Forged of Steele Bundle (Books 1-4) - Brenda Jackson [228]
He threw his head back and growled incoherently. He felt like the wolf claiming his mate and all the innate rights that came with that possession. And as his body began to slow down, he started feeling an inner peace, one he’d never felt before. He could only think of one word for what had just taken place on his kitchen table. Perfect.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying to reclaim a semblance of strength. He gazed down at her and he wanted her again. Just like that. Just like this. But the next time he wanted it in the bedroom, in the bed. This table was of good quality, but it could only take so much.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth gently to hers, not ready to separate from her. Her saw the aftermath of a sexual glaze in her eyes, watched a satisfied smile touch the corners of her lips. Grinning proudly he wanted to beat his fists against his chest. Instead he reached down and cupped her face in his hands. “Tell me,” he whispered throatily. “What are you thinking?”
She grinned back at him, still trying to catch her breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm, I was just thinking that you have one hell of an organ, Morgan.”
He laughed. He actually laughed and the ripples from his body went straight through to hers, making them aware they were still joined.
“Besides being a sexy lady, you’re also a poet, I see.”
She chuckled. “Sometimes. How about this one? Why waste it when you can taste it?” And then she was pulling his head down for a kiss that sent an aching need through him. When she released his mouth she smiled up at him, pleased with what she’d done.
“Arrogant woman,” he teased gruffly. “You know what I think?” he asked, leaning down and brushing a kiss across her lips.
“No, what?”
“I think we should carry this discussion to the bedroom.”
“Think you’ll get poetic justice in there?”
“Among other things.”
Lena wrapped her arms around him. “I’m curious to find out about those other things.”
Chapter 12
And just to think she had convinced herself for six years that she didn’t need sex, Lena thought, feeling the heated warmth of Morgan’s naked body snuggled so close to hers. His even breathing was an indication that he had drifted off to sleep, but to make sure she didn’t go anywhere, his arms were wrapped securely around her waist and one of his legs was thrown over hers.
They were cuddled, spoon position, in his bed after just having another round of mind-blowing lovemaking. Yes, she preferred thinking about what they’d spent doing the better part of the last two hours as making love rather than just having sex. Today he had shown her there was a difference in the two. He had been painstakingly thorough with every detail, passionate with every sensual move and personal and intimate with every word he’d whispered in her ear each and every time he entered her body.
She inhaled deeply, picking up his masculine scent while at the same time feeling an inner peace, one she hadn’t felt in a long time—at least not since her father’s death. Willie Spears hadn’t been just a man. He had been a good father, husband and provider for “his girls,” as he had often referred to her and her mother. He had been kindhearted to those he met, strong in his belief in God and a person who was always willing to lend a hand to help others. That was one of the reasons his sickness and subsequent death had taken a toll on both her and her mother.
He had requested only one promise of her, a promise she was living each day to fulfill. “Take care of my Odessa,” he’d said in what had been his final hours. “Promise that no matter what, you will take care of her, Lena. She’s my most precious gift that I’m leaving to you.”
His most precious gift.
How many men thought of the woman they loved, when they had dedicated their lives