“Like that?” he asked.
“Yes. Touch me.”
He circled her nipples, then used the pad of his thumb to skim across each taut bud, lingering at the piercings there, sending her into shivers of delight as he gently tugged the silver rings. She let out a whimper of pleasured response, gritting her teeth when he cupped her breasts and squeezed oh, so tenderly, circling her nipple with his thumb. She gasped at the exquisite sensations, made even more so when he bent his head and captured her other nipple in his mouth, sucking it hard.
She nearly came off the bed, arching upward against him. How could something feel so good? How could he know just what she needed? He rolled his tongue over the piercings at each nipple, which shot pulses of ecstasy to her core until she was mindless with pleasure, all the while rocking against her sex with his shaft until she was drenched with need for him, already so close to completion her body throbbed with it.
Dalton shifted, dropping down beside her to claim her lips again in a potent kiss. She shuddered at the sensual power he had over her, like a drug that made everything hazy. Every nerve ending was alive, everywhere he touched sent her closer and closer to the edge. And when his hand drifted down her belly to cup her sex, slowly massaging the ache inside her that had built to a crescendo, she tensed and whimpered against his mouth.
He lifted his head, looked at her. “Let go, Isabelle.”
She did, gasping as she climaxed, letting him see everything, feel everything as she rocked against his hand. He gave her no time to come down from the high, just positioned himself over her while she was still in the throes of these amazing aftershocks, and slid inside her with a powerful thrust.
And oh, it was just what she craved-this possession, this demanding man giving her what she’d wanted from him for so long. He slid one hand underneath her buttocks, lifting her up so her pelvis met his, so he could drive deeper inside her.
Isabelle wrapped her legs around him and held tight, smoothing her hands over the sweat-slickened muscles of his back, memorizing every part of his skin she could touch as he rocked against her, inside her, one with her.
She felt power inside Dalton, and it matched the power inside herself-the part of herself she was afraid to set free.
“Let it out,” he said, lifting up on his arms to stare down at her face.
She gasped at the look of intensity, the darkness in his eyes, which almost seemed to glow with feral, animalist hunger. It should frighten her. Instead, it aroused her.
“Let it go, Isabelle. Let me have it.”
She knew what he asked for, the part of herself she’d tried to hide. The intensity, the emotion, the deepest part of herself that she’d held locked up. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t.”
He lifted against her and she could feel herself coming apart again.
“Trust me,” he whispered, bending down to brush his lips against hers. “I’ll never hurt you.”
She believed him. God help her, she believed him. And she would give him everything. Her heart, her soul, all that she was.
She swept her hand across his cheek.
“It’s yours,” she said. “Take it.”
With a low growl he thrust hard, retreated, powered forward again until she released all she’d held inside. She arched her back as the force of her climax crashed within her, dragged her nails down his arms as she came apart around him. His guttural cry told her that he gave her all he had, too, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
It was like a white light shone around him, nearly blinding her, yet she couldn’t close her eyes against such beauty, not when it catapulted her into a place she’d never been before, a place she never hoped to capture.
Shaken, spent, Dalton collapsed on top of her and she wrapped herself around him, wondering what she had just seen. Imaginings in the throes of passion, or something else? She was almost afraid to ask, didn’t want to do or say anything to disrupt this idyllic moment.
It had to have been a figment of her imagination. She probably just had way too many synapses firing.
A pleasure overload, that’s what it had been. She’d been so caught in the moment, the sensations, the intensity of everything she’d felt with him. Because there’s no way Dalton would have a white glow surrounding him. No way.
He rolled off her and pulled her against him so they faced each other. He swept her hair away from her face, his gaze penetrating.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She smiled, slid her hand along his beard-stubbled jaw. “I’m great.”
“Yeah, you sure were.”
She laughed. “Thanks. So were you. I can’t remember sex being quite so … intense.”
He arched a brow and swept his hand along her collarbone. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You do that.”
She nestled her head against his shoulder, utterly exhausted. But a part of her wanted to mention what she’d seen, and that kept her from falling immediately to sleep. Besides, sleep meant demons, anyway, and she was content to just lie here with Dalton for a while.
“You’re restless.”
She smiled in the dark. “Yes. I tend to avoid sleep.”
“Because of the nightmares?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to get up?”
She snuggled against him. “No. I’m fine here with you.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll keep the demons away.”
“I believe you could.” She yawned, trying to fight sleep, but failing. “Your white light could do that.”
“Huh?”
She was drifting, barely able to keep her eyelids open. “That white light I saw around you when we were making love. It was so … beautiful.”
Dalton listened to Isabelle’s rhythmic breathing. She was asleep, had passed out almost immediately after uttering the words that had sent him into a cold sweat.
White light surrounding him.
Shit.
He was afraid something like that would happen, but he hadn’t known for sure. Not until he’d given all of himself to Isabelle, something he hadn’t intended on doing, but couldn’t seem to control.
What happened between Isabelle and him was more than just physical. He hadn’t counted on his emotional reaction, the involvement of his soul in their joining. He knew he asked her for everything, but at the same time he gave her all he had, all he was.
Huge mistake. What was he thinking?
He wasn’t. That was his problem, what he was afraid would happen if he made love to Isabelle. He had suspected after the first time that being with Isabelle would bring out a flood of intense emotions.
But he hadn’t counted on this.
Maybe she’d forget what she saw, or chalk it up to some sexual out-of-body experience brought about by a great orgasm.
Yeah, right. He wasn’t that good. Which meant he’d better come up with a plausible explanation, because chances were she’d ask.
No, he sure hadn’t helped himself tonight. All he’d done was remind himself of the darkness inside him, always lurking, the mistakes he could make with her future by making the wrong decision.
Had this been the wrong decision? He might have caused irreparable damage-to both of them. Because he’d allowed himself to care about her, and he couldn’t do that.