He could see he was going to have to get sneaky if he wanted to survive this day. She wasn’t listening to him; she was too far gone with passion. He untangled himself from her arms and lifted them over her head again so that he could lean back and give her his warmest smile.
“Hold your hands there a minute, lass,” he told her, slowly releasing them to see if she obeyed.
Frustration and curiosity warred in her expression, but she did as he asked. “Good girl,” he said, quickly undoing what buttons remained on his shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it on the floor, relishing the waft of air that ran over the sweat on his back, cooling him off enough to let him think straight again.
Grace’s gaze widened, and her curiosity quickly turned to admiration as she stared at him with eyes as dark and as deep as Pine Lake in the midst of a storm. She stretched, purring like a cat about to devour a mouse, and folded her hands behind her head in contentment.
Well, this mouse intended to get in a few good licks of his own before he was eaten.
Grey made short work of his socks and his heavy belt, his hands automatically going next to the snap on his pants. He stopped suddenly, thinking better of it. Not yet. Not until he could trust himself.
Her lower lip came out when she realized he wasn’t taking off any more clothes. Her hands came from behind her head, reaching for his chest.
“Oh, no,” he said, grabbing her wrists again just as her nails lightly raked over his skin. He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and prayed for strength.
He was a ball of sweat now, actually shaking with the need to possess her. Lord, but he wanted to sink into the softness she was offering.
“You’re next,” he said, letting her go and quickly grabbing the hem of her sweater. He didn’t know if she was squirming to help him or if she just couldn’t lie still. He pulled the sweater over her head, at the same time lying over her again, bringing their chests together.
As soon as her face was exposed, he kissed her, capturing her gasp of pleasure. He continued to work the sweater up her arms—but not all the way off. Grace continued to kiss him demandingly, rubbing her pebble-hard nipples against his chest, wrapping her legs around him, and digging her heels into his thighs, using her tongue to lay a scent of her taste all through his mouth.
Sweat broke out on his forehead.
Blindly, and quite desperately now, Grey moved the body of her sweater over the arm of the couch, pushing until it locked firmly into place.
He lifted himself up on his elbows and brushed the hair from her face. “Do you remember what happened yesterday at the summit house?” he asked, his voice heavy with need.
Her eyes clouded with confusion and a bit of impatience. “We made love,” she said in a husky voice, lifting her face to kiss him again.
He leaned further back and shook his head. “Nay, lass, we didn’t. That was not lovemaking we shared.
That was a claiming.”
Her confusion grew, her face darkened.
“It wasn’t even sex, Grace,” he continued, after giving her a quick kiss on her nose. “When I broke through your maidenhead and then gave you my seed, I was claiming you as mine.” And, he continued quickly when she started to speak, “when you gave yourself up to me and placed that red badge of your innocence on my thigh, you claimed me as yours.”
She suddenly had nothing to say to him. He kissed her again, on the cheek this time, letting his mouth linger as he felt a shudder go through her.
“Tonight we make love, Grace,” he said into her ear, keeping his cheek on hers. “This time you’ll find your woman’s pleasure.”
Her entire body shivered beneath him, sending a ripple of electricity firing through his muscles, making the blood rush to his groin.
He began by kissing her forehead, her eyebrows, then her eyes as she closed them on a moan of pleasure. He worked his mouth in a path down her face, stopping at her lips for a deeper taste of her sweetness. He moved on to her chin, her throat, the base of her neck.
“Wait. My hands are caught,” she said, tugging to lower her arms. “I can’t get them out of my sleeves.”
He looked up and gave her a feral grin. “Aye. You are caught, Grace. And you’ll be staying caught,” he said, grinning at her dumbfounded expression.
She tugged harder, her face getting red with outrage. “You did this on purpose?”
He nodded again. “Aye.”
“Untie me.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry if you’re offended, Grace. But honest to God, woman, I won’t even get inside you if I feel your hands on me right now. Stop fighting,” he said, continuing his mouth’s journey down her body. “Stop thinking. Just feel what our bodies do to each other.”
Her reply turned into a moan of surprise when his hands unclasped the front of her bra and he kissed the exposed skin between her breasts. He assaulted much more than her body then; he battered her senses with his lips, his hands, with words meant to inflame her heart. She forgot her fight for freedom, giving herself over to the passion he awakened on every inch of her body. He stripped off her pants, socks, and panties, slowly exposing her beauty, telling her just what he thought of her, what he wanted to do to her.
And then he backed up his words with action. Grey started where he’d left off, kissing her breasts again before moving further down her body, dipping his tongue into her feminine, dimpled belly button, raking his teeth lightly over her hipbone. She nearly bucked them both off the couch when he settled a kiss on the inside of her thigh, her gasp of excited wonder echoing through the silent house.
With his head lifted only enough to see the expression on her face, Grey kissed her more intimately then, his tongue darting out to caress her womanhood. She keened from deep in her throat, throwing her head back and arching her hips to meet his mouth, a shudder of pleasure raking her body, sending a hum of energy coursing through his own body.
Her thighs fiercely hugged his shoulders, her muscles slowly coiled, straining for release. He felt it then, her woman’s pleasure, arching through her body in waves of rippling awareness.
She screamed his name.
Grey was shaking with impatient desire when he settled himself between her thighs and finally gave into his need to feel her wrapped around him.
“Now, Grace,” he said, freeing her arms from her sweater. “Put your hands on me now. Touch me.”
He needn’t have asked. She was reaching up to him, pulling him down to her, lifting her hips to his. The wild-fire in her eyes was burning out of control, every inch of her skin flushed with excitement. Now free, she touched him everywhere she could reach.
Grey moved into her until he filled her completely. She shouted again, bucking against him as she stared into his eyes and continued to repeat his name in husky whispers.
He felt her tighten around him, and then suddenly Grace convulsed in a second pattern of resonating pleasure. She triggered his own tidal wave, and with his gaze locked with hers, her name caught in his throat, Grey held Grace by the hips as he traveled over the edge with her into the world of passion fulfilled.
And he stayed there with her, suspended until he was empty of everything—except for one lingering thought.
He hadn’t moved once he was inside her.
Grey collapsed on top of Grace with all the elegance of a beaten dog. He hadn’t moved. Not even so much as one gentle stroke, one lengthy caress, one simple push of his hips. He had felt her heat, the ripple of her woman’s pleasure, and he’d lost his grip on reality.
Like a lad on his first time out.
Grey lifted himself to his elbows and watched, fascinated, as Grace took in a sudden gasp of air and started coughing. Her movements nearly sent him sliding off her sweat-drenched body. He adjusted their positions so that Grace lay on top of him, so she could continue to breathe and he could continue to hold her.
“Don’t ever do that again, MacKeage,” she told him raggedly, her eyes closed and her head tucked up against his throat.