He'd never trusted himself with passion before. In fact, Wyatt had worked for decades to cut it from his life, from his personality. His previous sexual affairs had been physically satisfying, but, always, a part of him had remained detached. Removed from what he was doing.
With Lily, he not only wanted to be with her; he felt almost desperate to be, overwhelmed with the need to taste and touch and have and take.
There were a thousand good reasons for walking away. But he'd sooner cut off his own legs than do it.
"You're sure?" he asked, sliding his hands into her hair, fingering the short, silky strands.
"Never more sure," she admitted. She kissed his throat again, sliding her tongue delicately in the hollow, then kissing her way to the pulse point beneath his ear. "I want you, Wyatt. I want to touch you and be with you, want you to drive every thought out of my head except how good your hand feels on my hip and your mouth feels on my thigh." She pressed closer, the puckered tips of her breasts scraping against his chest, wanting him to know that her heavy, sexy whispers were affecting her as much as they were him. "I want you to bury me with sensuality, not with conversation. Fill my body, not my ears. Take me and give to me and satisfy me until I am so physically pleasured I can't even remember what pain feels like."
She meant it, each and every word. He knew it without doubt.
Her words and her nearness seduced. But the slight catch in her voice as she revealed the very deepest part of her need-the need for sexual connection to drive away the darkness-grabbed at his heart and twisted it hard.
Right now, he would do anything for her, to her, or with her. Whatever she wanted, whatever she would offer, he would give it and take it and gladly. Then he'd do it again, and again, for as long as he had strength in his body. He opened his mouth to tell her so, to give up all resistance and admit she had cut the very foundation out from under him, not with her demands, but with her raw, honest want.
But showing her was so much easier.
Staring up at him, Lily knew the moment Wyatt gave up all objection and acknowledged what she had known for so long. That they were meant to be together. Lovers. Whether they would be long-term ones or would have only this night, she couldn't say. Because of that, she intended to make this night as unforgettable as she could.
He wrapped one strong arm around her shoulders, another around her waist. Pulling her closer, Wyatt hauled her up a little so all her curves melted against the angles of his body, breast to hard chest, thigh to thigh. The feel of his rigid erection against the vulnerable hollow below her belly button sucked at her strength and she sagged harder against him.
"I've had so many nightmares," she admitted in a whisper, "but there have been some good dreams as well, and every one of them was about this."
He lowered his mouth to hers, their lips parting instantly, tongues sliding together in deep, hungry tastes. The ravenous kiss continuing, she sighed in pleasure when he bent to pick her up, cradling her in his arms. She wrapped hers around his neck, knowing that tonight he carried her not with tender, protective care but with driving need.
Instead of carrying her to the guest room bed, he turned and walked out the door, heading down the short hallway to his room. He didn't let the kiss end when they reached the bed. He placed her there, and followed her down onto it. No longer holding her, he was free to run his hands over her cheeks, her neck. He filled one palm with the curve of her shoulder, then traced his fingertips over her collarbone until she drew back from his kiss just so she could beg him for more. "Don't go slow," she ordered. "Don't make me wait anymore."
She reached for the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping them free as fast as she could, finally yanking at them when they resisted. He let her push it off him, and tossed it out of the way, each movement emphasizing the thickness of his arms and the breadth of his shoulders. He was incredibly solid, toned, and perfectly defined with rippling muscle.
She wriggled beneath him. "Take the rest off."
Though she had been talking about his clothes, he reached for her shirt. That'd do.
As he tugged the T-shirt up and off, those strong hands worked magic on her body. Every touch aroused all her senses. Each tender caress made the skin just beyond his fingertips throb in anticipation of being the next place he visited. Her limbs shook, her breasts grew taut and heavy, her nipples tight. She arched toward his hands, not wanting soft and tender, needing it a little fast, and a whole lot wild.
He knew. With a groan, he moved his mouth to her throat and his hand to her breast, cupping its weight, sliding his fingertips across her nipple.
"Yes," she hissed, writhing beneath him. When he replaced his hand with his mouth and sucked her nipple, hard, she rose off the bed with a groan. "God, yes."
Even as he kept sucking her to new heights of pleasure, he managed to unfasten his pants and shove them out of the way. Lily wriggled beneath him. Now only her skimpy underwear separated their naked bodies, but he didn't immediately tear them oft She taunted them both, heightening the tension by rubbing against his massive erection, gaining immense pleasure from the press of his thick heat against her sensitized clit.
"It's been so long," she groaned. She didn't just mean sex. It had seemed like a lifetime since she'd felt the intense spiral of pleasure, building, taking her higher toward the orgasm she desperately needed. She rocked against him, greedily taking more of those thrilling sensations, using him, though she knew he didn't mind. Judging by the way he watched her with dark, hungry eyes, she knew he didn't mind one damn bit.
"Wyatt," she cried, feeling the climax rise higher. He returned to her breast, sucking deep even as he ground against her, giving her the pressure where she most needed it. And the waves of pleasure lifted her that last little bit, making her quake. She gave herself over to it, barely even able to remember to breathe as she was racked by deep waves of delight.
As if seeing her reach that point had robbed him of his very last remnants of control, Wyatt reached for her underwear and tore them off her. But before he moved between her thighs, he reached into a bedside-table drawer and grabbed a condom. Watching him put it on, Lily arched up for him, wanting him inside her even before the last throbbing sensation ended. "Now, Wyatt, please."
"Yes, now," he murmured, then drove hard, plunging to the hilt, stretching and filling her completely. Shockingly, another orgasm rocked her instantly, and this time, she didn't just cry out-she gave a little scream.
"Good Lord, Lily," he whispered. He threw his head back, his face set in lines of intense concentration, as if the rhythmic spasms of her body were almost enough to pull him into an explosion of his own. But he seemed to gain control by pressing his mouth against her hair, the top of her damaged ear, then the side of her neck. He kissed her over and over, remaining deep inside her, filling her completely. But it seemed like forever before he trusted himself to move.
Then, finally, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her again. Their tongues mated, their breaths joined, and he began to stroke her, sliding out, easing back in, in a careful, easy rhythm. It had been so long since she'd been with anyone, and she'd certainly never been with him, yet she found herself immediately matching his every move. She took when he thrust; she released when he pulled away. Slow at first, then faster, deeper, wilder.
Wild, yes, but still so infinitely tender and loving, she found tears welling up in her eyes. Feeling so good had never felt so lovely as well.