Always a Thief - Kay Hooper [63]
His arm tightened around her, and one hand began smoothing her long hair. “I know you aren't still mad—but am I forgiven?”
Morgan lifted her head then and looked down at him. He was serious, she realized. She pushed herself up on one elbow to see him better, and answered seriously. “You're forgiven. But don't ever do that to me again, Alex. I think I can stand being lied to easier than being manipulated.”
He was still toying with her hair, and a slight frown drew his brows together. Softly, he said, “I don't want to lie to you.”
“No—but you aren't ready to tell me the whole truth.” She gave him a rueful smile.
“I have my reasons, sweetheart. I think they're good reasons. Can you accept that?”
She hesitated. “I want to. But it's driving me crazy wondering how many lies you've told me. Can you at least promise that you'll tell me the truth eventually?”
Quinn nodded immediately. “Once the trap is sprung, I swear I'll tell you everything.”
“Then I'll accept that.” She kept her voice light. “Just . . . don't lie about this, all right? About us. I don't want any bedroom promises, Alex.”
His hand slid to the nape of her neck, and he pulled her down far enough to kiss her slowly. Against her mouth, he murmured, “No bedroom promises.”
Morgan had thought herself exhausted, but as his warm mouth moved against hers, she felt a surge of energy—and desire. Quinn seemed equally refreshed; his kisses deepened into hunger, and then he was pressing her back against the pillows and pushing the covers back so he could see her.
For a moment—even after all that had gone before—Morgan felt a little shy. The way he was looking at her, so direct and intent, was a bit unnerving. But then he leaned down to press a soft kiss on her stomach, then another and another in a slow trail up between her breasts, and his low words added a sensual vibration and another kind of seduction to the caresses.
“No bedroom promises—just the truth. Have you any idea what you do to me? What you've been doing to me since the night I reached out and caught you? There hasn't been a day you haven't been on my mind, and the nights . . . the nights. The nights never seemed long before, but now they do, long and cold.”
“Even this night?” she asked huskily.
“No.” He lifted his head and looked down at her with darkening eyes. “Not this night.”
Morgan had had no idea that she was even capable of such a swift and total response, but she soared toward the brink so quickly it was like yielding to an elemental force. He was inside her, filling her, and her newly awakened body was electrified by the sensations.
“You're beautiful,” he said huskily, his eyes narrowed on her taut face. “Especially like this, so alive, wanting me.”
She couldn't have said anything to that if her life had depended on it. The coiling tension inside her held her in a blissful state of pleasure so acute it bordered on pain, and she couldn't even catch her breath enough to moan.
Quinn's eyes narrowed even more as he slowly, torturously began to move, subtle undulations becoming deep, lazy thrusts, and Morgan couldn't bear it another second. It felt as if every nerve ending she possessed throbbed in rhythmic surges of pleasure, and her wild cry was caught in his mouth as he kissed her fiercely.
He followed her over the brink, his powerful body shuddering and a hoarse sound wrenched from him, and this time, sated and utterly drained, they both slept.
The sky was just beginning to lighten toward gray when Quinn slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Morgan, and went to gaze out the bedroom window. As Morgan had noted, he was accustomed to working nights, and it had reached a point where he found it difficult to sleep when it was dark.
If this kept up much longer, he reflected wryly, he really would turn into a vampire.
He stood there at the window, looking out on the quiet street in front of this apartment building, acutely aware of the soft breathing of the woman