Page 16 of Hayes

“I enjoyed our sparring, almost as much as I enjoyed our lovemaking–”She gasped when he clamped his hands on hers.

“I cannot stand it," he told her hoarsely.

Taking her hand, he led her without protest over the wide comfortable sofa where he pushed her down gently.

Going on his knees, he worked off her ankle boots and put them aside, his eyes never leaving hers. She had no intention of protesting. She needed him, needed this and she was no longer foolish enough to deny herself. Deny them both.

Next, he took off the blouse and bra before placing his fingers inside the waistband of her dress pants and tugging it down. His breath caught inside his throat as he gazed at the flesh-colored panties that hugged her sex.

His head lifted to look at her and the message was clear enough to have her breathing hard. His handsome face was hard, taut with passion, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Rising, he toed off his Italian loafers and kicked them away before tugging off the belt and unzipping his trousers. She watched, hypnotized, as he pushed it down over his narrow hips and kicked them away.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she gazed at the bulge in his underwear. The first time he had stripped naked in her room, she had been afraid and told him she was afraid he was going to hurt her. He had assured her that he would do his best to minimize the pain.

“It’s going to hurt no matter what I do, but I will be gentle.”

And he had been. After the pain had disappeared, the feel of him had been so exquisitely sensual it had sent her flying.

Hunkering down, he moved between her thighs. The moment was poignant between them, sending them back to the past. He couldn’t believe she was here with him again, like this.

He had spent years trying to get her out of his mind, telling himself that he was over her. Cupping her face between his palms, he gazed at her mutely before lowering his head. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his lips against hers.

Her arms came up around his neck, her fingers toying with the fringes of hairs at his nape. Refusing to think of anything else but this very moment, just being here with him, she opened her mouth and drew his tongue into her mouth.

His gasp filled her like music. During the times they had been together, he had taught her how to please him, and she had been an avid student. She had also not forgotten.

Hayes had intended to take it slow, draw out the incredible delight of having her in his arms, but her initiative was driving him crazy, her teeth nibbling on his tongue sending sparks of fire throughout his body.

Pushing her back against the cushions, he climbed on top of her, deepening the kiss, his hands digging into her hair and sending pins flying. Her hands wandered over the corded muscles of his shoulders, his back in restless passion.

“Cammy!” Dragging his lips from hers, he trailed hot kisses down her cheek. “Cammy!” He kissed her neck, the hollow of her throat, before moving down to her generous breasts, where he paused to look in awe.

“Hayes.” Her soft voice, loaded with emotions, had him bending his head. The touch of his tongue swirling around the tight bud sent her flying. Her head moved restlessly on the cushions, fingers gripping his shoulders as he tugged the tight bud into his mouth and suckled hungrily.

Her body fragmented, and after being starved for more than twelve years, Camelia felt as if she was breaking into tiny pieces. She had forgotten—Oh good Lord, she had forgotten the sensations, the pit of fire starting in the pit of her stomach and traveling all the way to her heart. Nothing in her dreams compared to the real thing.

When he reached between them and touched the sensitive flesh, she came. Her body arched, reaching for what he was offering, her heart racing as the climax slammed through her like a violent storm.

It had to be now, Hayes thought feverishly. Lifting his mouth from her nipple, he climbed on top of her, eyes holding hers as he slid slowly inside her. Gritting his teeth, he eased in even more until he was fully sheathed. It was home.

Finally, he was where he belonged. Sliding his palm over hers, he linked their fingers in silent and utter commitment to the only woman he had ever loved.

Her eyes were bright and there were no words between them, there was no need for words, their bodies melting against each other told the entire story. Camelia lifted her free hand to brush back the hairs at his temple, her eyes bright and luminous with passion.

He watched as she continued to trail her fingers over his jaw and then the indentation in his chin. “It’s still there.” she whispered teasingly.

“You made fun of me and said I had a manufacturing defect.”

“You then pointed to my dimples and told me I had a worse deal.”

His breath shuddered out as he continued to stare at her. There were so many things he wanted to say, but now was not the time. Bending his head, he kissed her as he started moving slowly, determined to drag it out for as long as possible. He wanted to savor being with her like this.

Feeling the pressure starting at the base of his stomach, he fought the frustration. Dragging his lips from hers, he answered the unspoken question in her eyes.

“I don’t want to come yet, he whispered thickly. Easing out of her was such exquisite torture that he could hardly bear it. Placing his weight on his right elbow, he gazed down at the woman who was the only one who could ignite so much passion in him.

“I need you back inside me," she told him throatily, trailing her fingers over his chest.

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