Page 43 of Take the Bait
She smiled up at him gratefully. She had a feeling she was going to remember this night for the rest of her life, too.
“Speaking of which, I can’t wait to lay you in my bed and make a memory of you tangled in the sheets holding your arms out to me in welcome.” He strode out of the living room and headed up the grand staircase in the front hall. She vaguely noted the crystal chandelier, polished walnut banister, and more paintings she would love to study in detail some other time.
But all her attention was on the face of the man who found her beautiful and desirable and sexy. He wasn’t Mr. Right. He was Mr. Perfect.
He strode down a dim hallway lit by tasteful sconces at intervals along the walls. They turned through a tall, carved set of wooden doors and stepped into a masculine bedroom with dark walls, a mix of antique and modern furnishings, and a gigantic bed that would comfortably accommodate its tall, athletic owner and about a half-dozen other people.
“If I bend down, can you grab the duvet and throw it back?” Cam murmured.
“Uhh huh.”
He dipped her at an angle that would be alarming if he were any less strong. But as it was, she felt totally secure in his powerful arms. She grabbed the edge of the white duvet, noting how soft its white cotton cover was. She didn’t even want to guess at how high the thread count was to make it that smooth and soft and airy.
His sheets were dark gray, a few shades darker than the smoky walls that lent the room such a sexy moodiness. Cam placed her down gently, leaning her back against the piled pillows whose white cotton covers matched the soft luxury of the duvet.
Cam stood back and stared down at her, his expression mirroring delight that gradually transformed into something akin to awe.
As his gaze traveled across her body, she felt it as almost a physical touch on her skin, warm and erotic. A flush blossomed on her fair skin everywhere his gaze touched her, and he seemed to delight in painting that delicate pink all over her body.
A shiver passed over her, not of cold, but of desire for this extraordinary man.
“Join me, Cam. Please? I want to feel your body on mine. In mine. I want to feel and taste and get to know all of you.”
He smiled, but it faded as he stripped off his shirt, pulled his belt from around his narrow waist, and kicked off his shoes. He stepped on the toes of each sock with the other foot and pulled his feet free, then pushed the fine wool trousers off his hips. His black spandex trunks went last, and then he stood before her as naked as the day he’d been born.
Talk about great art. The man looked just like the statues of ancient Olympians she’d seen in museums. The great masters would’ve loved using him as a model, too.
He was fully as fit and athletic as his suits led her to believe. Even what she’d seen of him that first day they met didn’t hold a candle to seeing him like this, naked and aroused. For her.
She held her arms out to him in invitation and pleading. She didn’t plan it or do it because he’d mentioned wanting to see her do it. She did it because her entire being ached for him. She wanted to hold him and lie with him more than she wanted to draw her next breath. More than she’d ever wanted anything or anyone in her whole life.
“Please, Cam,” she whispered. “Come to me, now.”
He moved swiftly around the foot of the bed and threw back the covers before lying down beside her. She rolled toward him eagerly, and he came into her arms as hot and hard and masculine as he’d looked standing there before her.
“What do you want tonight, Dani?”
“I want to come apart for you…with you…around you.”
He eased her onto her back and propped himself on his elbow to gaze down at her in the deep shadows. He reached between her legs with his free hand. Her thighs fell apart as he made magic on her flesh with his fingers.
“Show me, Dani. Come apart for me now.”
Her voice broke on a cry as her entire body spasmed and then exploded with pleasure. “Ohmigod. Yes!”
“That’s it, baby. Ride the wave again. Let me hear how much you like it.”
Pleasure, pounded through her with all the power of a stormy ocean, electric, wild.
She moaned. Then keened. And somewhere in the mindless, overwhelming excess of this endless orgasm that would not stop, she shouted his name. She pleaded with him to come inside her. To join her in this miasma of delight and find his own release. But he just smiled and drove her deeper and deeper into this place of raw, primal release where her body felt things and did things she hadn’t known before were possible.
Her mind shut down and she became a creature of pure sensation, reveling in the myriad kinds of pleasure she discovered she was able to feel—tingling, throbbing, wrenching, overwhelming sensations that tore through her, ripping her apart and making her feel whole in a way she’d never imagined possible.
When her body was shuddering uncontrollably, when she wept with pleasure, when her entire being pulsed with desire to each beat of her heart, then, and only then, did he lift to position himself above her and guide himself to her.
“Please, Cam. Now. Now.”
He became one with her with just the right amount of force, impaling her with his heat and hardness and size, filling her so full that she cried out in ecstasy. Her internal muscles grasped hungrily at him as his hips rocked away from her slightly. She wrapped her legs around his hips in protest, urging him forward once more. Grinning, he drove home again and she threw her head back, moaning in an excess of pleasure that was nigh unbearable.
