Quade's Babies - Brenda Jackson [35]
“Yes, I remember,” she said, barely getting the words out. Sharp, sensuous tingles flowing through her made her want an intense sexual encounter with him even more.
“And do you recall how I had developed a taste for a certain part of you?”
She remembered. There was no way she could ever forget. The memory had returned to her numerous times. He had been intense in his hunger, extremely greedy, almost devouring her whole.
“And if I recall,” he said, taking the tip of his tongue and caressing the underside of her ear, sending more sensuous shivers through her body, “you enjoyed it immensely. I would even go so far as to say you loved what I was doing to you.”
Yes, she had. Under the onslaught of his mouth, his very skillful tongue, she had come apart, numerous times. Each had resulted in an orgasm that had shook her to the core, splintered her in a million pieces, only for him to put her back together again to start all over.
“Yes, I loved what you did,” she said. There was no way she could lie and deny such a thing as not being true. She felt no shame in admitting what was fact. Especially now when she felt weak just thinking about it.
“I’m glad. And how would you like to experience that moment all over again? With my mouth worshipping you that way? Do you want it?”
She met his gaze. Felt the heat of his desire as his eyes burned into hers. What they had felt before was a crazy attraction that could only end one way, the way that it had. Now what she felt was intense sexual longing, propelled by an almost unbearable need. So she said the only words that she could. “Yes. I want it.”
Eight
Q uade wanted it, as well. With a vengeance. With every part of his being. And tonight, just like the other time, he would give them both extreme pleasure. A part of him didn’t want to rush anything. He had wanted to wait and not make love to her until she agreed to be his wife—until the time when she saw that he, she and their babies needed to be a family. And although their marriage wouldn’t be based on love per se, it would be based on mutual respect, admiration and desire.
But then another part, the part that was oozing with a degree of desire he could only reach with her, didn’t want to wait. This part wanted a repeat of that night in Egypt. Being around her had unleashed a host of memories he could not ignore. The fiery heat of them had burned a place into the core of his very existence.
He drew her closer to him, leaned his mouth within inches of hers and said, “Do you know how many days and nights I carried the memory of what we shared with me no matter where I went?”
“No,” she said, breathing her answer across his lips.
“Too many,” he replied in a low and deep voice, while his gaze still held hers. He reached down and took her hand in his. “And whenever I thought about how you would touch me with these hands, stroke me with the most erotic care, I could barely stand it.”
Cheyenne recalled how his body had been so responsive to her touch. Her stomach trembled at the thought that she could do that to him, make him ache with a need for her that was as intense as the one she had for him.
She felt her senses begin to overload, her desire for him kick up another notch at the same time she felt him lift her off the floor to sit her on top of the countertop.
“Have you ever done it in a kitchen before?” he asked, while leaning down to remove her shoes.
“No.”
He then straightened his tall frame and lifted a disbelieving brow. “Never?”
She lifted a disbelieving brow of her own, wondering if making love in a kitchen was some kind of fetish for him. “Why would you think I have?”
Quade smiled. “Because I can imagine you stretched out on a table as a very succulent treat.”
He reached out and tugged her top over her head, exposing a very sexy black-laced nursing bra, which he quickly dispensed of. Breasts that appeared fuller sprang forth before his eyes. He couldn’t wait any longer and gently cupped them in his hands and began lowering his head toward one firm nipple. When she offered no protest, he asked,