lit up.
"Yes?"
"Do you trust me?"
Trust him? She was falling utterly in love with him. Of course she trusted him. She was terrified of admitting it, though.
"That's not a rule."
He wouldn't let her dodge the question, and when she tried to distract him by pressing against his groin and kissing him, he
shook his head. "I already know the answer, but I want… no, I need to hear you say the words."
"You are the most opinionated, obstinate, exasperating man I've ever known, but almost from the moment we met, I felt this strange connection. It's as though I've waited all my life to feel so safe… and free. I can't explain it," she whispered.
He tilted her chin up, brushed his mouth over hers, and then whispered, "Then trust me. That's my rule. You have to trust me."
She thought she understood what he was asking. And he was right. Love and trust went hand in hand.
It was now or never. Please, God, don't let him be repulsed. She stepped back into the soft light from the bedside lamp, waited until he had let go of her, and then, before her courage completely deserted her, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and tossed
it on the floor. She turned so that he could see her ravaged back.
Most of the damage had been done to her lower spine. The angry, ugly scars puckered her skin. She was afraid to turn around,
to look into his eyes.
"Sugar?"
There was laughter in his voice. Confused by his reaction, she stood as stiff as a corpse with her hands at her sides, staring at
the wall.
"Yes?" she whispered.
He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm a little more interested in the front right now."
"What…"
He gently turned her around and pulled her up against him. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, "Damn, I've been dreaming about this. It's better than the dream, though. Much better."
"But my back… You saw…"
"We'll get to that," he promised. "I've got a lot of territory to cover," he whispered as he kissed a tear away from her cheek.
"But in my present condition, I've gotta prioritize."
Before she could argue, or worry, or cry, his mouth took absolute possession of hers in a kiss that was sinfully carnal. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth in a ritual of lovemaking until she was trembling with desire.
His hands were everywhere, caressing, stroking, teasing, as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. He rid her of her inhibitions, and she eagerly kissed him back. She stroked his chest, loving the feel of his coarse, dark hair under her fingertips.
He growled low in his throat with pleasure when she tweaked one of his nipples between her fingertips, and so she did it again.
They were both panting for breath when he ended the kiss and stepped back. He let his shorts drop to the floor, staring into her eyes, reveling in the passion he saw there.
Avery held his gaze as she slid her hand down to remove her panties. The look of surprise when she realized they were on the floor made him smile over his handiwork.
She let him have his moment. "You're good," she whispered shakily.
He followed her onto the bed. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he leaned up and said, "You haven't seen anything yet."
His face was taut with passion. The way he was looking at her made her feel bold. "Neither have you," she whispered back. She moved restlessly against him, her hands slowly easing down his sides. His body was as hot as his gaze.
John Paul loved the way she touched him. Hell, he loved everything about her. She made him crazy. She pulled him down for another kiss, and this time he let her be the aggressor. Their tongues dueled as their hands learned the secrets of each other's bodies.
When she touched his erection, he thought he might just lose it then and there, and he tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn't. He could barely breathe because of the ecstasy she evoked. His hand slipped down between her thighs, his fingers caressing her intimately until she arched off the bed and cried out.
He held off as long as he could until he was desperate to be inside of her. He hungrily kissed her soft, sweet mouth as his knee nudged her thighs apart. Gripping her derriere, he leaned up so that he could watch her. In one slow push, he entered her, then plunged deep.
She arched up against him at the same time, crying out in rapture as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and squeezed him tight.
Capturing the sides of her face with his hands, his mouth covered hers and his tongue sank into her warm sweet mouth. He took his time. Long, slow thrusts that cost him dearly. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, and as he made love to her, he realized
it had never been this incredible before. Never.
Avery was overwhelmed by the sensations rushing through her. They were so intense, so new. She couldn't let him slow the
pace any longer. She came undone in his arms, wild, more demanding, her nails scoring his shoulders as she met his thrusts with equal passion.
Driven to please her and give her fulfillment before he claimed his own, he tried to slow down, but she would have none of it. Their lovemaking turned uncontrolled, primitive, almost savage. He was consumed.
Avery could feel her control vanishing, but she wasn't afraid. It was the most amazing feeling to be so uninhibited and to let
herself go without fear or worry. She knew she was safe in his arms, and as she reached the precipice and her body began to shiver for release, she arched up against him. Wave after wave of undiluted pleasure coursed through her body as she clung to him.
Impossible to hold back, his orgasm was triggered by hers, and he climaxed deep inside of her, clenching his jaw in ecstasy.
They stayed joined together as one for long, blissful minutes. Their breathing was ragged, and neither one of them had the
strength to move. Their hearts pounded in unison. He buried his face in her silky hair, closed his eyes as he inhaled her
wonderful fragrance.
"Damn," he whispered. She'd taken every ounce of his strength. His bones felt like liquid as he tried to move so he wouldn't
crush her.
She obviously didn't mind his weight because she squeezed him when he shifted his position, and whispered, "Not yet."
Had he been too rough with her? The thought popped into his head and anchored there. He could have been more gentle, but
she'd been so wonderfully uninhibited, he'd gone a little crazy.
"Avery? You okay?"
She smiled because of the worry she heard in his voice. And then she whispered, "So that's what all the fuss was about."
And then she laughed with such delight, he smiled in spite of his exhaustion.
With a sigh, he rolled away, then got up and went into the bathroom.
She pulled the sheet up, adjusted her pillow, and fell back. She was still a little overwhelmed by what she had just experienced. Sex, she decided, sex with John Paul anyway, could definitely become addictive.
The bed springs groaned when John Paul stretched out beside her. She opened her eyes and smiled. He looked so arrogantly proud of himself. He was on his side with his head propped up staring at her.
She looked thoroughly ravaged. Passion lingered in her eyes, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.
She knew she'd satisfied him, but she still needed him to tell her so. Silly how she could feel so powerful a minute ago and now
the old insecurities were creeping back. No, she hadn't disappointed him. Why wasn't he telling her so?
He could see it happening. In her eyes. They were clouded. He didn't think she was regretting anything… just worried maybe.
He knew he'd guessed right when she said, "What are you thinking?"