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She slid her hands over his shoulders and made contact with his skin. She made a small guttural sound of satisfaction. Urgently, she moved her hands lower down his back. There was the sound of fabric tearing and he lifted his head sharply.
With an abrupt, jerky motion he rose to his knees and began fumbling with his shirt buttons. Lindy found his unsteady efforts far more exciting than the beautifully lit, choreographed slickness of his love scenes on film. With a soft curse he pulled at the garment, sending the remaining buttons flying in several directions. This wasn’t soft-focus lovemaking—this was urgent and primal.
Tongue caught between her teeth, Lindy reached up to unfasten the buckle on his leather belt. She shot him hot, furtive glances from under the fringe of her lashes as she pulled the denim apart. Using the leverage of her fingers in his waistband, she hoisted herself up from the bed until her tight, tingling breasts were pressed against the warm, hard flesh of his belly.
The strength quite abruptly drained from her body, and if Sam hadn’t wrapped one powerful arm around her middle at the critical moment she’d have slid bonelessly back against the covers.
‘I’m shaking,’ she whispered.
‘That makes two of us.’ His smile caressed and beguiled her.
‘Well, I hope you can manage the rest of your clothes because my co-ordination has taken a holiday.’ Her smouldering glance moved over his face as if it were tasting him. At least her eyes couldn’t leave any marks. Best not to risk the ire of a production company. The thought wrenched a small bubble of laughter from her throat.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked throatily. He pushed his free hand into her hair and inclined her head towards him. The gift of her throat proved too much to resist. With a hoarse moan he bent over and tasted the salty flavour of her creamy, flawless skin. As his mouth slid lower so did they, until she lay supine, shadowed by his protective bulk.
She felt a moment’s agitation when he raised himself up onto his knees and distanced himself from her. The blip in her bliss was only momentary as he proved that, even if he was afflicted by the shakes, he was more than capable of removing his clothing.
Her languorous glance slid slowly and deliberately from his face. He reacted with pulsing awareness to her eyes, as if their touch were real. The thought of actually touching the silky, sheathed hardness made her draw a voluptuous, shuddering sigh.
‘Have mercy, lover; this is meant to be sweet and slow.’ He lowered his body down to cover her thigh to thigh, hard muscle to soft, yielding flesh.
‘What if I feel urgent and greedy?’ She spoke into his ear and curled her fingers into the dense springiness of his luxuriant hair. The weight of him, the glorious strength of his awesome body felt so good.
‘Then a last-minute change of direction might be arranged.’
Her tongue sought the pulse spot at the base of his throat and a deep shudder rippled through his powerful frame. Memory told her she’d always been a passive partner in the dim and distant past. Discovering the unexpected delights of feminine power made her feel feverish and dizzy.
‘God, Sam, I think I’m out of control,’ she confessed raggedly against his damp skin.
‘The grooves you’re gouging in my back sort of give the game away.’ Despite the ambiguous cocktail of warmth and ferocity in his voice, the fingers that opened the foil wrapper were steady.
His gentle probing of her most sensitive regions initiated a series of agonised pleas for release. The tormenting stroke of his fingers stopped long enough for him to anchor her thrashing head and look deep into her feverish eyes.
‘I want to watch you.’ And he did, the violet-blue of his eyes almost obliterated by his dilated pupils. The possessive exultation she saw there made Lindy want to shout out loud to release the explosion of pure joy she felt. She wasn’t entirely sure that she hadn’t done just that!
Feeling the probing touch of his manhood against her own slick heat, Lindy eagerly wrapped her long pale legs around him. The anchor was complete as he slid smoothly into her.
Her initial response was uncontrolled and fierce, but gradually she was swamped and absorbed by the delicate rhythm Sam slowly built up.
‘That’s it, sweetheart, don’t rush, hold on,’ Sam encouraged her hoarsely. He dug deeply into his reserves of self-control so as not to respond immediately to the thunderous roar in his blood. He didn’t want his own greed to spoil the special moment. The delicate balance of his control slipped when Lindy reached up and suckled one pebble-flat male nipple. With a harsh cry he plunged deeper into her welcoming heat and brought them both to a ferocious, gasping climax.
