Page 43 of Passion's Prey


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Then he was covering her mouth with his, taking her moist sweetness, and, as his kiss became more demanding, deep inside her the old magic woke and grew into life. It was primitive, ancient as time itself, and she felt it all round her, as if that slumbering sea monster had somehow penetrated this room and was enmeshing her in its coils.

When finally his lips left hers, to slide instead to the soft angle of her jaw just beneath the earlobe3 she felt the pulse there flutter crazily against his hot mouth. Taking the tender lobe between his teeth, he nipped it, running the very tip of his taut tongue around it, before spiralling gently round the intricate lines of her ear.

The storm had faded, somewhere beyond the tumult of her own blood and the thunder of Jared's breath in her ear. A wholly new, erotic sensation was surging through her; her entire body was slowly turning to water so that, utterly bereft of strength, she sagged against him. Jared lifted his head and looked down into her face, his eyes a pale smoky grey with desire, and with an expression so intent that a wild exhilaration sang in her veins. Just for a second, though, through the haze of sensation, she felt fear rising again. 'No—no,' she murmured and raised her hands to push him away, but Jared took them and held them tightly against his chest.

'Yes. Yes, my darling. Trust me—don't be afraid. Just go with your body.'

He released her hands, then untied the knot of her robe and slipped it from her shoulders, leaving her standing in her cream slip. She heard his breath catch in his throat.

'You're so beautiful, s o . . . ' h e seemed to search for the word, then said huskily ' . . . perfect.'

Lifting one hand, he traced along the scalloped lace edge of the slip, his fingers brushing butterfly-softly the curves of her breasts, until her entire frame was shaken with an intense shudder. Then, as the erotic sensations beat through her, her body stiffened, passion taking it over completely.

When he picked her up she lay in his arms, staring up at him from under her lashes. He halted at the bedside, but, instead of laying her down, stood holding her and gazing into her face His head blotted out the soft light from the small shell lamp, so that she could not see his expression clearly, but she felt the power blazing in him.

Then, very slowly, he laid her on the bed and came down beside her. His fingers eased away the straps of her slip and bra to lay bare her breasts, down to the aureoles, and at his touch the rosy brown centres puckered and tautened. Lowering his head to the silky fabric, he suckled each breast in turn, until she gasped and clenched her hands on his shoulders, as her head went violently to and fro on the pillow.

When his lips finally left her aching breasts, leaving little circles of wetness on the slip, it was to ravish her mouth, extracting kisses from her until she felt her own lips swell. Inexorably, with his sensual touch, he was sucking her identity from her, so that at last she melted in his arms, ceasing to be Petra and becoming only the essence of woman through the ages, to be desired and taken by an overwhelmingly sexual male.

When his fingers brushed against her thigh, easing her out of her panties, she gasped again, deep in her throat, curled her arms around him tightly and arched against him. Muttering something inarticulate, he slid his hands under her buttocks, raised her slightly, then, with a slowness that made her almost cry outwith wanting, he nudged her legs apart with his knee and moved over her.

He paused then, and she heard him breathing deeply, the sweat slicking on his body, which trembled slightly beneath her spread fingers. But, as she-opened herself to him, he eased forward. There was one sharp shaft of pain, transforming her from unfulfilled girl to woman, then it was gone, and with the intensity of sensation she cried aloud. At the sound he seemed to explode into passion and, eyes closed, she could only cling to him, following where he took her. All feeling was focused on that tight, burning core at her centre, and yet it was spilling out into the rest of her, the tempest within her matching the potency of the storm outside.

And then Jared gasped, a long, ragged sound which shook his whole frame. Deep inside her, like a desert flower which had lain withered through years of drought, she felt something flex its parched petals, expand and bloom.

She tensed once more, then, with a last broken sigh, lay motionless in his arms . . .

* * *

The wind rattling at the pane roused them. Jared turned his head slightly on the pillow and looked at her, his eyes languorous. She smiled shyly at him, unable to find words to tell him what had happened to her—that something had changed within her, shifting very slightly so that she would never be quite the same again.

But she couldn't tell him any of that, of course, so instead she lifted her hand and very softly brushed it across his lips. He took it and lazily kissed the soft palm, over and over, long slow kisses, which drugged her already slumbrous mind.

'Sit up,' he murmured. 'I want to see you naked.'

Raising himself against the pillow, he lifted her up and took off her slip, sliding it voluptuously over her slender body. Her bra followed, eased away gently, then as they fell free his hands cupped her breasts, the warm thumbs rubbing softly against her nipples until the delicate friction made her gasp and catch her under-lip in her teeth. When he laid her down again she pulled at the belt of his robe, loosing it then sliding it away from him. As he propped himself on one arm she looked at his body from beneath heavy lashes, luxuriating in the hard muscles, the flat planes of his stomach, the sheer male strength of him, under that satin-smooth sheath of skin.

'You are so beautiful,' she whispered.

'Strange,' he said huskily, 'I was just going to say the same thing.'

He gave her that crooked little smile, then reached for her again. His hands, roaming over every soft, rounded contour, were reducing her once more to trembling compliance, while the aroma of his body, so potent beneath the scent of aftershave and soap, was more powerful than any artificial aphrodisiac.

Elemental feelings surged through her. She wanted to bury her face against those taut muscles, kissing and nipping the olive flesh until he writhed beneath her mouth as she was doing under his.

She murmured something incoherent, and he said softly, 'What is it you want, my sweetheart?'

'I—don't—know,' she muttered.

'Yes, you do.' He turned her face to his. 'You want to touch me, taste me, take me into yourself.' His voice was hypnotic. 'Touch me, Petra. That's what you long to do, isn't it?'

Of course it was. For years and years and years, that was what she'd wanted. That want had always been there, but hidden away so deep inside her that she hadn't even known it existed. Until Jared had come back. Until tonight.

'Isn't it?'

'Yes,' she whispered. 'Yes—yes— yes.'

And she ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, hesitantly at first, her eyes lowered, but then, as she felt the muscles tense under her, the nipples stiffen beneath her palm, she looked straight up into Jared's face, and saw the flush which darkened his cheekbones. Her fingers moved lower, over his belly, then they were sliding through the brush of dark hair and down the moist skin of his thigh.

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