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“I know, but you…you can’t just…”
His eyes flashed, and he crawled on the bed as she scrambled back. “I can’t?”
She shook her head, though her body trembled with anticipation as he loomed over her.
“And why can’t I?” he asked, his face going absolutely predatory as he wedged his body between her legs again.
“Because, it’s not…decent,” she gasped out, writhing against him.
The vibration of his laughter, his hips pressing into her, had her arching off the bed. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not a decent man.”
And with that, he moved back down beneath her skirts. Who knew her husband was capable of such relentless determination? God bless him.
She wanted to argue more, but everything in her world narrowed down to focus onhim. That decadent sensation of his tongue that drove her wilder with every caress. She thrashed beneath him, the part of her that was embarrassed quickly overtaken by the growing demand of her body.
She’d been caught in a lightning storm once. The bolts had struck all around and one in particular had struck far too close. Just before it had hit, she’d been filled with an energy that made every inch of her tingle with a power she wasn’t sure her body could contain. She was sure she’d be incinerated on the spot.
That moment paled in comparison to the sensations Gray created within her.
Her hips bucked beneath his mouth, trying to draw him in closer as the exquisite pressure built within her with such intensity that it bordered on pain. And when his fingers joined in, she lost all control. Her body took over completely, and she ground herself against him, chasing that crest that was just out of reach. Gray redoubled his efforts and the building wave finally crashed over her, pulsing through her until she threw her head back with a cry that was half laughter and half a sob of pure pleasure.
Gray reemerged from beneath her skirts with a look of such heat that she sucked in a breath.
“Don’t ever be embarrassed by somethin’ that brings you pleasure,” he said, fixing that steely gaze on her. “Understood?”
She nodded, still struggling to pull air into her tortured lungs.
“Good.” He pulled her to him, his mouth crashing down on hers. She could taste herself on his tongue, but it just made her movements more frantic. Her hands gripped his shirt, while his fumbled with the ties of her skirt and petticoats.
“You do yours, I’ll do mine,” she said, too desperate to get her hands on him to wait for him to deal with the rest of her layers of clothing.
He grinned and nodded, quickly removing the rest of his clothing while she rolled away to deal with her skirt and petticoats. Then he stood back, letting her look her fill while his eyes roved over her. She had thought she’d be embarrassed in this moment, but she was so busy devouring the sight of him that she didn’t give much thought to what he was seeing. Until she met his gaze. And then any misgivings she might have had were wiped away. Because the only thing in his eyes was heat and hunger and an admiration that she had never seen in any man before.
“My God, woman. You are breathtaking.”
Her heart stuttered, and she drew in a tremulous breath. And then let her eyes rake over him. She’d seen bits and pieces of him before. But never the whole picture at once. The edges of him might not have been as hard as they once were, and he definitely didn’t have the physique of a ranch hand who spent his days doing hard labor under the hot sun. But his shoulders were broad and strong, and he had a great wide chest that made her want to wrap her arms around him and cuddle in.
And the rest of him… Her eyes went wide at the evidence of exactly how pleased he was with his own view.
“You’re quite impressive yourself,” she said, her gaze taking in every inch of him.
He gave her that half smile she loved so much and reached out to pull her to him. The touch of his skin against hers sent her head spinning again, and she held on for dear life. He toppled them to the bed, and her startled giggle broke off in a gasp when his hand closed over her breast. When his mouth replaced his hand, closing over one pebbled nipple, her hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and keeping them captive.
He chuckled. “Always the bossy one?”
She panted out a laugh. “Complaining?”
“Never,” he murmured, turning his attention to the other breast.
His hands and mouth explored every inch of her until she was ready to beg him for mercy. He finally moved over her, and just the brush of his hot length against her thigh had her lifting her hips to bring him closer.
“You’re still sure?” he asked, the slight tremor in the arms he planted on either side of her betraying his inner storm.
She gripped his shoulders. “Please.”
“You tell me if you need me to stop,” he said. “We can take this as slow as you need.”
In response, she lifted her hips, and when he moved too slowly, she gripped his surprisingly firm buttocks and urged him forward. She knew this first bit wasn’t going to be the most pleasant, and she just wanted to get it over with.
