His apprehension slid in a different direction.
Every cell in him screamed for her, his groin thickening with the pulse of his blood. She was madness and freedom and every piece of hunger he'd ever possessed. He whispered her name, his hands charging a wild ride over her spine.
Laura tugged his shirt from his trousers, spreading the fabric and smoothing her hands over the skin she exposed. His body was tanned and tight, the thick, carved muscle wrapping him, telling her that his solitude was spent pumping iron. The result was impressive and she thought he was the most beautiful creature alive. Just the sight of all this man excited her, the feel of him against her driving passion to the surface.
She met his gaze briefly, then closed her lips over his nipple, her tongue circling, and now he trembled. Now he moaned and gripped her tightly. She rubbed his ribs and felt the old wounds laid over heavy muscle.
And with each kiss, Richard felt his soul unwind.
Felt his battered body shout for her, for more.
He thought he'd crumble into dust. And prayed he wouldn't.
He plowed his fingers into her hair, tilted her head and kissed her.
It was an eating kiss. Devouring. Holding nothing back and leaving nothing untouched. His tongue stroked, his lips rolled and tugged. Tasting and taking.
And she gave back more. Always more.
He clamped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground. She was a tiny thing, fragile and lush, and she stole his breath, his soul as they kissed. It wasn't enough.
A desperation raced to the surface, peeling into each other and spilling like hot spiced wine.
"Touch me," she whispered against his mouth. "Oh, Richard, I can't wait."
He did, sweeping his strong hands down her spine, her buttocks, her thighs. Then he hooked his hand beneath her legs and lifted, wrapping first one then the other around his hips.
He sank to the floor on his knees, never breaking his kiss, opening her robe and filling his hands with her naked breasts. She moaned, arching, leaning back like a pagan offering, and he closed his lips over her nipple. She cried out his name, her fingers in his long hair, her hips undulating against his, and he sucked her nipple deep into the heat of his mouth. Then he sucked harder.
Her body tingled in response, wave after wave of pulsing heat engulfing her and spreading outward. Her nerves danced. Between her thighs, she grew damp and throbbing.
The strength of his arousal pushed against his clothes.
And she wanted more. She wanted him inside her, filling her, easing this tight knot working furiously under her skin. Reaching over his shoulder she dragged his shirt up, tearing it from his arms and tossing it aside to the exquisite feel of his mouth and hands on her skin. She molded his chest, his arms, the flat plane of his stomach, her gaze following the path.
"You're so beautiful," she said, and he knew she meant it. Knew that this one woman saw the man and not the scars.
He came unhinged, his breathing labored, his hands impatient as they rubbed over her body. "I'm going to make love to you." There was no question in his voice, no hesitation.
"I was hoping for that."
He peeled her robe off, his gaze raking over her naked body, her thighs bare and spread across his. "This is going to take all night," he growled.
She arched a brow, gripping his belt, flipping it open and sending the zipper down. "I'm not going anywhere."
He swallowed and covered her hand, stopping her. "We need protection."
"I have it covered." She opened his trousers, her smile devilish as she slipped her hand inside.
He clutched her, but Laura explored him slowly, shaping his arousal, feeling him elongate beneath her touch.
A shudder racked his big body. "You're going to make me lose it."
"You said 'all night' and I'm holding you to that."
He pulled her hand free. "Not right this second."
She laughed and brushed her mouth over his jaw, the anticipation of having him, of feeling him fill her, making her eager for more. He laid her back onto the floor, and like a man on a quest, he tasted her body, her breasts, her tight, dark nipples, feeling them peak and harden against his tongue. She purred and let him have his way, and he nuzzled her belly, and when he bent between her thighs, expectation swept her. He parted her, sinking two fingers inside her, and she arched like a cat.
"Look at me," he said, and she did, her eyes opening slowly.
He probed and played, watching her face, her reaction, her pleasure, and with his gaze locked with hers, he scooped her up and covered her softness with his mouth.
She cried out his name in a deep throaty purr, writhing on the carpet. Richard saw every twist and curve of her body, every ripple of her muscles as he tasted her. Then he pushed his fingers deeper, stroked her harder and felt her body paw for more, felt the spin of desire pulsing through her.