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He stopped at her hips, his hands tightening to hold her steady as his tongue teased the little hollow between her neck and her shoulder, the sensation as erotic as if his tongue were on her clit. More, she thought, as a wild tremor went through her, and she moaned, wanting him to never stop touching her like that even as she wanted to feel him inside her.
That incredible mouth of his moved lower still, his lips trailing over the swell of her breast as he brushed his palm softly over her other nipple, sending fingers of fire shooting through her. Making her even more wet. Making her crazy.
He pushed her back until she fell onto the bed, and she squirmed, trapped between the mattress and this man, and all she wanted was him. His hands, his mouth. Everything.
“More.”
She saw the heat flare in his eyes before his mouth brushed over hers. She felt her body tremble, and she stifled the little moan of pleasure that bubbled up when his lips grazed her cheek, her ear, her hair.
“Sara,” he whispered, and pulled her close, his hands in her hair, his body hard against her.
Ready, so ready.
“Luke,” she managed. “Please.”
And then his mouth was on hers, and she lost herself in the kiss, her pulse tripping as his hands explored her body and his mouth moved to dance kisses along her neck even as he murmured soft words that seemed to shoot straight through her, making her warm and wet and ready.
“Sara,” he murmured. “By the gods, Sara.”
She melted beneath his words, her mind knowing only a desperate, urgent desire. She thrust her hands into the back pocket of his jeans and urged him closer even as his kisses turned so wild it seemed as if he wanted to consume her.
So help her, she wanted him to.
He grabbed her wrists, holding them above her head as his mouth dipped to her breast. His tongue teased her nipple before pulling away, the sensation of cool air on damp flesh intensely erotic, and she writhed with need, silently begging him to touch her, to take her all the way over.
He needed very little encouragement, and he slid down her body, making her gasp as he pressed his hands to the inside of her thighs, the pads of his thumbs teasing her mercilessly. His mouth soon joined in the torment, the magic of his tongue making her breathless and desperate.
She buried her fingers in his hair as her body writhed with pleasure, but still seeking more. “Luke,” she murmured, wanting to feel him on top of her, inside her. Wanting to feel his lips, his tongue. Wanting to taste him and tease him. “Luke, please.”
She eased him up, then took his mouth hungrily in hers. She hooked one leg around his waist, locking him in place, wanting him, all of him.
“Please,” she whispered, sliding a hand between them to struggle with his fly. Beneath her hand, his erection strained, and he growled low in his throat, the desire she heard making her crazy.
“Sara,” he whispered, his voice raw, as full of need as she felt. He moved off her long enough to strip, then returned, his eyes full of question.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, please, yes.”
He kissed her then, wild and deep, his cock finding her core even as his mouth ravaged her. She opened her legs wider, rising up for him, needing to feel him inside her, craving the connection. She gasped as he filled her, then rocked with him, their bodies moving in a glorious dance as they rose higher and higher until, finally, she seemed to burst into starlight in his arms before settling back, contented, on the mattress, warm and safe within his arms.
“Sara,” he whispered as she snuggled close, wishing they could stay like that forever.
“I must go,” he said minutes later, when sleep had almost claimed her.
“Can’t you wait until morning? It’s not even four yet.”
“I cannot.” He brushed his thumb over the line of her jaw. “I desperately wish that I could.”
She forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see her desperate sadness. She’d known that he would leave; it wasn’t fair now for her to make him feel guilty. “I understand.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t. But I appreciate that you trust me.” He bent forward, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “There is no one else, Sara, and if I could stay with you, I would.” He pressed his forehead to hers, and when he spoke, she could hear the pain in his voice. “I will never forget you.”
She wanted to beg him to stay, but she knew that he wouldn’t. Whatever obligation called him away, he would honor it. She didn’t know him well, but she was certain of that much. Luke was a man who kept his promises.
“I don’t have your number,” she said as he slid from the bed and began to dress. “I don’t even have your last name.”
“When I return,” he said.
“You mean that you might not return.”
