Page 90 of Texas Honor

His face nuzzled against hers until he found her mouth. In the raging silence of the room, the only sounds were her frantic breathing and the slide of cloth on cloth as he brought her even closer and thrust his tongue hungrily into her mouth.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t fight. She gave in all at once, her mind in limbo, her body one long throb of exquisite sensation as his lean hands explored it with a delicious lack of restraint. He touched her in ways he never had before, learning all the soft contours of her body, brushing at her breasts, easing up her dress so he could caress the long, graceful line of her legs.

“Gabriel,” she gasped.

He bit her mouth, his teeth tender, his breath warm and smoky on her swollen lips. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, turning her ever so slowly under him. His voice was husky with passion, his body vibrant with it. His mouth drew slowly, passionately, over her parted lips, letting her feel every texture of it.

Her body ached. It was a new sensation, different from the other times he’d kissed and touched her. She felt a kind of throbbing excitement all over, as if her skin were wide-awake and every nerve were being stimulated.

Her eyes opened as his lean hand began to work at buttons and fastenings, faintly accusing, faintly shy.

“You have a beautiful body,” he whispered tenderly, holding her eyes. “I want to look at it.”

Her lips parted. “I’m frightened.”

“Yes, I know.” He bent and kissed her with exquisite gentleness. “There’s no reason to be. We’re going to make a little love, that’s all. Just the way we did once before.”

That relaxed her. Yes, she trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t Dennis.

She looked at his shirt, wishing it were out of her way so she could put her hands on his hair-roughened chest and explore its hardness. Her brows drew together in puzzlement. She’d never wanted to do that with anyone.

“What do you want?” he asked as he began the slow, sweet process of separating her from her dress and slip.

“I...want to touch you,” she said dazedly.

A corner of his mouth curved up. “Where?”

She lowered her eyes quickly. “There,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his shirt.

“Take it off, then,” he murmured dryly.

She’d never done that before, either, but it wasn’t so hard. Her slender fingers worked at buttons, struggling them out of buttonholes. Slowly his chest was revealed, all hard muscle and thick black hair and tanned skin. She almost caught her breath at the masculine perfection of it, right down to the firm muscles at his belt.

One of his long legs rested between hers. He shifted her a little, his hands moved, and suddenly she was bare to the hips. She stopped breathing and tried to grab the fabric, but his hands, warm and strong, caught her upper arms and eased her back down.

He shook his head slowly. “None of that,” he whispered softly. “You don’t have a single reason to be afraid of me, and I’ll never give you one. I only want to kiss your breasts, Maggie.”

Her face flamed. She never would have imagined that sultry look in his pale blue eyes, on that hard face. He smiled as he bent his head to her body; then his mouth opened over her whole breast and took it into the moist, warm darkness.

She trembled. Her hands clasped the back of his head, and as the magic worked on her she pulled him slowly closer. Her body began to move helplessly. She arched a little, her hands tugging.

He lifted his head, and she guided his mouth to the other breast, pulling him down with only a little shyness. The feel of his mouth on her was intoxicating. It made her breath come quickly, it made her body throb. She liked it.

His hands swept slowly down the silky length of her body while his mouth moved to her shoulders and back up her throat to her mouth. Insistent now, he divested her smoothly of the rest of her clothing and began to stroke her in the most unexpected and shocking way.

She started to protest, but his mouth slowly overcame hers, his tongue probing deeply, his hands moving again and finding wildly responsive flesh. She moaned sharply, her nails biting into his shoulders. Then she gasped and opened her eyes.

He lifted his dark head to look down at her with eyes that were as possessive as they were observant of all the exposed cream-and-mauve flesh. “What sweet little noises you make, Maggie mine,” he whispered, smiling into her eyes as the movement of his hands produced some helpless writhing. “That’s it, sweet, just lie back and let me show you. No, don’t try to get away. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you, little one. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

And he did. He did! Once, she almost bit through her lower lip as an explosive spasm of pleasure rocked her. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she looked up at him in mute wonder, her body suddenly trembling all over in a fever so hot she couldn’t bear it.

He bent and kissed her with exquisite tenderness. “Softly,” he whispered. “So softly, Maggie.”

The kiss echoed his words, was a tasting of mouths that transcended sexual arousal. There was a reverence in it, an unexpected beauty.

He stood up, every movement slow and calculated, and looked down at her helpless trembling as he stripped off his shirt and removed his boots. He turned, letting her see him as he removed everything else as well.

Her eyes possessed him, devouring all that glorious masculinity in a kind of shocked delight. He was tanned all over, hair-roughened muscle rippling with every movement he made. He took a deep breath at the blatant pleasure in her fixed stare and felt himself bristling with pride.

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