The Men of Medicine Ridge - Diana Palmer [36]
She didn’t hear him approach, because the thick carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps. But she felt him at her back, felt the heat of his powerful body as both arms went past her to the door. He moved deliberately close, so that his body made contact with hers from her shoulders to her thighs. The contours of his body changed instantly, and she knew, even in her innocence, that what they shared was something rare.
“And now you know why I put you away so quickly that night, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
She swallowed, her body involuntarily responding to his need by arching toward him. “Yes. I do now.”
His hands slid to her flat belly and pulled her closer to him.
“You felt this way all those years ago?” she said, realizing.
“Yes.” His hands smoothed to her rib cage and hesitated. “I accumulated a fair share of experience when I was younger,” he continued. “But in recent years, sex has become a more serious matter to me. I’ve gone hungry. You were innocent and curious, and I almost lost control with you. I didn’t feel comfortable letting you see how tempted I was—especially under the circumstances.”
“I’m still innocent,” she reminded him without turning.
“And just as curious,” he concluded for her. His hands flattened over her rib cage and became possessive. “But tonight, I’m going to satisfy your curiosity. Completely.” And he turned her around.
Chapter 7
Natalie caught her breath at the look on Mack’s face. The naked hunger in that one beautiful dark eye was almost frightening.
His big, lean hands framed her face as he searched her eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said softly. “I’d cut off my arm before I’d ever hurt you.”
“I know that.” She studied him worriedly. “But I can’t—”
His lips caught the words and stopped them. She felt his hands drop to her throat and then to her shoulders, smoothing up and down the skin left bare by her short-sleeve sweater. He was slow and tender and sensual. It was like a dance in slow motion, a poem, a symphony.
The door was hard at her back as he moved closer, trapping her between his body and the wood. One long leg inserted itself confidently between both of hers with a lazy movement that was as arousing as the kiss they were sharing.
She gasped, and his mouth lifted away. He looked at her, breathing a little jerkily. “This is perfectly natural,” he said quietly. “Don’t fight it.”
Her eyes were wild and a little frightened by the overwhelming desire she felt. “You went away…with Glenna,” she whispered.
“She went on the plane,” he corrected. “She didn’t go with me.” His mouth traced her eyelids and closed them. His hands were under her arms, lifting her closer. They moved slowly, gently, onto her breasts and caressed them with lazy delight.
She felt her legs go weak underneath her. It was unlike any other time she’d been in his arms. He handled her as if she belonged to him, as if she were precious to him, cherished by him.
Her eyes opened when he lifted his head, and they were full of wonder, wide with breathless hunger and delight. Her heart was in them.
He searched them quietly, and a faint smile touched his hard mouth. “I’ve waited years for that expression,” he said under his breath. “Years.”
He bent again, and this time her arms lifted slowly around his neck, cradling his head as his mouth covered her parted lips. They clung to each other, letting the kiss build, feeling its power. She moaned when it became fierce and hungry, but she didn’t try to get away. Involuntarily, her body pressed hard against his.
She felt him shiver. He pushed down, his hands lifting her suddenly into the hard thrust of him and holding her there with a slow, sensual rhythm that made her tremble and gasp into his mouth.
“Sweetheart!” he whispered roughly.
The kiss grew harder. She felt him move and lift her clear off the floor in his arms. He walked to the sofa and spread her lengthwise on the leather,