Risky Pleasures - Brenda Jackson [72]
“But I saw it,” she said, still sobbing.
“It was only a bad dream, baby. I’m alive and here with you. Look at me.”
She slowly released him to look at him. He saw the reddened eyes, the tear-strained cheeks and the quivering lips. He brushed a kiss across those lips and then said gently. “See. I’m here.”
“But I could have lost you,” she said in a low, trembling voice. “I could have lost you, Reese.”
He heard the gut-wrenching torment in her voice and didn’t know what to say; so instead he did what came instinctively. He pulled her closer into his arms and he kissed her.
Passion such as he hadn’t felt in a long time poured out of him as he put everything that was him into that kiss. Tonight he felt connected to Leah in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time…nearly five long years. He tried remaining in control and fought the need coursing all through his body, but she was returning the kiss, stroke for stroke, mating her tongue with his as frantically and as desperately as he was mating his with hers. If being aroused could kill then he was a dead man, because he was aroused to the nth degree. His desire was potent; it felt vital to his survival, his mental and physical endurance.
He gave in when she pulled him down on the bed with her as they continued to kiss, and when she instinctively wrapped her body around his, that desperate need he’d felt earlier was clawing in him, taking everything he possessed to keep his control and sanity.
And suddenly, when he felt Leah’s hand on him, sliding up his thigh and then settling on his crotch, stroking his erection through the material of his pajama bottoms, he broke off the kiss and pulled back. He knew she was not acting rationally and was reacting to the bad dream she’d had. The last thing he wanted to do was give in to his needs and take advantage of what she was going through.
“No, Leah,” he said, pulling her hand away from him. “We have to stop.”
“No, Reese,” she said, looking at him with tortured eyes. “We have to finish. I need to know you’re okay in my own way. I need to know that I didn’t lose you.”
“But you didn’t lose me, baby. I’m okay and—”
“No! I have to do this! Please, let me. Take your bottoms off for me. Please.”
He heard the desperate plea in her voice and saw the tortured look in her eyes. He lifted his hips and removed his pajama bottoms and tossed them aside and before he could make a move to do anything else, she had pushed him back in the bed and was straddling him.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying not to notice how the T-shirt she was wearing had ridden up nearly to her waist, giving him a delectable view of her nakedness, especially of her feminine mound. He sucked in an even deeper breath when she took hold of his erection and began stroking it before shifting her body to bear down on him, lowering her own body to his. “Leah! Wait!”
She stubbornly shook her head, letting him know there was no waiting. She wanted to be a part of him now. She needed the connection. He needed the connection, as well, but willed his body to remain still and to let her have her way with him.
He discovered moments later that remaining still wouldn’t be easy when she eased all the way down on him, slowly, while staring deep into his eyes. Her body was tight, and at one point it was like making love to a virgin all over again. But she refused to stop and as she continued to sink deeper, he felt her inner muscles clench him.
“Leah!”
He called her name when she began easing up and down on him, slowly at first and then in a faster rhythm. She was tearing at his sanity, his hold of his senses and his control. The look he saw in her eyes was stunned, filled with a profound need, and the movements she made on top of him reflected that. When he saw that lying still was no longer an option, he nearly lifted his hips off the bed to thrust upward into her at