifted from her waist, sliding boldly upward to rub and cup her breasts, his touch burning her through her dress.

“I want to break Max’s jaw when he looks at you as if he wants to do this.” There was a roughness to his voice that she hadn’t heard before, the guttural tone of fierce desire. His hands were all over her, stroking her as if to stake his claim as he’d told her he would do, and she leaned against him, her eyes closed, shaking a little as waves of pleasure assaulted her, each one stronger than the one before. With a harsh, impatient sound, he quickly tugged down the zipper of her dress and dropped the garment to her hips, then dispersed with her bra, freeing her breasts to his hands and gaze.

Sarah moaned softly as he cupped both of her breasts in his palms, kneading her soft flesh and gently pinching at her pink nipples. “You’re so beautiful,” he groaned and the rough desire in his voice made her feel beautiful. She loved the way the mounds of her breasts filled his palms, hardening and thrusting out to seek his touch.

Abruptly he turned her in his arms, holding her so tightly against him that her ribs ached, while he kissed her with blatant hunger. With his tongue, he told her what he wanted to do, and the symbolism was unmistakable. Sarah gasped under his mouth, seeking air to feed her starving lungs. “Rome…please!” But she didn’t know if she begged for mercy, or for more of the primal pleasure he was giving her. Her body was growing heavy and liquid, and a deep inner throbbing made her move restlessly against him.

“Yes,” he said against her throat, interpreting her plea as he chose. He bent her over his arm to give himself access to her tempting breasts, and she gave a thin cry when his hot mouth closed over her nipple, sucking it strongly into his mouth. Blackness swirled over her, a warm, velvet blackness that blocked out any reservations she might have had about belonging to him. She dissolved into a purely physical animal, instinctively seeking more of the pleasure he offered her. Her hands roamed his body as his had roamed hers, impatiently brushing away the layers of cloth that separated her from his hard muscled flesh. He trembled wildly at her intimate touch and pleaded with her for more.

At some point, they dropped to the floor, the plush carpet soft under her back. Too impatient to undress her completely, he lifted her skirt out of the way and stripped her panty hose down her legs. Sarah reached for him, her expression rapt, lost in the passion he’d aroused in her, and he caught his breath sharply. “Easy, easy,” he said hoarsely, not wanting it to end too quickly, and knowing he was perilously close to satisfaction. He wanted to make certain she was satisfied too; he wanted to see her face at the peak of her pleasure. He held back, twisting his body away from her inciting hands, while he stroked and petted her, bestowing fleeting, intimate caresses on her that had her arching for more.

Sarah cried out at the tension that was building in her, the sensation that was as frightening as it was pleasurable, as if she might explode into a thousand little pieces. His warm hand, his devilishly dancing fingers, were doing things to her that were destroying her control, her sense of self. “Let go, let go,” he cajoled in a rough whisper against her ear, and she did, crying out unintelligible sounds of passion fulfilled, her hands clutching at him as her body writhed in the glory that consumed her.

Just as she began the downward slide into peace and relaxation, he pinned her to the floor with his weight, adjusted himself between her thighs, and thrust into her with one powerful deliberate movement. Sarah was unable to hold back the sharp single cry that tore from her throat, and her body jolted in shock. But she reached up to wind her arms around his neck, clinging to him, as she offered him the comfort of her loving body. He groaned thickly against her throat and lost all control, taking her swiftly, a little roughly, and somehow, despite her discomfort, lighting again that small spark of desire in her. It was over before that spark could grow into the inferno that would consume her; with a cry from between his clenched teeth, he reached his own pleasure.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.