Thea Devine (19 page)

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured.

“Start now,” she whispered, licking her lips to invite his kiss again. He took the invitation and she opened her mouth to him and met his kiss ferociously.

He kissed her just the way she wanted to be kissed, with deep, wet, voluptuous kisses that incited them both.

“Maggie, this is insane.”

“Don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop. He went on kissing her, deeper and deeper, and his hands moved this time because his need to feel her body’s response was too great. He cupped her
breasts. They were so soft, so warm, so unfettered. He could feel the stiff peak of her nipples under the material, thrusting against his fingers.

He began unbuttoning her shirt and she helped him, shrugging it off her shoulders before he had pulled it from the waistband of her skirt, baring her breasts for him and arching her back to entice his caresses.

He held each luscious breast in each hand as he gazed into her sparkling gray eyes. His fingers moved then to center on each taut nipple so that she knew he was there, just there, and she drew in her breath, her heart pounding with the excitement of waiting for the feeling of him touching each rigid tip. The intensity of the waiting was sensual, arousing. Her mouth went dry, her tongue wet her lips again, and in that instant his fingers constricted, lightly squeezing against her hard nipples. The sensation shot through her like quicksilver.

He held her like that, each pebble-hard nipple compressed between his fingers, and his mouth settled on hers. All she felt in the next lush moments was the slide of his tongue seeking her and the exquisite pressure of his fingers caressing each taut nipple.

She was fragrant with wanting him, honey-warm and ready for him. As the seductive touch of his fingers played with her luscious nipples, she moved her hips enticingly up against him and begged for his love in the most primitive female way.

He could not resist her thrusting wanton movements. One of his hands reached for her skirt and ripped it away, then he lifted her up against him and carried her to the back of her wagon. Tossing the skirt down first, he lowered her naked body onto it gently and fell into another succulent kiss.

Now she was all his, naked and willing, and his hands explored her everywhere as he delved into her mouth with those slow, luscious kisses she loved so much.

She began feeling him under his clothing. His hips were just level with her as she sat, and she had perfect access to the hard throbbing length of him. She was not shy about caressing him thoroughly through the thickness of his pants. Her legs straddled his thighs so that she could get closer to him.

He helped her. He wanted her hands on him while he felt every part of her. In a moment, he pulled away the waistband of his pants and then he was in her hands, hard and hot, eager for her touch.

He returned to the lushness of her mouth as her hands teased and tormented him, and then he began his seduction.

She was so ready for him, so open, moaning with the erotic sense of his maleness hard in her hands. She tore her mouth away from his to kiss it, to feel its luscious rigidity with her lips and tongue, to suck the tip lightly, until he was almost gone.

Slowly she looked up at him. Reading the heat of his desire in his eyes, she shifted her body slightly so that she could position him exactly at the most intimate part of her, the place where, with one sultry thrust, he could enter and possess her.

She was at the perfect angle to see everything. She braced herself with one hand and with the other she moved him to the point of her desire and angled her thighs to give him perfect access. She knew she would never forget the sight and sensation of him taking her in just that way. He came into her gradually, in unhurried movements so that she could feel him, inch by hard long inch, and see him and understand the full nature of his carnal possession.

He lowered his mouth to hers for a long erotic kiss to let her feel the full thick thrusting length of him deep inside her.

He loved this positioning of her body, and he lengthened
the kiss to keep her tightly connected to him for as long as possible. Even her hands, playing with his firm buttocks, pressed him closer, as if he were not deeply enough within her.

And then he moved her downward so that she was lying on the wagon bed, and he caressed her body as he moved away from her so that he could remove her boots and position her legs on his shoulders.

From his upright position, he could see everything now, every emotion on her face, her luscious nipples taut with excitement, her churning hips seeking the sensation of his motion, the long swooping length of her legs, everything, and he moved, finally, to begin his primitive rhythm.

