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His hands covered hers, closing on them painfully, his shoulders hunching.
‘God, Jo. I could climax just listening to you. I hear you in my dreams, feel you against me. I wake up hard as granite and with your scent lingering and I dread the sun rising because it means I must go through another day making believe I’m not aching to touch you.’
She rose on tiptoe, brushing the tense muscle in his cheek with her mouth, his stubble tingling on her lips.
‘And I ache whenever you accidently touch me...’ she murmured, kissing a trail along his jaw, hovering at the corner of his mouth where a muscle was twitching.
‘There is nothing accidental about it. You’ve reduced me to the level of a green youth, brushing against you because I can’t think of anything else to do.’
She leaned against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, and his arms finally went around her, hesitant for a moment before closing hard around her, a groan rising through him as he pulled her against him, burying his face in the curve of her neck. His arousal was hot and hard against her stomach and she shivered with anticipation.
‘A well-endowed youth,’ she gasped as his teeth grazed the side of her neck. ‘And growing...’
Something between a laugh and a groan escaped him and he hauled her into his arms, striding towards his bed. He stood for a moment holding her above it, his eyes emerald bright. Then he lay her down, very gently, and bent to kiss her.
It went on and on, from soft butterfly brushes of his lips to his tongue teasing, sweeping against hers, coaxing her into a response that coursed through her body. It was in complete contrast with the desire that was flashing through her, nervous and demanding.
He neither joined her nor undressed her, just rested his fists on the bed as his mouth seduced, plundered, caressed and coaxed her until she was panting, her hands pulling at his shoulders to bring her to him, her heels pressing into the bed.
‘Benneit, please. Please.’
‘Soon. I want you to need me as much as I need you. I want you flayed in the same agony you reduced me to.’
‘I am, I am... Oh, God, hurry!’
‘Not a chance in hell.’
He undressed her just as slowly, stopping only to help her fevered attempts to do the same to him. If she hadn’t seen the green flames in his eyes, the tension in the lines bracketing his mouth, she might have been afraid at the difference in their passion, but she knew his control was in accord with his need. She could feel it in the heat of his skin, the staccato rapping of his pulse. His breathing was as short and shallow as a man caught by fever and everywhere she touched she felt his muscles flinch and watched his eyelids dip as if in pain.
If she hadn’t felt his tension she might have thought he was toying with her. But though she might mistrust his words, she felt a passion that matched hers in every tense line of his body and face.
When they were finally naked, his eyes stripped her again, raking over her body with an appreciation and pleasure that soothed her doubts.
‘You’re beautiful, Jo. Beautiful and mine.’ His voice was harsh, filled with the same demanding accusation she had mistaken for hatred. She didn’t even question the lie—right now she was beautiful. As exquisite as he. She drew him down against her, luxuriating in the slide of his body against hers, the landscape of soft and hard, smooth and rough. She wanted to absorb him, pull him into her and never let go.
‘I love feeling you, Benneit, love how you feel on me, against me.’
She could not stop her hands from caressing him, stroking his chest, her nails tracing the silky dark hair, snagging on his hardened nipple, making him gasp and buck against her. He laughed and groaned at the same time, his legs tangling with hers, his hipbone grinding into the soft skin of her abdomen as she writhed against him, loving everything—the pleasure, the pain, the anticipation, even her coming destruction had a sweetness to it, like the last glimmer of a sunset.
‘My wanton pixie, you will finish me before we even begin.’
She didn’t answer, just drew his head down to hers, kissing him with everything inside her, holding nothing back.
Every caress, every glide of her body against his was too much, every touch of his fingers and mouth raising her inexorably towards the promise of sweet release. She hardly even sobered when he left her for a moment, returning with something he extracted from a box, sheathing himself with it before he sank back between her legs, his hand soothing as he eased her legs further apart before entering her gently, slowly. He filled her utterly, hot and hard and so right. She didn’t want him to move because it would be the end of it, but when he did she just abandoned herself to the joy of their bodies, the way his chest scraped against her breasts, the way his hand moved between them, goading her on until she was panting and begging, her legs rising to pull him in as deeply as she could. Then the pleasure became unbearable, hot honeyed waves hitting again and again as if they would never stop. She wanted to cry or yell, but could do nothing but fall as the world burst and faded. Even as she lost herself she dimly felt him move inside her, his chest heaving with great gasping breaths.
