Page 39 of For the Love of Lilah
There was moonlight here, streaming through the windows like liquid silver. He could hear the wind sighing through the trees and the distant drum of water on rock. Her scent, as mysterious as Eve, reached for him as easily as her arms.
He took her hands. Struck by the romance of the night, he brought them to his lips, skimming his mouth over her knuckles, down her fingertips, over her palms. All the time, he watched her as he scraped lightly with his teeth, soothed and aroused with his tongue. He heard her breath quicken, watched her eyes cloud with dazed pleasure and confusion as he made love to her hands. He felt the thunder of her pulse when he pressed his lips to her wrist.
He was bringing her something she hadn’t prepared for. Total helplessness. Did he know how completely she was in his power? she wondered hazily. The drunk and weighty pleasure was flowing from her fingertips into every part of her. When his lips slid down her arm to nuzzle the inside of her elbow, a moan was wrenched from her.
She wasn’t even aware that she was moving under him, inviting him to take anything, everything he wanted. When his mouth came to hers at last, his name was the only word she could form.
He fought back greed. It was impossible not to feel it, with her body so hot, so soft, so agile beneath his. But he refused to give in to it. Tonight, for there might only be tonight, would last. He wanted more than that fast and frantic union his body ached for. He wanted the dazzling pleasure of learning every inch of her, of discovering her secrets, her weaknesses. With patience he could brand in his brain what it was like to touch her and feel her tremble, what it was like to taste and hear her sigh. When her hands moved over him, he knew she was as lost in the night as he.
He slid down her slowly, searing her flesh with open-mouthed kisses, whispering fingertips. With torturous patience he lingered at her breasts until they were achingly full with pleasure. Down, gradually down, while her fingers clenched and unclenched in his hair. He could hear her now, soft, incoherent pleas, gasping sighs as he trailed his mouth down her torso, nipped teasing teeth across her hip. She felt his breath flutter against her thigh and cried out, rearing up as the first hot wave slammed into her. She flew over the edge, then cartwheeled down as he roamed relentlessly to her knee.
He couldn’t get enough. Every taste of her was more potent than the last. He sated himself on it as the tension began to roar in his temples, burn in his blood. Grasping her flailing hands, he drove himself mad by pushing her to peak again. When her body went lax, when her breath was sobbing, he brought his mouth back to hers.
She was willing to beg, but she couldn’t speak. Sensation after sensation tore through her, leaving her weak and giddy and aching for more. Desperate for him, she fumbled with the catch of his jeans. She would have screamed with frustration if his mouth hadn’t seduced hers into a groan.
Tugging, gasping, she dragged the denim over his hips, too delirious to know that her urgent fingers were making him shudder. Damp flesh slid over damp flesh as they pulled the jeans aside.
“Wait.” The word came harshly through his lips as he fought to hold on to the last of his control. “Look at me.” His fingers tightened in her hair as she opened her eyes. “Look at me,” he repeated. “I want you to remember.”
Muscles trembling with the effort to go slowly, he slipped into her. Her eyes went cloudy but remained on his as they set an easy rhythm. She knew as he filled her, with himself, with such perfect beauty, that she would always remember.
It was so sweet, so natural, the way his head rested between her breasts. Lilah smiled at the sensation as she stroked his hair. One hand was still linked with his as it had been when they’d slid over the crest together. Half-dreaming now, she imagined what it would be like to fall asleep together, just like this, night after night.
He could feel her relax beneath him, her body warm and pliant, her skin still sheened with the dew of passion. Her heartbeat was slowing gradually. For a moment he could pretend that this was one night among many. That she could belong to him in that complex and intimate way a woman belonged to a man.
He knew he’d given her pleasure, and that for a time they had been as bound together as two people could be. But now, he hadn’t an idea what he should say—because all he wanted to say was that he loved her.
“What are you thinking?” she murmured.
He steadied himself. “My brain’s not working yet.”
Her laugh was low and warm. She shifted, wriggling down until they were face-to-face. “Then I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” She brought her mouth to his in a languid, lingering kiss. “I like your lips.” Teasingly she nipped the lower one. “And your hands. Your shoulders, your eyes.” As she spoke, she trailed a fingertip up and down his spine. “In fact, at the moment I can’t think of anything I don’t like about you.”
“I’ll remind you of that the next time I irritate you.” He combed her hair back because he enjoyed seeing it spread over his sheets. “I can’t believe I’m here with you, like this.”
“Didn’t you feel it, Max, almost from the beginning?”
“Yes.” He traced her mouth with a fingertip. “I figured it was wishful thinking.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Professor.” She traced light, lazy kisses over his face. “You’re an attractive man with an admirable mind and a sense of compassion that’s irresistible.” Her eyes didn’t light with amusement when he shifted. Instead she lay a hand on his cheek. “When you made love with me tonight, it was beautiful. The most beautiful night of my life.”
She saw it in his eyes. Not embarrassment now, but plain disbelief. Because she was defenseless, stripped to the soul, nothing could have hurt her more. “Sorry,” she said tightly and moved away. “I’m sure that sounds trite coming from me.”
“Lilah...”
“No, it’s fine.” She pressed her lips together until she was certain her voice would be light and breezy again. “No use complicating things.” As she sat up, she tossed her hair back. “There aren’t any strings here, Professor. No trapdoors, no fine print. We’re two consenting adults who enjoy each other. Agreed?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Let’s just say we’ll take it a day at a time. Or a night at a time.” She leaned over to kiss him. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’d better go.”
“Don’t.” He took her hand before she could slip off the bed. “Don’t go. No strings,” he said carefully as he studied her. “No complications. Just stay with me tonight.”
She smiled a little. “I’ll just seduce you again.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He pulled her against him. “I want you with me when the sun comes up.”
Chapter Eight
