Page 92 of The Dollmaker

He wanted her. Wanted to feel like she once made him feel. Whole.

Moving his hand over hers, he wrapped his fingers around hers, savoring the warmth. He waited for her to pull free, for any sign she didn’t want his touch. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She simply stared into his eyes.

Sharp leaned his head forward and kissed her softly on the lips. She closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss. The sex had always been great between them, but it hadn’t been enough. Temporary glue that couldn’t withstand the storms.

But temporary was good enough right now. An urgency hummed in his veins. God, but she tasted sweet. This moment felt like a homecoming.

He released one hand, letting it roam over her shoulders and to the small of her back. He pulled her against him. He wanted her to feel him. To know just how damn much he wanted her.

Given a choice right now, he’d pull her into the bedroom, shut off the world outside, and thrust inside her until he’d exorcised all the pent-up pain begging for release.

But when his other hand slid from her hair over her neck to her breasts, she tensed. Reining in his desire, he waited.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “I want this.”

He felt the thrust of her breast into his hand. Need elbowed past worry and any kind of resolve to keep his distance, and he gently brushed her nipple, feeling it harden through her sweater.

Months and too many issues had separated them, but he remembered her body and what pressure points made her forsake common sense and drop her guard.

As he kissed her, he continued to tease the tip of her nipple with his thumb and forefinger, all the while feeling her body melting into him. She moaned his name, her breath brushing against his skin.

God, he craved her.

“Are you sure?” he asked, wondering what the hell he’d do if she said no.

“Don’t stop.” The hoarse words traveled on a whisper.

He clasped her breast, and then glided his hand along her flat belly to the top of her jeans. He slid fingers under the waistband, taking pleasure when she sucked in her breath. He opened the snap with the flick of his fingers. He traced the top line of her panties, and her belly convulsed slightly as her breath hitched.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” she whispered in his ear seconds before she nipped it with her teeth.

Screw the high road. Without another word, he pulled her toward his bedroom and backed her up toward the bed until her legs bumped against the edge. She sat and then lay back. Emotions pent up for too long raged and rushed the gates as he straddled her and pinned her arms above her head. He kissed her again, opening her lips with his tongue. She arched up toward him and captured his bottom lip gently in her teeth.

He grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head, exposing full breasts peeking over the edge of a lace bra. He cupped each breast, kissed them, and sucked the tender skin.

A small whimper escaped her lips. “Best bad idea we’ve ever had.”

He pushed down her pants, kneeling as he slowly slid them toward her ankles. She worked out one foot as he leaned forward and kissed her at her center before sliding her panties along her legs. He ran his calloused hands up her thighs. She hissed, and he felt the urgency tightening the muscles of her legs.

He unbuckled his belt as he kicked off his shoes and then shoved off his pants. He climbed back on top of her, his erection pressing against her belly. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach, her breasts, and then her lips as he pressed the tip of his erection against her moist center. She tilted her hips, beckoning him in. Desperate to claim her, he thrust inside her. She was so damn tight.

“You okay?” he rasped as he hesitated and waited for her to adjust to him.

“Yes.”

For a moment, neither moved. He kissed her mouth and neck as her breasts rubbed against his chest. Slowly he moved in and out. Each time he thrust his hips, she opened more for him, growing wetter with each thrust.

She slid her hands to his ass and squeezed. “Harder,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

“Look at me.” His voice was sandpaper as he grabbed a handful of her long hair and pulled her head forward. This time he pushed harder, with greater urgency. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and held his gaze.

He moved faster and faster, and she gripped him tighter, locking her legs around his waist. The desire rushed through them both, and as her moans grew louder, he felt the shudder of her orgasm. As much as he wanted to give into the pulsing need to release, he wanted to make this moment last. He didn’t want it to end quickly. With an effort, he pulled out of her, savoring her whimper.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“That’s the last thought on my mind.”

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