True Colors (27 page)

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Authors: Joyce Lamb

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: True Colors
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She chased his mouth with hers. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
But he did stop and started getting up. What was he doing? Didn’t he know she needed this? Needed the connection. In desperate, haunting ways she never had needed before.
He stood, and she prevented him from moving away by hooking her fingers in the waistband of his shorts. He stilled, holding his breath as she worked the button free, her hands brushing against the hard bulge molded against fabric. He was as excited as she was, and he was going to walk away? She didn’t think so.
Smoothing a firm hand over the front of his shorts, she found and shaped him with her fingers, pressing and releasing, pressing and releasing in time to the growing throb between her own legs. When he dropped his head back and groaned her name, she worked his zipper down and wriggled her fingers inside. His velvety skin was searing against her cool hand, and she listened to his breathing go shallow and fast as she gripped him and stroked. A shudder shook him, and he leaned forward a little, bracing against her, as though his knees had weakened.
Smiling, loving the effect she had on him, she withdrew her fingers just as his hands slid into her hair on either side of her head. He bent down and kissed her, his tongue meeting hers in a dance that grew more and more frenzied. As they kissed, teeth clicking together, lips crushed, she tugged his shorts down. She pulled back, laughing softly at the way he chased her mouth, but she wanted to watch as she freed the part of him that curved upward in his desire for her.
Her heart thumped with lust and hunger and love at the stunning perfection of his erection, long and thick and veined, a drop of moisture gathering on the tip. She couldn’t wait to get him inside her, but she wanted to make him crazy for her first.
He tried again to tug her up, to kiss her, but she held him back with one hand on his chest and focused on what she wanted. She slid from the edge of the sofa to her knees in front of him, trailing her palm down over the front of his shirt and across his rock-hard abs. He jerked in her hand as she stroked him, then peering up at him through her lashes, she slid him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around only his tip.
Her body clutched at its core, tightening in anticipation, pulsing with pleasure so acute it felt as if he touched her as intimately as she touched him.
His body tensed, and he locked his knees, his hands clutching in her hair, his dark gaze intent on hers the entire time she sucked and licked and took him, and herself, to the edge only to back off and soothe them both with soft, sweet kisses and little puffs of breath. When his knees started to tremble, he pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop and dragged her to her feet.
“I wasn’t finished,” she said with a pout, her own knees weak with need. She was sure that if he’d let her finish, she would have come just as hard as he was about to.
He answered with a growl and a soul-stealing kiss. And then he kicked away the shorts around his ankles and swept her up into his arms to carry her toward the bedroom.
“This is where I intended to take you before you decided to make plans of your own,” he said gruffly.
She smiled, relieved to realize she’d misread him earlier. He hadn’t been putting a stop to their lovemaking. He’d merely wanted to move it to the bedroom. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him as he walked, her fingers sifting through his soft hair and then massaging the spot behind his right ear that made him almost lose his footing.
In the bedroom, he bumped the door closed with his hip, then deposited her on the bed, coming to rest on top of her. She moved her legs apart to cradle him, arching off the mattress as his hardness nudged her through her clothing. She was wet and aching, a frustrated throb that demanded attention soon.
“You have way too many clothes on,” he complained, and set about stripping them away.
They both froze when they heard his cell phone start to ring in the other room. “Ignore it,” he said after the second ring, and they started to laugh as they got tangled up in the process of removing both their shirts at the same time. Being with him felt so right. Easy and fun and so, so good.
Then he was kissing her again, going deeper and wetter, his tongue stroking and exploring, his hand . . . oh, God, his hand tickling up her ribs and capturing an already erect nipple between two fingers. She gasped as he tweaked, let out a strangled cry as he did it again and again, chuckling against her mouth at her growing restlessness.
She groped for his erection, desperate to take him into her, feeling swollen inside with the intensity of her need.
“Slow down,” he whispered against her throat. “If I can wait after what you just did to me, so can you.”
She moaned her frustration, but then his fingers started a more intimate exploration, and she arched against his hand, her body tensing and gathering momentum. She was already there, already ready to come, and she held tight to him, her teeth against his shoulder as the wave rolled toward her, gathering strength and speed and height.
Then his fingers left her, and she dropped her head back with a soft shriek of frustration. He laughed again, dark and low and promising. “Hang on, sweetie. I’ve got you.”
Instead of taking the plunge and putting them both out of their misery, he kissed his way down her torso, stopping to softly kiss her scar before moving on to suck swollen nipples, then explore every inch of her quivering belly. If he didn’t touch her where she wanted to be touched soon, she was going to implode. In fact, he spent so much time on her navel, nipping and kissing and fucking it with his tongue, that she slipped a hand between them and down to relieve the ache with her own hand.
But he caught her wrist before she could slide her fingers over herself and muttered something that sounded like “No, you don’t,” against her lower belly, and finally, finally, he slid his tongue over the right spot. Not firmly enough, though, and he only prolonged the moment, pushing her to the point that her muscles strained and trembled on the cusp of something truly seismic.
Payback was a bitch, and he paid her back for every time she’d brought him to the edge only to back off and gentle her with soft kisses and promises of next time.
The last time, she gained enough control of herself to shift position so she could palm his erection, finding him hotter and harder than before. How he could keep denying himself, and her, she had no idea. But he wasn’t going to do it for much longer, that was for damn sure. She pumped her hand on him, using the moisture at his tip to create a nice, firm friction.
