The Men of Medicine Ridge - Diana Palmer [63]
She was reaching for some incredibly sweet peak of pleasure. It was there, it was…there. If only she could find the right position, the right movement, the right…yes! She lifted to him in an arch, gasping.
“There?” he whispered. “All right. Here we go. Don’t fight it…don’t fight it…don’t…Natalie!”
His voice throbbed like her body, like the pulse that was beating in her eyes, her brain, her body, a heat that was as close to pain as it was to pleasure. And all at once, it became an unbearably wonderful tension that pulled and pulled and suddenly snapped, throwing her against him in an agony of pleasure. She shivered and felt him shiver as they clung together in the most delicious ecstasy she’d ever experienced in her life.
She heard his voice at her ear, harsh and deep, as his body clenched one last time and finally relaxed, pressing her into the mattress with the weight of him. Her arms curled around his long back and her eyes closed and she smiled, achingly content as she held him like that, heavy and damp and warm, vulnerable in his satiation, on her heart.
All too soon, he leaned up, his gaze holding on her rapt face. He smiled gently. “Well?”
She knew what he was asking. She smiled shyly and hid her face in his warm, damp throat.
He rolled over, still joined to her, holding her close. “How’s the rib cage?”
“It’s fine,” she whispered.
“And what do you think about lovemaking, Mrs. Killain?” he whispered wickedly.
“I think it’s wonderful,” she blurted. “I never would have believed it could be so sweet. And I was afraid!” she added, laughing.
“I noticed.” He kissed her nose. “Are you ready for a shock?”
She looked at him, puzzled. “A shock?”
“Uh-huh.”
While she was trying to work it out, he lifted her away from him, and she looked down. Her face went scarlet.
“Now you know, don’t you?” he asked with a worldly wisdom she couldn’t match. He put her down and got out of bed, magnificently naked and not a bit inhibited. He went to the small icebox and pulled out a bottle of beer, which he took to bed, sprawling on top of the sheets against the headboard.
“Come on,” he coaxed, opening his arm to gather her beside him. “You’ll get used to it. Marriage is an adventure. You have to expect startling discoveries.”
“This is one,” she murmured, still shy of him like this.
He chuckled. “I’m just flesh and blood. The mystery will get less mysterious as we go along. We’re through the worst of the honeymoon shocks, though.”
“Think so?” she mused. “You haven’t seen me with my hair in curlers and no makeup yet.”
He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re beautiful to me. It won’t matter what you wear. Or how you look. I love you. Now more than ever.”
He opened the beer and took a sip, putting the bottle to her lips. She made a face.
“It isn’t good beer,” he agreed. “But it’s cold and good for the sort of thirst we’ve worked up.” He took another sip and let his eyes run down the length of her soft body, lingering on the places he’d touched and kissed until she flushed. “You really are a knockout,” he murmured. “I knew you were nicely shaped, Mrs. Killain, but you’re more than I ever expected.”
“That goes for me, too,” she said.
He kissed her lips tenderly. “Feel like doing that again?” he whispered. “Or is it going to be uncomfortable?”
She rolled onto her side and slid one of her legs to the inside of his. “It won’t be uncomfortable,” she whispered. She rubbed her body against him and felt him tense with a sense of pride and accomplishment. “I want you.”
The beer bottle barely made it to the table without overturning as he pulled her to him and kissed her with renewed passion. He really shouldn’t have been capable of this much desire this soon, but he wasn’t going to question