The Next Santini Bride. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ to the floor, he cushioned her head with his forearm and let his right hand slide down her length to the apex of her thighs. She held her breath, arched her back and lifted her hips in anticipation. His fingers dipped into her warmth, and her body exploded.

      “Dan!” she cried, and clutched at him as a wild rush of tremors coursed through her. One after the other, tumbling into each other, never giving her a chance to catch her breath, the tiny explosions went on and on.

      He held her tightly as the unexpectedly fierce climax claimed her. She rocked her hips against his hand, buried her face in the crook of his neck and rode the wave of sensation that carried her into a place she hardly remembered.

      And when it was finally over and the last tremor shivered through her, she looked up at him. Good heavens, they’d hardly begun and she’d already finished. How mortifying was that? In a ragged voice she said, “It’s been a long time. I’m sorry that happened so quickly.”

      He shook his head and smiled before leaning down to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

      Then he reached behind him for his trousers and fumbled one-handed for the pocket. Pulling out a foil-wrapped condom, he looked down at her. “I could use a little help with this, since I’ve only got the one free hand.”

      Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached for it, tore it open, then slowly sheathed him. His eyes closed at her touch, and he moved closer. Angela wrapped her fingers around him, caressing him with smooth determined strokes. He arched into her and in seconds, her breath was coming fast, need coiled again inside her and she shifted into him, urging him to cover her. To fill her.

      “Enough!” he muttered thickly, suddenly and moved to position himself between her thighs. Angela stared up at him as his fingers toyed with her tender flesh, smoothing, touching, exploring. She twisted and writhed in his grasp, giving herself up to the amazing things happening to her. In the glow of the foyer light, she watched his eyes darken and narrow with want and need, and she planted her feet firmly on the smooth wood floor and lifted her hips to welcome his first hard thrust.

      She gasped at the intrusion, and a moment later felt her body adjust to his presence. Again and again he moved within her, setting a wild, fierce rhythm that she rushed to meet. She lifted her legs to lock them around his hips, pulling him tighter against her and deeper within her. Each time he withdrew, she wanted to moan the loss of him, and each time he rejoined their bodies, she wanted to shout at the glorious rightness of it.

      He leaned over her, bracing his weight on his palms. Locking his gaze with hers, he set a soul-shattering pace that ended in a climax so powerful, so incredible, all Angela could do was hold on and hope she survived long enough to enjoy the afterglow.

      And when she heard him groan tightly, she wrapped her arms around him and cushioned his fall.

      Minutes…or maybe hours…flew by before either of them had the strength to move. Dan finally shifted to one side of her, pulling her with him, drawing her head onto his shoulder.

      “That was,” she said, and heard the hollowness in her own voice, “amazing.”

      He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through his chest. “Amazing is a pretty good word for it,” he admitted, letting his hand slide up and down her arm.

      “Well,” she said, still enjoying the ripples of satisfaction trembling through her body. “I guess we could get up off the floor, huh?”

      “What’s the hurry?”

      She tipped her head back on his shoulder and looked into hungry green eyes. “Hurry?” she whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again. “No hurry, but…well, we are finished and—”

      “Finished?” he asked with a shake of his head, “We’re just getting started.”

      “We are?” Oh, Lord, her heart was sure to pound right out of her chest any minute.

      “Oh, yeah,” Dan said, and shifted slightly to raise up on one arm. Trailing his fingertips along her body, from breast to hip, he smiled at the row of goose bumps that danced in his wake. “This time we take it slow.”

      “This time?” she repeated. Heck, she hadn’t recovered from the first time yet. Or the second mind-numbing climax. She had just spontaneously combusted all over her mother’s shining wood floor.

      Oh, she would never dust in here in peace again.

      “This time,” he said again, and rolled her onto her stomach before she could argue with him.

      The cool wood planks beneath her lent another erotic touch to the moment. Spread-eagled on the foyer floor was not an image she’d ever had of herself. Yet here she lay, naked and eager for round two.

      Then she felt his mouth at the base of her spine. His lips and tongue moved on her flesh and Angela shivered, clenching and unclenching her fists on nothingness, futilely looking for something to hold on to.

      He spoke, and his breath brushed against her skin. “I’m going to start at your spine, Angel,” he said. “Because your spine is connected directly to your brain. And this time I’m going to make love to your mind as well as your body.”

      Oh, my, she thought and let her eyes close.

      He kissed her, running his lips and tongue along the column of her spine, tasting her, learning every curve, every line. He’d wanted her so badly right from the start and now that he’d had her, enjoyed her, felt her body cradling his, it wasn’t enough. He wanted even more of her, and this was a first for him.

      Usually, when that initial rush of desire had been sated, he was content, and ready to move on. He didn’t want commitment. Relationships. Now, though, with this woman, all Dan could think of was more. More of her. More of them.

      His hands drifted over her flesh, and when she stirred beneath him, he knew her body, too, was flickering back into life. Back into need. At the nape of her neck, he nibbled at her skin until rows of goose bumps dotted her back and shoulders. She writhed beneath him, but he didn’t ease her discomfort, instead, he stoked it. With touch after touch, kiss after kiss, he fed the fires engulfing them both and hoped they’d be consumed by them.

      And when touching her wasn’t enough any more, he turned her over, scooped her into his arms and muttered, “Bedroom?”

      “Upstairs,” she whispered, locking her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest. “Hurry.”

      “You bet,” he said, and took the stairs two at a time.

      “Second door.”

      “Right.” He went up to it, stepped into a cool, mint-green room with a lacy cover on the bed and more lace covering the windows, where moonlight tried to peek through the patterns of frothy fabric.

      Walking directly to the bed, he reached down with one hand and swept the coverlet down to the foot of the mattress. Then he laid Angela down atop the pale-green sheets and stretched out beside her. Dipping his head to her breasts, he took first one nipple and then the next into his mouth.

      Her hands fisted in his hair as she held him tightly to her. His tongue stroked the pebbly surface of her nipples, and he tasted them both until he’d had his fill. Until she was moving and moaning beneath him. And then he began again.

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