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been wanting to do it all day."
He turned on the bedside lamp and stripped off the rest of his clothes.
With her heart pounding, Claire lay obediently still against the pillows,
arrested by the dark, male beauty of his body as he revealed it. She remembered
well his sinewy arms and torso from their day on the beach, but when he
unzipped his shorts and pushed them down his powerful thighs, her breath
caught almost painfully. He was huge, vibrant and glistening in the golden
lamplight, his body hardened for lovemaking.
He knelt on the bed, straddled her thighs, and reached for the buttons of her
tunic. He tugged them loose, one after the other, his rugged face taut with need.
Laying open the tunic, he levered his body just above hers, his forearms trapping
her hands in the netting.
A disturbing glint shone in his heated stare. "You know the hell you put me
through, don't you, trying to get us inside this condo?"
"Hell?" she whispered, not quite understanding.
"Payback, or so I've heard—" he nudged his slightly abrasive chin down the
sensitive curve of her neck "—is also hell."
While he held her hands entangled in her tunic, he seared a tingling path to her
shoulders and then to her breasts with kisses, half bites and ingenious tongue
strokes that drove her slowly, steadily, into a throbbing heat. He was playing with
her, it seemed … yet, not playing—edging around the small triangles of her bikini
top with his tongue, flicking occasionally across their middles, making her want in
a way she'd never dreamed of wanting … in a feverish, desperate way. When his
lips tugged her nipples into long, hard buds through the thin cotton, she cried out
at the piercing pleasure and arched high off the bed, struggling to push the fabric
aside and feel his mouth on her.
His eyes were dazed by the time he lifted his head and reached around her to
unhook her top. He pulled it off of her with urgent tugs, and when he'd freed her
from it, he branded her with a smoldering gaze. "Claire…" he breathed. "You're
beautiful." He lowered his head to her again, expelling hot, unsteady breaths, and
reverently laved first one breast, then the other.
He forgot all about trapping her arms as he moved down to her bikini panties.
He applied the same teasing tactics, though, using not only his mouth, but his
fingers and thumbs, until she writhed in wild undulations, gasping and quaking
with the need for his body.
He stripped the swimsuit down her legs, then rose onto his knees between
them. Gripping her hips, he pushed solidly, deeply, into her.
The sensation momentarily stunned her. He'd stretched her with an incredible
hardness; filled her to an impossible fullness. She thought she'd explode from the
pleasure. As he began to move in slow gyrations, the pleasure leaped and glowed,
then coursed in heated torrents throughout her body. Her mouth opened. Tears
formed in her eyes. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts.
It could have been anger or hostility that twisted his features, made a muscle
clench in his jaw, but it was need—passionate need—for her. The knowledge
infused her with an uncanny power. She used that power to stoke his need.
A fine sheen glistened on his face and on every straining muscle of his
magnificent body as she matched and countered his thrusts. His gaze sought hers,
and he reached for her—pulled her up from the mattress, caught her to him in a
hard embrace. The move forced a deeper penetration. Pleasure nearly blinded
her.
His gaze probed deep. Soul deep. "Dance with me now, Princess." His gruff
whisper inflamed her. Her fingers dug into hard muscle at his shoulders as she
worked her hips. And he worked his. A ragged cry escaped her.
Tyce captured her mouth in a frenzied kiss. Their rhythm quickened with such
synchronized precision he thought he might go mad. She was more than he'd
bargained for. More than he'd known existed. He'd wanted sex from her, nothing
more. Not this need. Not this urgency. Not this certainty gunning through him as
he kissed her, as he loved her, that she was his—only his—and he would die if she
wasn't.
She clutched him fiercely, and with a wild cry, spasmed around him in a
shuddering climax. He lost himself then in the stabbing, white-hot thrall of a
pleasure too keen to contain. And when they at last tumbled together to the
mattress—gasping, panting, and quaking in each other's arms—he was too
stunned to speak.
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