Wrapped In Pleasure - Brenda Jackson [118]
And then he began to move and it seemed when he began pumping in and out of her, gentle at first, she could feel every cell in her body become fragmented, and when he pulled his mouth away her whimper was one of both protest and pleasure.
“I want to look into your eyes when you come this time, Jo,” he whispered softly as he continued to thrust in and out of her, letting her feel his heat and at the same time absorb his hardness. She arched her back, lifted her hips each time he came down, went inside of her slowly, easily, penetrating her deeply. And when he pulled out, she tightened her legs around him and gripped his shoulders to make sure he returned.
He always did and the feel of him moving in and out, back and forth, sent sensuous shivers of pleasure all through her. Instinctively, her inner muscles clenched, pulled, milked, needing something from him that she knew would push them over the top as well as over the edge. With each downward thrust her body stretched for him, then automatically tightened, the rhythm inflaming her senses. He continued thrusting with slow, easy strokes and then suddenly the tempo increased and she held on.
“Ahh.”
His long and deep, satisfied growl radiated through the air surrounding them, and automatically her hips arched upward when he moved to the hilt.
And then another hoarse moan tore from his lips at the exact moment his body bucked in an explosion that triggered her own explosion.
She screamed, her control shattered, overtaken by ecstasy. The only thing that ruled her mind was pleasure, pure unadulterated pleasure, as her body shuddered with the force of her orgasm.
Her hands dug into his shoulders and when his mouth lowered to hers she knew she would love him forever. No matter what.
Chapter 11
Rasheed eased out of bed and, without bothering to put his clothes back on, strolled over to the window. He always thought the ocean looked beautiful at night but glancing back over his shoulder at the naked woman asleep in his bed on top of the covers, he quickly came to the conclusion that nothing looked as beautiful as she did at that very moment.
She had been an innocent yet, in her very own way, a natural. It seemed that Johari and everything about her had been created just for him. She had responded to him in a way no other woman had before. He had been the one who was supposed to teach her a few things and in the end, tonight, she had been the teacher and he the student.
A frown dented his brow at the memory of the exact moment he had gone inside her body, the brave look in her eyes when he had done so, the flash of pain that crossed her face, which she had tried to hide, and then the look of pleasure that had infused her features. That look had been his undoing. It had touched him in a way that even now he hadn’t recovered.
He breathed in deeply as he turned to look back out the window. His jaw tensed at the thought that, with one single act of lovemaking, Johari had stolen his soul and now at that very moment was working on his heart.
He momentarily closed his eyes against the thought of anything so foolish as that happening. His heart, he tried assuring himself, had nothing to do with it. What he’d done for the past hour or so was solely about the physical. It didn’t connect emotionally to his heart, just a certain other body part that even now was throbbing with wanting her again. But that wasn’t the point. His erection had throbbed before, several times for other women. It was a primal habit. No big deal. Nothing more than an automatic reaction to the sight of a nice and enticing piece of feminine flesh. But why was something as basic to him as sexual satisfaction, something that had never caused him pause before, something as natural as eating or sleeping, now consuming his mind?
And why was a twenty-four-year-old woman who had never been touched by a man before responsible?
He was smitten