Think About Love (20 page)

He pulled her hand up, between them, placed it on his chest.

"Feel me," he said, his voice harsh. "Feel what you do to me."

His heart hammered against her palm.

"Kiss me," he growled. "You wanted it."

Her hand fisted in his shirt and she pulled his mouth closer. Her lips parted, her own heart shuddering in the beat of his. He took her then, his mouth and hers, the world dizzy and spinning out of control.

When he lifted his head and stared down at her, the moon bright behind his head, she had forgotten how to breathe.

"I don't want to lose control," she whispered.

He lifted her in his arms.

"You can't carry me...."

Her body crushed against his, her arms clinging now around his shoulders, his head, his mouth.... He pressed a hard kiss on her mouth, his tongue sliding inside, taking hers. She held on tighter, fought the dizziness.

Then his mouth tore from hers and he said in a low voice, "I am carrying you."

She turned her face into his shoulder, felt the hard play of his muscles as he walked up the gravel path. "Your jacket. Your jacket's on the beach."

"I don't give a damn about my jacket."

He reached the cabin. He wasn't breathing hard, but she could feel his heart as if it were her own, shaking her with each hard beat. His arms holding her. Lying in his arms, she felt vulnerable, unable to speak, to free herself.

He set her down but kept one arm around her while he unlocked the door. Then he pulled her inside and the door slammed, and she heard the lock snap home.

"Are you sure?" he asked. His voice sounded rough, uneven, and harsh. He wasn't touching her now, had stepped back, a threatening shape against the moonlight streaming through the patio doors on the other side of the room.

"What if I'm not sure?"

She'd have to be crazy. This wasn't Cal, the man in a suit, civilized, controlled with the fascination of fire burning inside. This man's fire was dangerously close to the outside, raw, and uncontrollable.

"If you're not sure," he growled, "then I'll go for a walk, see about getting another room."

If they stayed in the same room now, after that kiss, after he'd carried her with his heart hammering and her body trembling....

"What if I am sure?"

"Prove it."

She wished she could see his eyes, wished she could stop her pulse from hammering. She knew there were reasons why this was a bad idea. Earlier, she'd decided it was best to... for them to do this now, tonight. That waiting would....

There'd been reasons why, but she knew there were a thousand reasons why not. Because he was dangerous, a thousand times dangerous to her.

She lifted one hand and fumbled with the top button of her blouse.

"Samantha...."

The button finally sprung free. Her fingers were steadier on the next one.

Cal stared at Samantha as she slowly unfastened the buttons of her blouse. She was standing there, staring at him with vulnerable moonlit eyes. He wanted to tell her not to be afraid, that he would protect her, forever.

He couldn't speak, couldn't get a sound past the swelling in his throat.

I don't want to lose control.

But she would. He promised himself she would, that he would show her the joys beyond control, that he would show her everything, here, tonight. Joy... fulfillment... love.

When her hand dropped away from the buttons, he could see the creamy silk of her flesh between the panels of the open blouse. He wanted to reassure her, to soothe her, but he knew she wouldn't admit her fear, knew he didn't fully understand her unease, could only soothe it with loving.

He stepped closer, cradled her cheek with his hand. Then he bent and slowly, very slowly, his own heart thundering in his veins, he took her lips with his.

She opened for him and he slid inside, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers and feeling her sigh. He moved his hand to her throat, felt her heart beat against his palm.

When he drew back from the kiss, her lips remained parted. He felt his erection throbbing and prayed for time, for control. She'd said she didn't want to be teased, seduced, and he knew that if he took her hard and fast, she would accept his invasion of her body.

Only sex, and it would be over quickly, leaving her in control. He wanted more.

He slipped her blouse over her shoulders, watched as silk slid away from her, dropping to the floor.

"I couldn't sleep last night," he told her in a low voice. "I couldn't get the feel of you out of my mind. Your mouth hungry under mine, the way your breast felt under my hand. I could feel your nipple through your clothes, erect, hard against my palm."

He saw her tremble, couldn't read her eyes with only moonlight to guide him.

"Are you cold?"

She didn't answer, or couldn't. He touched her face, her throat, and the curve of her breast above her lacy bra. She trembled when he touched but stood passive.
Yes,
she'd said, but this wasn't what he wanted, her body passive, as if submitting.

He took her hand and replaced it on his chest. "I'm not doing this alone. I'm not
taking
you. We do this together, or not at all."

He felt her hand jerk on his chest. "Damn you," she hissed.

"If you think we can do this without you losing control, I won't let it happen. I promise you, Samantha Moonbeam, we're both going to lose control."

"No!"

He feathered his fingers lightly over the curve of her breast, brushed his thumb over the peak, and felt her nipple harden, pressing against his thumb. "I've imagined suckling you so often, your nipple hard in my mouth, drawing you inside...."

Her nipple was rock hard and he felt the shudder tear through her.

"Kiss me, Samantha. Now, with nothing held back."

She shuddered and he drew her closer. Her hands pressed into his chest—to hold him or to push him away? Her mouth parted under his and he felt her fists clench into the fabric of his shirt, but didn't let himself dive into her mouth.

