More Than A Vow. Michelle Reid

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      Her fingers went into his hair. She was pure reflex, wanting his mouth over hers, wanting to open and give and take.

      He smothered her with his passionate, hungry kiss, hands smoothing up the contracting muscles in her belly to cup her breasts, making her sob with relief at the pressure of his touch on those tender, aching orbs. The cups of the bathing suit went askew and then he had her bare breasts in his palms, massaging, fondling, rubbing at her nipples so streaks of white-hot arousal shot straight into her loins.

      She whimpered, seeking pressure where desire was pooling like thick lava. She didn’t know how to tell him, only knew that his skin was as taut as a drum under her searching hands, his tongue erotic as he played with hers. A distant part of her wondered how this was happening, but another part didn’t care, only wanted him to keep touching her, keep playing with her nipples, keep stirring and stimulating her.

      His hand went to her hip and eased the bathing suit down. He stepped back to look as the bottoms dropped around her ankles. Watching his own hand, he slid his touch to the front of her thigh, up to her belly, then down, fingers combing, pressing—

      “Oh!” she gasped, never having felt her body respond like this. Sharp and wicked and wanton sensations prickled through her as he sought with a fingertip and toyed with her, pulling her in for another kiss with a hand behind her neck, utterly devastating her with the waves of pleasure he was rocketing through her.

      She caressed him with restless hands, wanting to touch everywhere at once, wanting to fill her palms with him, wanting to excite him the way he was doing to her. She no sooner cupped his hard shaft through linen, though, and his hand bumped hers, ceasing to caress her so he could release his drawstring.

      His pants fell and he stepped out of them, completely naked. He was ferociously aroused, dark and thick and ready. She hadn’t got a proper glimpse of her first lover, and Roman wiped all thoughts of the past from her mind. He fascinated her.

      She wasn’t frightened. No hint of hesitation struck. She was pure eagerness and excitement as she took in his nude frame, so perfect he was like a statue sculpted by a master, formidable and flawless, rampant and ferociously masculine.

      Catching her up hard against his front, he lifted her as he moved, muscles shifting under her hands as he held her nose to nose, feet off the ground and dangling. His mouth nipped at hers, inciting her to kiss him back. She curled her arms around his neck, ran her tongue over his bottom lip, then drew on it, sucking flagrantly, liking the way his hands hardened on her. He took the few steps to his bed where he followed her to the mattress, spreading her legs as he came down over her.

      Yes, she thought. It was the only word in her head. Her body was in a state of undeniable demand. Her entire being yearned for the feel of Roman’s hard muscles and his weight and yes. The feel of his aroused flesh rubbed against hers, parting and arousing, teasing and dampening. Seeking.

      Her arms cradled his head, her mouth pulled at his parted lips, licking and panting as he breathed raggedly along with her, breaths mingling, their gasps and growls carnal and unfettered.

      With a blind, startled shake of his head, he drew back. “I didn’t—”

      “Don’t stop,” she cried, arching to offer herself where she could feel him ready to penetrate, needing him inside her. She was so aroused she would die, actually die, if he didn’t keep pressing right there. “Please, Roman, please.”

      He groaned and the insistent pressure increased. Her tight flesh gave way, parting and accepting.

      Oh. It had been a long time and this was... Burning. Intimate. So much more like she’d always wanted it to be. His length pushed in, filling her, making her hold still to savor, wanting all of him...

      With a growl, he opened his mouth against her neck, drawing a love bite up to the surface of her skin. She practically levitated off the bed, pressing up into him, surrendering utterly to the experience. His tongue licked against the artery pounding in her throat and he shuddered as his body came flush against hers, pressing tight, possessing her to the limits of their joined flesh.

      She closed her trembling legs around his hips, astonished, beyond aroused. Mindless. She was pure sensation, her only dim thought that she was happy it was like this. Pure, abject passion infused the moment.

      He lifted his head and looked at her, eyes fogged with passion. Something clouded his gaze, as if he was becoming aware of how fast they’d arrived at this point.

      She didn’t care about that. It was supposed to be like this. Animalistic, but with both of them caught up in overwhelming desire. She licked her lips.

      His gaze followed the signal and his head bent.

      They were lost again. Kissing deeply. Her body eased its tight grasp on his, inviting him to move. He did, muscles trembling, and his excitement fueled hers. She stroked his back and rubbed her thighs against his sides and lifted her hips to accept the return of his, seeking pressure where she ached for it most.

      He made a feral noise and moved with more deliberation, making her gasp at the sensation of friction and something that strummed the very heart of her. It was the most instantly addictive feeling she’d ever encountered. She made a noise of female ardor and encouraged him with primal arches and a grind of her hips. The more he moved, the more reality fell away. All she cared about was the next thrust and the next.

      More. Now. Please. Please.

      They writhed in ecstatic struggle, fighting to hold on to the moment, lascivious sounds filling the air as the intensity grew, as he moved faster, as climax approached with merciless demand.

      The paroxysm struck her suddenly, holding her in a hard grip, mouth open in a silent scream. Sensations detonated then reverberated through her, rocking her to her core.

      Roman’s arms locked straight, a ragged cry of triumph tearing through the air as his hips sealed to hers and pulses of heat met her clasping orgasm, strengthening and prolonging her pleasure.

      They were wholly attuned, joined in body and involvement. It wasn’t happening to him or her. They were the experience.

      With broken cries, they collapsed into weakness, sweaty and wrung out, panting and shaking. Tears of deep emotion leaked to dampen Melodie’s lashes as she kept her eyes clenched shut, so shaken by the wildness of her actions she could barely face what they’d just done.

      That had been...

      She didn’t have words.

      * * *

      That was—

      Roman lifted off Melodie and pushed clumsily to his feet, arms weak, knees shaking. The friction of leaving her was a pleasurable stroke that turned to the chill of loss. He had to turn away to keep from falling under her spell all over again.

      No condom. He turned away, aghast at his carelessness. He never forgot, never lost his head. He liked sex, but he was always, always aware of protection.

      He’d started to pull away as he felt her naked flesh against his pulsing erection. She was the one who’d yanked him back into the act, begging. Offering herself with such abandon he’d discarded all cares but getting inside her.

      He shot a wary look her way, genuinely shaken by the way she’d slithered past his shields.

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