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“Ah, Nicole.” Dustin’s embrace tightened, and he seized her mouth with a kind of raw desperation, opening it to his v tongue, his taste, his possession. “I love you. God, I love you so much.”
She pressed closer, thinking that nothing could be more right than this exquisite, incomparable moment—only to find that the next one surpassed it. With uninhibited joy, she gave herself up to her husband’s spell, kissing him back with all the fervor in her soul.
Dustin groaned, lifting her up and into him, devouring her mouth with an urgency that far transcended the physical. His tongue sought and found every tingling surface, stroked them with tender, heated caresses that branded them as his. Molding her to fit against him, he held her there, cupping her bottom and pressing his rigid erection into the warm haven between her thighs, kissing her again and again until neither of them could think, or talk, or breathe.
Nicole’s head was spinning, her body liquid with longing as the hard ridge of Dustin’s flesh throbbed against her yearning core, burning through the fine layer of her nightdress. She wanted to part her legs to him, feel him thrust deep inside her, fill the hollow void he’d created and only he could fill. Instinctively, she moved against him, and he made a rough sound deep in his throat, crushing her closer still, his hands moving reverently over the hidden curves of her body.
“Dustin.” She tore her mouth from his. “Please—take me to bed.”
Her plea was more than enough.
Wresting himself away, Dustin seized the hem of her nightdress, pulled it over her head, and cast it to the floor. “You’re even more breathtaking than I remembered,” he managed hoarsely, his ravenous stare raking her with a need that made the throbbing inside her quicken.
With a heated shiver, Nicole reached forward, unbelting his robe and pushing it open. He flung it alongside her nightdress, then swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
“I want you more now than I did before—more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” he rasped, lowering her to the sheets. Ever so lightly, he traced the curves of her breasts, brushed the hardened peaks of her nipples, then stopped, fanning her hair out over the pillow and standing back to make love to her with his eyes.
Nicole’s breath was coming in shallow pants, her whole body flushed with arousal. Lying perfectly still, she surveyed her husband, wondering at the incredible sexual magnetism he exuded, as natural to him as breathing. He wasn’t even touching her, yet her body was throbbing in conjunction with each shift of his intensifying scrutiny. She nearly sobbed aloud when his gaze found the core of her femininity, his expression growing taut with strain, hot with desire. “Dustin.” She was hardly aware she’d said his name, her own greedy stare instinctively dropping to his rigid manhood, now huge and pulsing with its need for her. Awed, her gaze returned to—and locked with—his.
Dustin took an inadvertent step toward the bed, then checked himself, his jaw clenched against the tide of sensation they both knew was already out of control. “No,” he attempted, giving voice to the words. “I want to make this last for hours, days …”
“Dustin … please,” Nicole whispered, opening her arms to him.
Restraint vanished.
With a growl of capitulation, Dustin covered Nicole with himself, seizing her mouth in a kiss so openly carnal that Nicole moaned with the dizzying impact, arched instinctively against him. “Yes,” she breathed as his lips left hers, blazed a trail down her body, igniting an inferno every place he touched.
“Perfect,” he muttered against her breast, drawing the aching nipple into his mouth. “You’re heaven.”
“Oh, Dustin.” Nicole’s eyes drifted shut, and she shivered, holding his head to keep him there even as her body arched to lure him further along his path.
He captured her hands in his, intertwined their fingers as he shifted to her other breast,
bathed it in liquid fire, then inched his way down the bed, worshipping her with reverent strokes of his mouth.
Abruptly, Nicole needed to share the magic, to discover the warmth and textures she’d been unable to explore during their one all-too-brief joining.
Wriggling free, she urged her startled husband to his back, running her palms over the powerful breadth of his shoulders, down the contours of his hair-roughened chest. “It’s my turn,” she whispered, gazing up at him.
Excitement flashed in Dustin’s eyes. “I’m all yours,” he murmured huskily, stretching his arms overhead.
Nicole felt a surge of exhilaration. She shifted her hands, teased his nipples with her thumbs, and was rewarded by his low groan of pleasure, the tightening of his nipples beneath her touch. Venturing downward, her fingers traced the steely muscles of his abdomen, the corded muscles of his thighs, and her gaze returned to his, saw the shimmer of anticipation reflected there.
She answered it.
Dustin went taut when her fingers closed around his shaft, stroked its rigid length. A hard shudder wracked his body, and he groaned—a primal sound of male need—before he seized her wrist, taught her the pleasure she was capable of bringing him, then relinquished himself to her magic.
Eagerly, Nicole complied, glorying in her husband’s blatant masculinity, her own wondrous sense of abandon as she teased him with featherlight strokes of her fingertips, more purposeful sweeps of her palm. A sudden thought struck her, and on impulse, she lowered her head, murmuring, “The way you made love to me in the cabin—with your mouth—would that please you as well?”
“I won’t survive,” he ground out, trembling as her hair swept his thighs.
She paused, giving him a siren’s smile. “Try,” she breathed, taking him into the warm cavern of her mouth, tasting him as he had her.
Dustin nearly launched off the bed. Whip-taut, he arched like a bowstring, gripping the headboard to steady the harsh tremors wracking his body. “Nicole, I can’t.” Even as he commanded her to stop, his hips lifted, begging her to take more of him.
Recalling her own helpless ecstasy when he’d done this to her, Nicole ignored her husband’s protests, concentrated on the mysteries of his body and the miracle of his response. She savored his size, his velvety hardness, the warm droplets of fluid he was unable to repress.
“Nicole … God, sweetheart, you’re killing me.” Desperately, Dustin fought to withstand the exquisite torture, broken love words escaping him, his knuckles white with the strain of holding back.