It was like nothing she had ever felt before. At this angle, with him standing just at the juncture of her thighs and her on her back, she was totally open to him, knowing he could watch and see everything. The thought of that was thrilling, provocative.

She felt herself going wild with fantasies about what he could see, and her body reacted intensely. Her hands thrashed around for something to hold onto. She found the edge of a rusted ring that was used as a tie-down, and she grasped it.

Her arching body and thrusting breasts excited him still more. His hands massaged the long length of her legs as he drove into her again and again. His hands slid under her to lift her upward more tightly against him, still plunging into her with a wild possession. Her hips gyrated provocatively with every thrust, her urgency growing. He loved watching her naked body writhe for him, loved the knowledge that it was his virile manhood that drove her to this ecstatic response. He heard her moaning with every hard thrust, and he loved it that his possession of her brought her to this.

She was all sensual feeling and motion motion motion.
The center of her being bore down on the thick hardness of him. Her quivering body tensed, and he took her to a shattering culmination that rocketed through her like a firecracker and exploded into a thousand sizzling fingers of light all over her.

And there he rested in union with her for one long perfect moment.

When she opened her eyes and lifted herself on her elbows so that she could savor the sight of their connected bodies, her insolent look invited his final savage surrender. With one torrid surge he drove deep into her feminine core.

Later, they lay on his bed, naked, satiated, exchanging languid kisses, not moving, barely speaking. She had the brief fleeting thought that she wasn’t even thinking. But it didn’t matter.
This
mattered, this afternoon, this man, this kiss, this touch. He hadn’t even chided her for her ridiculous notion of leaving him. He had done nothing but make love to her and tell her how wonderful she was.

It was almost possible, in the golden aftermath, to believe there could be some kind of life with Logan. It might even be possible to have this much life with him, if he were willing. But she rather thought he would not be. He was giving her her head and waiting to see how far she ran. And she had run straight back into his arms, demanding his kisses.

She wondered how he had known she would want him so intensely. It wasn’t love, it was a trust, a bond from their past, and a nature within her that knew no sensual bounds. She had tried to deny this nature, but everything else paled in comparison to this release and this freedom. Now she was willing to pay the price to have him. She wondered when, or if, he would broach the subject of a future.

She turned to look at him and was awed by her response to his face in repose. His whole body was quiescent, relaxed. She just loved looking at him. She remembered the day—was it a month ago—that she had ached for the sight of him, just to know he was there.

He was so very
there
. She hadn’t even had time to examine the brief, fleeting feeling of what would have happened if … There was no regret. She could make a case that she would not have been ready for him had she not married Frank first, but that was absurd. Frank had been what he was and his nature could not have been changed any more than hers.

Logan had brought in her clothing, and she reached for her shirt to slip it over her shoulders, unaware that he watched her through hooded eyes.

He felt a tenuous link to her now, he thought, as he admired the way the soft fabric of the shirt draped over the curve of her breasts. She had capitulated to him faster than he ever could have imagined in his dreams. It made him wonder about her relationship with Frank, but he knew it was something he could never ask her.

It didn’t matter. Frank could never have elicited that incredibly intense response from her. She was all his now, and he was never going to let her get away.

“Why are you getting dressed?” he asked lazily, as he became aware that she was buttoning the shirt.

She came and sat on the bed next to him, lifting her legs onto the mattress beside him. “I think,” she murmured provocatively as she placed her bare foot on his hip and slid it downward along the side of his naked leg, “because I want you to undress me again.”

She was gratified to see that the sensual motion of her foot and her husky words had acted on him visibly, and that he was turning toward her with that lambent light in his eyes.

“Maybe I don’t even have to undress you,” he said
impudently, sliding his hand over her hip and under the shirt to stroke her breast and the budding nipple.

She pushed him away. “No, I most definitely want you to undress me.” She shifted her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Where is my skirt?”

