Page 80 of Lost in the Moonlight

He lifted me onto the counter, stepping between my legs, and all the while, his mouth did things to mine that felt illegal. That felt like sin had been given free rein. Or maybe the reverse. As if heaven was granting us a gift, and angels were singing.

My thighs tightened around his hips, and his eyes clouded with lust. Warm hands slid under the soft shirt I’d borrowed, lifting it and sending it sailing. And then, those clever lips dropped to my neck, sucking at my throbbing pulse before dipping down, down, down to taunt a pebbled tip with tongue and teeth.

I whispered his name like a song, and I felt him smile against my skin.

My body felt languid, drunk, and yet dizzily alive as he caressed and tormented and soothed.

He traced a wet line along my rib cage.

“Beautiful. This dusting on your body,” he groaned as he tugged at the waistband of the sweats so his fingers could follow the smattering of freckles that pirouetted below. He pulled the sweats off, leaving me in a pair of basic white cotton underwear on his bathroom counter.

I didn’t have time to think or be embarrassed as he moved on to worshipping my body. Warm hands slid over my legs, gently caressing an ankle, a calf, a thigh. He placed a hungry kiss on my belly button, tongue teasing the stud I’d gotten while at culinary school—an act of rebellion that seemed ludicrous now because no one ever saw it but me.

It wasn’t like I ever had a chance to wear a bikini when I never left the confines of Cherry Bay. Never went beyond any of the boundaries I’d set for myself, including the cage that had nothing to do with location and everything to do with this…with emotion and lust and longing that I’d said I craved and yet had done everything to keep at bay.

Lincoln looked up, eyes darkening into pools of desire I wanted to dive into. Wanted to get lost in. I cupped his cheeks, drawing that wicked mouth up to mine, before devouring him as he’d been me, with want and wildness leading the way. Pure instinct rather than experience showing me how to plunder and demand.

Another breathy, desperate moan left me as I pressed my body closer. Needing more. Needing him.

He lifted me easily, moving us out of the bathroom. The cool air of the bedroom hit my naked flesh, causing a shiver to trailover me. He laid me down on the dark brocade before settling between my legs, our mouths already seeking each other again.

Strong hands glided down my arms, the gentle caresses turning me on one nerve ending at a time. Then he was stroking my sides, my waist, my hips, until his fingers slipped beneath the only item of clothing I had left and found a new home.

I broke our kiss as a gasp of pleasure ripped through me. My hips slammed against his palm. When I dared open my eyes, it was the look of awe on Lincoln’s face that nearly sent me soaring.

“You’re exquisite. So damn stunning,” he said and took my lips with his again.

His fingers spun, turning, curving, sliding, cavorting.

A dam built inside me, stroke by stroke, threatening to break at any moment.

Until the intensity was almost too much to bear.

His mouth slid down my neck, teeth nipping at the soft juncture by my ear just as he plunged inside me again, and my body shook and let go.

I’d never felt more real. More human. More alive.

He slowly removed his fingers as my body trembled to a stop. His kisses turned softer and less demanding. I opened my eyes again as he rested his elbows on either side of my head, pushing up and away, taking that delicious mouth and keeping it just out of reach.

I knew what he was doing. I saw the look on his face as he tried to stop the train we’d started, but I didn’t want it stopped. I wanted to finish this with him buried deep inside me. To feel that pleasure he’d just given me all over again. Stronger. Fuller. Deeper.

I tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it over his head as he huffed and laughed. His eyes were alight with humor when they found mine, but I wanted the dark pools of desire. So, I leaned up and nipped at his lower lip, sucking it into my mouth as my hands traveled over the tense muscles of his back. They were defined. Smooth as silk and yet hard as stone. A dichotomy that fit Lincoln completely.

When I squeezed his butt cheeks, his hips landed against mine with a grunt. “Sweetness—”

I cut him off with another kiss. It was hard and fierce, just like the one he’d given me by the door.

“Shut up, Lincoln. Shut up and finish what you started.”

He laughed, and the deep joy of it rang through me, making my body quiver again, almost as if his fingers were inside me all over again.

“I think you’re the one who started this in the bathroom,” he said.

“Oh, believe me,” I responded, “you started it from the moment you showed up in the cemetery.”

He stared at me for a long moment, hand skimming my cheek.

I thrust my hips into his.

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