This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [117]
She tremblingly traced the powerful lines of his chest, being careful to avoid his wounds, aware of that fast, deep heartbeat, hearing it accelerate as her fingers stroked the short black hair curling from his brown skin. Leaning her face against him, she let her lips drift down his body, the taste of warm, moist skin on her tongue and in her mouth. His body quivered and she became aware of the movement of his thigh against her. The heat of their bodies had become explosive, and she stopped her stroking hands.
“Don’t stop!” His voice was muffled as his lips probed her warm white breast, and Summer felt herself shuddering as she faced a decision.
“We must! Darling, we must stop! Jack and . . . Bulldog. . . .”
For a moment, he lay still, breathing in rough gasps, his body seemed to shiver, then he drew back his head and smiled into her eyes. Wild, sweet hunger caused them to move together and their mouths clung in a long kiss. It was a while before either of them was calm enough to talk again.
“You’re sure there’s something there? Something of you and me?” Slater’s bandaged hand gently nudged her flat stomach.
She laughed. It was so wonderful to laugh.
“I’m sure. Of course I’m sure. A few days ago, I hated the poor little thing. Now, I love it.”
“Not more than me?” His lips were against her face, his tone anxious.
“Never more than you, darling.” She slipped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “I adored you when I was a little girl and I still do. You’re my everything—my heart, my soul, my life. I love you beyond everything else in the world.”
His lips crushed hers hungrily. “I want to love you! Dear God, how I want to love you! These damn hands . . . it’ll be so long. . . .”
“Not so long, darling,” she whispered. “Only until tomorrow, when you fetch me home like you promised so long ago.” She punctuated her words with soft, nibbling kisses. “We’ll manage. You’ll see. We’ll manage just fine.”