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‘It’s all right, you know,’ she whispered against his cheek, before licking a wet trail across the sensual curve of his upper lip and kissing the corner of his mouth. All the while she tasted him her hands were moving in circular sweeping motions over the hard muscles of his shoulders and back. ‘I just want to live in the moment. I want this, you, now, Soren.’
Her throaty plea broke whatever bonds remained, desire overrode everything, sanity vaporised in the heat that flared white hot between them as he rolled her under him and began to kiss her, the air around them shimmering with the heat the entwined pair were producing.
She gasped and moaned as he touched her everywhere, wakening nerve pathways, pleasure pathways she had never known existed. She clutched at him, revelling at his hardness and strength, responding to instinct as she arched into him, not wanting to be closer, wanting to be part of him.
He levered himself away for a moment, but it was only to divest himself of his shorts. Her insides liquefied as she watched him through the shades of her lashes, her cheeks flushed with passion, her small breasts rising and falling in tune to her shallow, fast inspirations.
Her scrutiny seemed to arouse him even further, if that were possible. She had to satisfy her carnal curiosity. Rolling a little to one side, she reached out, and, tongue caught between her teeth, she ran her fingers down the silky hard length of him, before her hand tightened around him, drawing a deep fractured groan from his lips.
She gave a small whimper of protest as he took her hand.
‘Not now, I can’t...’ His face was a primal mask of need as he pinned both her wrists above her head with one big hand and, arching over her, kissed his way down her quivering body.
Her thighs parted to aid his carnal exploration of her most intimate core, the intensity of the sensations sweeping through her so intense that the pleasure bordered pain.
As he touched the aching area where her pain was centred she pushed against him in the grip of a hunger beyond anything she had ever imagined.
She grabbed his head and pulled him down, not sure what she was babbling against his neck, but he seemed to understand her incoherent pleas as he ran a soothing hand down her face before kissing her, a deep, drowning, painfully slow kiss that relaxed the taut muscles in her body.
On some level she was aware of him reaching for a condom, but then he settled between her legs and her awareness contracted, focused on his dark beautiful face, until nothing else existed.
‘Put your legs around me,cara.’
She responded to the growled instruction without taking her eyes off him. The stripped-back raw expression on his face was utterly riveting. He bent in, his lips teasing and taunting her mouth, dipping in and out of the honeyed wet interior with his tongue.
Her ankles tightened around his waist to increase the tortured pressure at the juncture of her legs, growing slick as the pressure increased.
Her body arched as he entered her, her eyes squeezing tight shut as, with a series of sharp pants, her sweat-slick body adjusted to accept him. All her being was focused inwards on each new sensation as pleasure pathways awoke, as she moved with him as he touched places deep and then deeper inside her, part of her.
Then, just at the point when she really thought she was losing her mind in the delirium of pleasure, he whispered in her ear, urging her to let go, to trust him.
She did.
She didn’t fall back to earth, she floated back...
It was the sun shining directly in her face that woke Anna. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes and stretched languidly. She grimaced—she felt stiff—and her eyes flew wide. Lying there on her back, staring at the ceiling, she reached out and patted the bed either side. One side carried a slight dint, cold as if whoever had made it was long gone, the other revealed a nightdress.
Clutching the nightdress to her chest, she sat up and looked around the room she had not seen in the light. It was empty. The night’s events slid through her head, from the dancing by candlelight to the making love for the second time, just as intense but slower and even more mind-blowing than the first time.
She’d been wrong: the reality had turned out to be not a let-down at all; the reality had turned out to be incredible! She looked around the room again and a flicker of uncertainty found its way to her face.
She was no expert on morning-after etiquette, but waking up alone did not feel like the perfect way to start the day after the night before.
Pushing aside the rumpled bed covers, she pulled the discarded nightdress over her head and, wriggling her way into it, got out of the bed.
She looked around, not sure what to do, apart from the necessary, which required a bathroom. The first door she opened was a large walk-in wardrobe with pretty monochrome contents; the next was the bathroom. It was just as luxurious as her own but with a much bigger shower and less choice on the perfume and potions front.
She emerged five minutes later feeling more comfortable. She’d tamed her tangled hair with a silver-backed brush and given her hands and face a perfunctory wash but had resisted the temptation of the shower, and was glad she had when the door opened and Soren appeared.
Her heart skipped a beat as she stood there leeching composure, then she noticed he was not alone.
Her eyes flew from his face to the two powerful-looking dogs, pale gold in colour. They had dark masked faces, almond-shaped intelligent eyes; their muscular, powerful bodies seemed to quiver with energy.
‘This is Ragnar and Rok.’
‘Clever,’ she said, sending him a shy smile. He was wearing a shirt open at the neck, the sleeves rolled up and jeans that were dusty at the knees.
‘Boys, this is Anna.’