And then she felt him grab her around the waist and haul her back to him. She struggled against his hard grip, her naked bottom undulating wildly against his ever lengthening tumescence, until he pushed her face down onto the mattress and covered her with his erotic weight.

“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie …” he whispered in her ear, as his hands held her wriggling buttocks firmly.

“You’re not going to undress me,” she said with a pout in her voice.

“You can’t arouse a man like that and then expect him to wait while you get dressed so he can undress you,” he chided. “I can’t wait, Maggie. I’m ready for you.”

“Let me see.”

“I’ll let you touch.” He thrust himself into her hands and she felt him, sliding her hands avidly from the hard, ridged tip to the firm root of him and below, between his straddled legs, to cup the taut sacs there that loved to feel her touch.

“Let me see,” she asked again. It was like a game, a thrilling game where now she could only imagine his nakedness, his hard long length, and what he might do to her.

“Think about it,” he murmured. But she heard the note in his voice and felt the firm caress of his hands sliding all over her thighs and buttocks and the small of her back.

“I’m thinking about it,” she breathed, as she felt him slide his arm under her and lift her upward onto her knees. Now she was butted right up against his hard shaft. It nudged her, almost like a reminder, and rubbed against her suggestively. “I’m imagining it.” Her voice
grew husky. “I want it. I want
you
.”

“How convenient you’re so deliciously naked,” he murmured. “Now, Maggie—”

“I
do
.” She felt agitation now. He was on his knees behind her, and the whole hard length of him caressed her buttocks. The feel of it was pure arousal to her, heightened by the fact that she could not see him, could not touch him. She had only the sense of him behind her, hot, wanting her, and her own compelling desire to feel him within her once again.

It was exactly the opposite sensation engendered by their earlier union. She was totally in
his
hands, and they were all over her, caressing her boldly to prepare her for his intimate possession.

It came quickly, in one virile penetrating thrust, and he was deep within from this wholly new position. She felt him writhe against her to place himself in exact alignment with her, and she loved the sense of being outside of him while still totally filled with his manhood.

For him, the motion and the goal were all the same. For her, everything was different, enthralling; the feeling of him within her from behind, the sense of freedom, the provocative sensation of being connected to him in just this one way, the way her imagination ran riot, the way his hands had the freedom to explore her—all of it, different, arousing, utterly exciting….

“Oh, Maggie—” The throaty note in his voice lured her into turning her head to look at him. Again, the fire in her look incited him. The movement, which he had been withholding for the pure pleasure of feeling himself inside her in this way, the movement began almost of its own volition. With the first surging plunge, she threw her head back, and he heard her sweet satisfying moan from deep in her throat. The sound was like a seductive perfume to him.

He wanted her, and he poured his desire into each
torrid thrust, showing her, telling her with his lunging potent manhood what he had yet to say with words: she was his, in this way, in every way, she didn’t have to know it, he knew it, and as she rolled her torso with him and in opposition to his movements, he thought that she knew it too.

She reveled in the feeling of him behind her, his large hot hands guiding her, feeling her, taking every motion of her hips, adding to it, moving with her, exciting her with his touch, everywhere. She felt a glimmer of possibilities suddenly, a white-hot tendril of feeling attacking her vitals—she gasped at the sensation of it. She heard herself cry out as the tendrils unfurled, slowly at first, gossamer, until the first molten feeling slithered downward, downward. Then her hips began a wild fluid gyration as she sought the radiant center of all that feeling. It came closer, closer with each forceful thrust of his towering sex. Closer. She moaned as he felt her urgency and met it with his own.

She was utterly wanton in his hands as he drove her to the final glittering moment—the point, the center, the incandescent heat that expanded into a paroxysm of groans that kept rhythm with insensate feeling that totally possessed her.

Oh yes, oh yes
, he heard her words on and on and on,
oh yes
, and it was for him,
oh yes
, as he poured his living heat into her in a gorgeous spuming ending of utter complete perfection.