His breath hissed between his teeth, and his body stiffened. Grabbing her wrists, he trapped them above her head with one hand, then used his free hand to guide himself to her. She lifted her hips to get him there faster, nearly sobbing her relief when he eased inside her that first inch. He paused, sucking in a harsh breath.
“Don’t move.”
Her eyes just about rolled back in her head. Don’t move? Don’t
move
? She moved, shoving her hips up against him, groaning at the rocking pleasure as he finally filled her.
“Oh, God,” she breathed against his ear, a tremor rolling through her at the intensity of the connection, the absolute rightness of it.
He shuddered as he lifted away from her, withdrawing almost completely, then sinking back into her at a maddeningly slow pace.
Her heart shuddered right along with him, and she tugged at her wrists until he released them. She grasped his firm butt and pulled him closer, deeper, locking her ankles at the small of his back and angling her hips up so he could sink in another inch.
“Jesus, Alex,” he groaned into her ear. “You’re so tight and hot.”
A ripple of pleasure undulated through her, and he froze in the act of withdrawal, braced on his elbows. “Oh, Jesus,” he said through his teeth. “Not yet, not yet. This is too good.”
But she couldn’t help it, his words, his warm, moist breath on her ear, his impossibly hard heat inside her, touching her more deeply than she’d ever been touched, and she was gone. The slow build, the ebb and flow, fast and slow, of the prolonged pleasure, exploded inside her with a power that shocked her.
He held her as she convulsed, not thrusting or otherwise moving, just holding her tight against him through the storm, and somehow, the lack of movement, the pressure of him still hard inside her only served to draw out the pleasure until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, frozen in an explosion of orgasm that eclipsed the sun.
It took her a long time to come down, her heart thudding in her ears, her breath fast and shallow. When she finally arrived back inside her body, it was to the sensation of Logan kissing the moisture from her temples, his tongue pausing to play in the shell of her ear and then tug at her ear lobe. He kissed her, his lips soft and reverent and warm, his tongue gentle and caressing. As he trailed kisses over her cheek toward her ear, he asked, “Are you with me?”
She smiled. Oh, yeah, she was with him. She was
so
with him. Forever and always.
But then she realized that his words had a more immediate and tactile meaning as he shifted back from her ever so slightly. He’d ridden out her earth-shattering orgasm without letting himself go with her. He still filled her, more than before, judging from the pressure, so either he’d gotten harder while she’d gotten off, or she’d gotten tighter around him.
He breathed through his nose, slow and measured. “We’re going to have to take this slow,” he murmured.
She buried her face against his neck and hugged him, her heart overflowing with an emotion so overwhelming it tightened her throat. “I love you,” she whispered.
His body stilled, and he drew his head back to look down at her. He looked stunned at first, then a slow smile spread over his lips, and his beautiful, beautiful starburst eyes gleamed. “I love you, too.”
She smiled, then couldn’t stop a shaky, ecstatic,
relieved
laugh. Everything would be fine. Logan loved her.
They began to move together slowly and reverently, their breathing and heartbeats synchronized, and Alex felt the impossible pleasure build all over again. Inside and out, like nothing she’d ever felt before, as though they were one body, feeling the same joy in the same way. When his thrusts grew short and less rhythmic, she held on to him, hitting another high note just moments before he stiffened and began jerking against her with a long, harsh groan.
Amazingly, everything inside her tensed yet again, and as he calmed down, already softening inside her, she shot up and over on a wave higher and more intense than any before. She felt as if she’d just turned inside out and the most sensitive, most vulnerable part of her was clamped in rippling, wet, silken heat. Pleasure gushed in a hot, volcanic rush that went on and on. She had no control over her body, no control over her mind as the world narrowed down to intense, rocketing, mind-wiping pleasure.
When she came back to herself, Logan had collapsed beside her. He drew her against him and snuggled his nose into her hair, his hand sliding up and down in the perspiration on her back, while she fought for breath.
What the hell had just happened?
She’d had orgasms before. With Logan, in fact. Incredible, awe-inducing multiple orgasms. No one had ever played her body like Logan could. But she’d never felt anything like she just had. No, wait. She had, a little anyway, the first time they’d made love. She’d thought it amazing that it could be so intensely good, even when he wasn’t touching her in just the right places. She’d thought it was because she cared so much for him. That emotional connection heightened the experience, made it better, made it incredible.
But now it slowly dawned on her that the force of that moment just now . . . it hadn’t been because they’d professed their love. Yes, that helped. A lot. But love alone couldn’t do that. Not even a man with a skilled hand and even more skilled . . . moves could do
that
.
She remembered Charlie’s secret, sly expression in the car after they’d gone to see AnnaCoreen the first time. Her sister had been trying to cheer her up.
There are perks to the curse.
Yeah? Like what?
I can’t ruin the surprise. Just trust me.
Perks to the curse. What could be more perk-ish, or mind-blowing, than literally experiencing a lover’s orgasm?
The turbo empathy was back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
L
ogan held Alex close against him, unable to get enough of touching her, his heart feeling bigger somehow, fuller. No more Grinch here. Alex
loved
him. Loved
him
.
He’d hoped and prayed, but he hadn’t been sure, hadn’t even thought he deserved it. He’d known she liked him, a lot. But he hadn’t known for sure that this wasn’t . . . perhaps a transition for her. She’d almost died, and as a cop, he knew that near-death experiences often led to fast, furious relationships that celebrated the pleasures in life. Eventually, such relationships ran their course.
But this wasn’t that.
This
was real. He’d insisted on taking it slow . . . well, as slow as Alex would accept. And now he couldn’t believe his luck that after the hell of Detroit, he’d miraculously landed here, in Lake Avalon, in Alex Trudeau’s bed, in her heart, exactly where he wanted to spend the rest of his days.

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