Slowly, he traced her mouth with his tongue. Then he dipped deeper, learning the shape of her lips where they covered her teeth, the dark sweetness of her tongue as it finally tangled with his. But her body was still passive against his and he drew back, pulling his mouth from hers.

She made a sound, half whimper and half protest. Then he felt her arms tangle around his neck. Then she was pressing into him, her curves softly firm, hot under the hungry touch of his hands. He tasted her hot mouth as he swept his hands over her back, her hips, the firm curve of her buttocks. He gathered her in, held her against his throbbing erection, and heard her moan against the aching pleasure of her body against his.

Then she was restless, twisting, her breasts thrusting into his chest and he swept her up and carried her to the bed. He heard her whimper and covered her breast with his hand.

"Like this?" he asked, drawing his thumb over her nipple, his need tightening as she arched in response to his touch. His woman. Now, tonight, she would understand completely that this was meant to be... that they were forever.

She was burning, couldn't get her breath. He had to stop touching her like that, had to.... Her breasts throbbed and he wouldn't... she couldn't... his thumbs brushed over her nipples again, too lightly, and she bit back a whimper.

Then he drew away, his hands so light over her flesh, her midriff, and the underside of her breasts. She reached for him, grabbed iron-hard shoulders and pulled him down, down.

"No," he said, his voice low against her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth and... oh, God, he was sucking on her earlobe and she... how could it feel so....

She heard herself moan and she turned her head, needing his kiss, his mouth. She caught his mouth with hers, her hands tight against the back of his neck.

"Cal, now...just...just do it."

His laughter was low, soft as he escaped her mouth and pressed lips to her throat. Then he reached up and took her hands from behind his neck and said gently, "I told you, darling. We're going to lose control, both of us."

He stretched her hands back over her head and held them trapped, his fingers pinning her wrists. She twisted and felt her body arch with the movement, her breasts under the covering of her lacy skin-colored bra thrusting upwards.

"If you want to be free," he said softly, "all you need to do is ask."

Then he bent and placed his mouth on her breast, his breath hot through the fabric of her bra. Sensation ripped through her and she closed her eyes.

Through the bra, he drew her nipple into his mouth, then took it between his teeth. She moaned, a long shudder of sensation. She felt his hands pinning her arms, his fingers around her wrists, felt herself twist and throb under his mouth.

"Cal... Cal, please...." She couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the aching, needed....

He took his mouth away from her breast and she moaned.

"Shall I free you?" he asked softly. He took her mouth then, pulling on her lower lip, sliding his tongue along the sensitive nerves inside. She twisted, needing the hard press of his body against hers, needing... moaning as another wave of tension throbbed between her legs.

His fingers loosened on her wrists. "Do you want me to let your hands free?"

Before she could answer, he bent and took her in his mouth again, and she needed... needed his mouth on her skin. His hand on her wrists felt... she fought against his grip and felt her whole body twist against him, felt... now, finally, his hard pressure against her thigh, her belly.

"Cal, please...."

He caught her nipple gently between his teeth again and she groaned.

"Tell me," he said against her. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"More... please... I need more."

He released the fastener of her bra with one swift motion. She felt air play over her sensitive nipples, wet from his kisses through the fabric of her bra. She shuddered once before his mouth drew her nipple deep inside and she convulsed.

Then he must have released her hands because her arms were tangled around him and he was driving her beyond madness with his fingers on her throbbing nipples, his mouth plundering hers.

She had to touch him, needed to taste his flesh, his heat, and she fought with the fabric of his shirt until she felt the hot smoothness of his chest and heard the groan ripped from his throat when she grasped his tiny nipple between her fingers and tugged.

She rolled, or they did, and she was sprawled over him, his erection throbbing against the fork of her body, and she bent her mouth to his nipple and suckled, felt a tight band of need pulse harder as she pulled a moan from him.

"God, woman... stop or this will be over before it starts." He moved and she was flat on her back on the bed, his thigh pressed against the pulse that beat at the core of her sex.

"Now," she said, her voice husky with need. "I need you inside me now." She could feel it, the pulse tightening her whole body, consuming it with each beat.

He covered her mound with his hand, and even through her jeans the sensation was overwhelming. She heard the zipper, felt him strip her jeans away. Then she was naked, with only trembling flesh and the scrap of lace that was her panties.

She reached for his belt, but her fingers fumbled and he brushed them away.

"If you touch me, this is going to be over too damned soon." He traced her shape through the silky fabric of her panties and sent her head thrashing on the pillow. Then he slid his fingers under the elastic and into her creamy folds and she convulsed around him with a low, keening moan.

He stilled, holding her center with his hand still buried in her as her sex gripped him with spasm after spasm.

His mouth found hers and she felt herself open, felt as if her body lay wide open, his fingers in her, his tongue tangled with hers... as if he possessed her completely and she were only shudders of sensation.

"Do you have any idea what this feels like," he whispered to her. "Your climax holding me, tightening?"

The spasms were fainter. She could breathe, almost... if it weren't for the sensation of herself enveloping his fingers. She had to... needed to move, to turn away... hide her face from him.