She tore her eyes away and looked up, going weak in the knees when she saw the raw fire of passion burning his own cheeks as he watched not what his hands were doing, but her face. Then, with his eyes locked on hers, he wrapped an arm under her breasts and turned her to face him, lifting her up until she was sitting on the counter.
“Touch me,” he whispered, settling his hips between her thighs. He took hold of her hands and lifted them to his chest, then reached down and took hold of her hips. “Just touch me.”
Winter was amazed, and rather intrigued, to feel his muscles quivering beneath her hands. But even more amazing was the discovery that watching her fingers run over his downy-furred chest made her own body tremble with an energy that seemed to gather deep in the pit of her stomach.
“Aye,” he whispered, his hands on her hips tightening. “Never underestimate the power of sight, lass, when coupled with touch. Ye want to bring a man to his knees, just let him see the desire in yer eyes.”
She leaned in and kissed his chest, just above one nipple, then let her lips trail down until she covered it completely and gently suckled.
He pulled her hips against the solid evidence of her effect on him, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her breasts against his chest with a groan as he tugged on her hair to lift her face for his kiss. His mouth stole her breath as the heat of his body assaulted her senses. She wiggled closer, feeling the tip of his arousal intimately pushing against the moist heat of her desire.
His arms tightened, lifting her off the counter just enough so she could wrap her legs around his waist as he carefully and so maddeningly lowered her over him. Winter felt herself stretching, molding around him, the sensation so intense she moaned in pleasure.
He quickly captured the sound with his mouth and his own responding growl. He turned then, pressing her shoulders against the opposite wall. He moved his hips upward, then back slightly, then upward again, his hands on her hips holding her secure for each erotic thrust. Winter gripped his hair, her elbows on his shoulders steadying her as sensation after sensation rocketed through her.
He tore his mouth free and buried his face in her neck. “Look in the mirror,” he growled.
“Watch us.”
Winter opened her eyes and looked, only to gasp at the sight of her tiny white legs wrapped around his tanned body as his firm buttocks moved against her, the muscles of his back rippling with controlled strength.
She lost all sense of herself then, transported into a world of surreal sensations as she continued to watch their intimate dance. Charges of energy swirled around them as spectrums of vivid colors gathered in a tightening vortex that suddenly exploded into pure white light.
Winter closed her eyes on a scream that was quickly captured by her husband’s mouth as his own shout of pleasure resonated through her with the force of an earthquake. He suddenly stopped moving, the pulse of his pleasure exploding against her own clenching spasms.
She had to tear her mouth free to gulp for air, but before she caught her breath she felt herself moving and could only cling to Matt’s shoulders. She moaned at the feel of him still inside her, still hard, as his strides drove him even deeper. He stepped into the shower with her wrapped around him, spun the faucet, and quickly turned to protect her from the first burst of cold spray.
She couldn’t imagine where he got the strength to function, much less continue to hold her. But in the next second all manner of thought eluded Winter, as Matt pressed her against the shower’s back wall and began moving inside her again.
Their erotic dance was slightly less urgent this time, as he pulled nearly out and slowly eased deeply inside her again. She clung to his shoulders as he leaned away, and stared into his eyes as she felt the sensitive tips of her breasts move against the soft hairs on his chest. And then Matt reached down between them, and with his eyes locked firmly on hers, touched her most intimately.
Winter tried to keep looking at him, to watch his expressive golden eyes watching her, but her lids dropped with her moan of surrender as he skillfully worked his magic. She felt herself tightening around him again, felt the returning vortex contract with building energy—which suddenly released with another burst of sizzling white light.
Winter captured her own scream this time by pressing her mouth into Matt’s shoulder as pulse after pleasurable pulse wracked her body. She went limp as a noodle, not even caring if Matt had the strength to carry her full weight. Heck, if he did drop her, she’d just slither like melted butter down the shower drain.
“And that, wife,” he whispered raggedly against her mist-dampened hair, “is the quickest way to drive me mad.”
“You didn’t warn me that I’d be doing myself in at the same time,” she muttered into his shoulder. She didn’t know where she found the strength, but she leaned back to look at him, and even managed to smile. “That was decadent,” she said with a shake of her head. “In my wildest dreams, I never once thought about doing it in front of a mirror and actually watching. You’re a—”
He stepped back into the spray of the shower, forcing Winter to snap her mouth shut before she drowned. “No name-calling,” he said, slowly lowering her feet to the floor and holding her until she was steady. “Gather your hair and hold it up to stay dry.”
She did as he said, turning her back on the spray, only to yelp when she felt Matt’s soapy hands slide up her ribs. “Shhh,” he said, lathering her up—quite thoroughly—his fingers gliding over every inch of her body. Winter closed her eyes and fought down the blush heating her face, but then suddenly smiled, realizing that surely she was expected to return the favor.
Chapter Twenty-two
I t didn’t happen very often,but every once in a while the universe somehow managed to surprise him. This time, however, Matt felt as if he’d been totally blind-sided.
Pendaär’s heir wasn’t anything like he’d expected when he’d made his plans to seduce Winter MacKeage. To begin with, she was more beautiful than he was prepared to deal with, and vivacious and vexing and vibrantly sexy. She was also more stubborn than he cared for, and far more intelligent than he needed her to be. She was willful and spoiled and self-confident, and simply too damned optimistic for his liking.
And then there was the fact that she had come up with her own way to help Kenzie, which Matt feared was headed on a collision course with his own carefully devised plans. She seemed far too confident that she could not only grant his brother’s wish, but somehow save mankind while she was at it.
Oh yes, she was definitely more optimistic than Matt liked, and he was afraid that when she failed she would be devastated.
And for some reason, the thought of Winter being devastated was more than even his cold, dead heart could handle.
Matt kept his eyes closed to mere slits as he watched his once-again scheming wife come sneaking out of the bathroom while leaving the light on and the door cracked so she could see well enough to rummage through his clothes. It wasn’t quite four in the morning, a good two hours before sunrise, but Winter was fully dressed in outdoor attire, her hair neatly braided and carrying her boots in her hand. While she’d been quietly dressing in the bathroom, Matt had gotten up and thrown on the spare set of clothes he’d brought from the hotel, and was himself fully dressed under the covers.
He watched with curious patience, trying not to notice how cute her backside was when she bent over, as she finally had to set down her boots to find what she was looking for. Matt knew he’d guessed right when she straightened holding his fountain pen and her sketch pencil. She turned just enough for the light to shine on her prizes, and Matt stifled a smile as he watched her examine his pen.
She finally held it up next to her pencil, seemingly comparing the two, and frowned as she suddenly gave them both a violent shake. When nothing happened other than ink spurting all over her hand, she tucked the pencil in her jacket pocket, replaced his messy pen back in his own jacket, and straightened back up holding her boots. She tiptoed to the bedroom door, carefully pulled the chair free that he’d propped under the knob, and opened the door and peeked into the hall.