Always - Iris Johansen [40]
Her fingers tangled in his hair and she threw back her head with a silent moan. His tongue on her breast was burning, starting little flames of sensation that touched every part of her body.
“You like that?” he muttered. She couldn’t answer: her throat had closed and her breath had stopped in her chest. He took her silence for consent and suckled strongly while his hands rhythmically squeezed her breasts. Finally his lips left her. “I love the taste of you,” he murmured. He rubbed his cheek back and forth against her breasts, and she could feel the faint stubble of his beard scraping her softness. It sent a hot liquid tingling to the apex of her thighs. “The feel of you.” With each movement his tongue darted out to caress, to tease, to taste. Her hands clenched on his shoulders, her arousal almost unbearable in its intensity. She opened her eyes and watched his lips move against the swollen globes of her breasts, his tongue on her nipples.
Then his hands were on the zipper of her slacks. He didn’t lift his head as he slid the zipper down with a soft, sibilant hiss. Then his hands were sliding beneath the waistband, cupping her buttocks. Lisa tensed, the muscles of her stomach knotting painfully. His hands were kneading her feverishly while his lips pulled powerfully at her breast. His chest labored harshly with the force of his breathing, and she could feel the hard length of him pressed against her. She nestled closer with a little moan. His muscles stiffened and his hands dug into her with unconscious force.
She didn’t care. The minute pain was only another element in the cascade of sensations. “Don’t do that,” he said between set teeth. “I’m trying to be gentle, dammit I want everything to be—” He broke off. “Oh, my God.…”
“What’s the matter?” she whispered.
“The matter is that all my brains seem to be located in my groin,” he said with supreme self-disgust. “All I can think about is laying you down across this seat and driving into you.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said with a faint smile. “It sounds wonderful to me.”
His hands tightened on her. “It was a hell of a lot easier to stop when you weren’t so willing.” His fingers moved yearningly over her skin with tactile hunger. “Say no, Lisa.”
“No?” Her eyes widened. “I don’t want to say no. Why should I do a stupid thing like that? I’m about to turn into an incendiary bomb and you want me to stop?”
“Please. Say no.” His gaze was fastened on the ripe heaviness of her breasts, and he ran his tongue over his lips, remembering the taste of her. “I can’t stop unless you do. And it’s important to me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re important to me. All my life sex has been just another appetite to be appeased.” He smiled crookedly. “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. That’s why I automatically behaved like a stud presented with a prize mare when I knew you were going to let me love you. But I don’t want that with you. I want it to be special.”
Lisa stared at him with a wild mixture of emotions—frustration, desire, exasperation, tenderness. “Now you tell me,” she said, shaking her head. After a moment her lips began to quirk. “Lord, how I hate a tease.” She slid off his lap and into the seat next to him. “All right. I’m saying no. Very reluctantly. But I have an idea you’re going to be sorry about this, Clancy.”
“I already am.” His eyes lingered hungrily on her naked breasts. “You’re taking this very well.”
“No, I’m not taking it well at all. At the moment I could murder you. Or rape you. I haven’t decided which.”
He looked startled. “That sounds bawdy, coming from you.”
“That’s because I am bawdy on occasion.” She grinned at him. “Just because I’m a trifle thin and delicate-looking, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a milk-and-water miss.”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “You seem … different.”
Her smile was a sudden brilliant flash of warmth. “I’ve come alive. If you don’t like it, that’s just too bad, Clancy. You’re