Can't Help Falling in Love - Page 32/71

And then, before she realized what was happening, he was lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to the bed.

“I don’t want your legs to give out when you come for me,” he explained in a matter-of-fact voice that didn’t take away from the sensual promise even one little bit.

She had already pulled back the covers before he’d arrived, and he laid her down on the clean sheets. She wouldn’t let her hold around his neck go, wouldn’t give him any choice but to move onto the bed with her. Who knew how he’d tease her otherwise? Maybe he’d make her touch herself while he watched and that was when she’d come so hard, with his eyes on her, all the while knowing his hands, his mouth, his shaft would be there soon...

She forcibly stopped her imaginings on a shudder, but Gabe had already caught it all, her br**sts peaking against his chest harder than ever as the naughty vision continued to assault her already lust-addled brain.

“Tell me what just got you so worked up.”

“You.”

And it was true, Gabe was all she could think about, all she could feel, all that existed for the night. But he was quicker than that, could clearly scent her evasion.

“What else?”

His gentle but firm question, that small upturn of his beautiful lips as he watched her expression carefully, had her answering, “I was wondering what you were going to do to me to—” She swallowed hard, not having ever had any practice at talking dirty in bed. And yet, even though it was another thing she shouldn’t want, that sensual woman deep inside made her say, “—to make me come so hard.”

He shifted over her and she had to close her eyes at the wonderful press of his muscles into her, the feel of roughened fabric over her sensitive skin.

He lowered his head to the other side of her neck from where he’d licked before and pressed circles of pleasure against her skin with his tongue. Only this time, he didn’t stop there, thank God. Instead, he moved lower, the slow slide of wet heat over the upper swell of both br**sts taking her breath away in a rush of sensation. Closer and closer he came to her ni**les, licking shockingly soft circles over the soft flesh, heading in toward the peaks like a bull’s eye.

And then—oh God, please!—she felt him just brush up against the edge of her tightly puckered areola, and her hips were bucking hard into the taut muscles of his thigh as she tried to take herself over the edge he seemed so determined to keep just out of reach, when he lifted his head.

“And what did you come up with?”

No! He couldn’t do this to her now. Couldn’t stop when she was so close.

“I can’t—” She panted. “I need—”

But as her vision cleared, she could see that he wasn’t going to give her what she needed until she gave him his first.

“Tell me what you were thinking I would make you do.”

Desperate for even a small orgasm to take the edge off this crazy need coursing through her, she blurted, “You made me touch myself.”

His eyes lit with even more arousal at her surprising statement.

“And?”

“And—” She wasn’t really going to say this, was she? She couldn’t possibly give away such deeply held fantasies to a man who could never be anything more to her than just one perfect night, could she? Nonetheless, the words spilled from her lips. “And after you made me come for you, you made me come even better with your hands, and mouth, on me.”

She was rewarded with Gabe’s lips over the tip of one breast. For all his talk about slow, there was nothing easy about the way he suckled her, and she didn’t want there to be.

Megan threaded her hands into his dark hair and held him to her, loving the sweet suction of his lips and tongue and teeth over her shockingly aroused flesh. Nothing had ever felt this good. This right. And when he shifted his attention to her other nipple, even though she should have known how to prepare herself for the pleasure of his mouth, she couldn’t even come close. Not when the pleasure of being with Gabe continued to shock her from moment to moment.

His hands cupped and caressed her even as his mouth stole her every lucid thought away. It wasn’t just foreplay, wasn’t just sex...what he was doing to her was worship, pure and simple.

And through it all, she rocked and thrust herself against his thigh, her arousal growing to a fever pitch with every pull of his tongue against her, with every stroke of his fingers over desperately aroused skin, until she was right there, right on the edge of that orgasm he promised her she’d have.

The shock of cool air rushing over her skin hit her hard enough to have her eyes flying open as Gabe lifted himself away from her and off the bed. Before she could get her brain to cooperate, he was lowering himself into the chair in the corner.

“Show me, Megan,” he said in a husky voice. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

But she was already shaking her head, getting onto her knees to come after him and pull him back on to the bed with her.

“You already know.” And it would be so much easier, so much safer if he just touched her, instead.

But he wasn’t coming back toward her outstretched hand. “Let me watch this first time. Let me see you come apart with your hands on yourself.”

This was crazy. She shouldn’t even be considering doing this, should never have told him about her fantasy. Heck, she shouldn’t have had the fantasy at all!

But how long had she pushed away her own reckless urges? How many years had she forced herself to turn from adrenaline, to focus on always being safe, always taking the sure but slightly boring path before her. She wished she didn’t know the answer, wished she didn’t have to admit that even before she’d lost her husband, as a young mother she’d been playing it way too safe.