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She closed her eyes. They were doing this. He was doing this. With her hand. Was that even possible?
Yes, clearly it was because his fingers mingled with hers, against her wetness, in an utterly wanton experience.
He lifted his head from where he’d buried it against her throat. “I have a confession.”
“Please don’t confess you want to stop.” She gasped as he moved his knuckle over the already sensitive flesh of her entrance.
He chuckled. “Not a chance.”
“Thank God.” She bit against her bottom lip. “Then what’s the confession?”
“I’ve wanted to be inside you since the first moment I saw you.” He kissed along the line of her collarbone.
No, that wasn’t true. She knew that much. He hadn’t wanted her at all in Florida.
“I’ll match your confession,” she said against his chest.
“Yeah?” He caught her gaze and held it.
“We’re wearing too many clothes.”
“You forgot to confess.” He grinned a you-lost-the-game grin.
Damn.
His mouth never left hers as he grappled with the fly of his jeans. Before she could take a solid breath, the barrier was gone. Holy crap, the Committee for the Furthering of the Covington Name had left him quite the endowment.
He yanked her panties to her thighs. She shimmied out of them while he pulled his shirt over his head to toss it aside.
His erection pressed against the side of her leg when his mouth covered hers again. His hands ran along the curve of her hip, igniting a path along her flesh. She gasped when he rubbed his palm against the heat of her, finding the sweet spot and caressing until little bursts of light flashed in her eyes.
She reveled in the safety of his embrace and the rough fingertips moving intimately against her wetness. “I confess, I really love when you call me Luce,” she said.
He pressed his lips against her ear. “Luce.”
Her panting turned harsh, in tempo with the rhythm of his fingertips. The intensity of his touch amplified every breath. She groaned as her head fell back, the edge of her release remaining out of reach.
“You’re safe with me, Luce.”
She was. And somehow on a fundamental level she finally understood what safety meant.
One of his fingers slid inside her, testing, exploring. She gasped.
Then he added another.
She was safe. The little walls she’d built all around herself to protect her emotions crumbled.
Her body throbbed, and the wave of orgasm finally released in the security of his arms. She held onto him as though he’d disappear, taking his fantastic fingers with him. But he wasn’t done. He continued to work her up once more until the intensity overtook her again and she came hard against his hand.
Before she could take a solid breath, the warmth of his body was gone. A drawer rolled open and then smacked closed.
“I need you.” His voice broke as he returned to her. “Now.”
At his words, she stripped her nightgown over her head. He dealt with the condom, and his arousal stretched the damp apex of her thighs. Her legs wrapped around his hips as gradually their boundaries blurred. Together they drowned in each other.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lucy woke as Will drew his lips along her neck. She peeked at the alarm clock beside the bed. Two o’clock in the morning was entirely too early.
