Page 66 of Heart of Danger
Catherine dug in her heels against the small of his back and lifted herself. He slid in a little and stayed there, unmoving.
“Mac,” she sighed.
He certainly wasn’t moving out of a lack of desire. He was hard as a club. He was sweating all over his back.
“Foreplay.” He lifted his mouth just enough to talk. She opened her eyes and saw him, face pulled in lines of pain, nostrils thin and white with tension. “I can’t keep doing this to you. To you, of all women. I want to take an hour just to kiss those pretty breasts. An hour kissing your feet and sucking your toes. You have gorgeous toes, did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Honestly?” She smiled. “No.”
“That’s because most men are idiots.”
“True.”
“And then I want to take an hour just to touch your hands. You have the most gorgeous hands I’ve ever seen.”
She laughed. It wasn’t a big laugh because he was lying on top of her nearly squeezing the breath out of her so it was more a huff of breath. It was okay. She loved his heavy weight bearing down on her.
Something magical was happening and his heavy, earthy presence kept her grounded, reminded her it wasreal.There was magic but there was also reality. That weight, the bite of his beard while he kissed her, the sweat that plastered her breasts to his chest, the heavy mat of hair on his chest rubbing against her, the hair on his legs abrading the skin on the inside of her thighs. The earthy smells of sex and sweaty man. His heavy heartbeat, slow and strong, the heart of an athlete, beating against her breasts, against the palms of her hands as she moved her hands down over his back…
That was all real.
Then there was the magic.
Feeling his heart beat against hers, as if they were two organs beating in the same body. Being under his skin, knowing what he felt, sometimes what he thought. They couldn’t be more different. She had no idea what his background was like—that wasn’t her gift. But she knew whathewas like because that was.
Knowing his bravery, his essential goodness, his loyalty. Knowing there was violence in him, feeling his toughness, knowing this was a man who would never break.
What he felt for her was right there, right under his skin. The heat of sex, the warmth of affection, the iron grip of his desire to protect her, keep her safe.
It was all so intriguing she nearly fainted from the intensity of it, as she had in the infirmary.
“But the thing is,” Mac sighed and slipped in her just a little. Just enough to open the lips of her sex and make her writhe with desire. “The thing is I keep getting sidetracked, bythis.”
He slid into her, inch by slow inch, carefully, every muscle tense with effort. He stopped when he was fully inside her, panting a little. His heart had stepped up its rate, as if he were running.
She felt that heart beat in his penis, pulsing gently inside her.
“Now, Mac,” she groaned, shaking. “I don’t need foreplay.” Every touch of his was foreplay.
It was such overkill, holding that huge body in her arms. So utterly male, so utterly tough, so utterly hers.
Every touch told her he was hers. Every touch, every kiss was for her.
He started moving and it was a luscious dance, skin on skin, beating heart against beating heart. Hard to soft. Meltingly tender this time. Every inch of her was taken up by this man.
Her hands and legs followed that huge bowed back as he thrust in her so carefully, smoothly, movements controlled. It was like being on a sea, waves rocking her and she lost herself in the rhythm, in the heat. Her senses blanked out, one by one. She closed her eyes and couldn’t see. The beat of her heart and his filled her ears until she heard nothing. She couldn’t feel her limbs anymore, all she felt was the center of her being, filled with him rocking into her, rocking, rocking…
She pulled into herself until there was only that small center of white-hot heat, incandescent as the sun and it went nova.
Mac held himself still inside her as she writhed around him. It felt like that sun was bursting out of her body and she had to let it go in wild pulses of heat and light.
“God,” he muttered as she slowly relaxed. Under him, and against her arms and legs she felt him explode into action, hips pumping as he moved in and out of her, so fiercely it almost—but not quite—hurt. It would have if this had been any man other than Mac. With anyone else it would have felt like a battering invasion of her body but she was with him every step of the way.
It wasn’t an invasion. His body was trying to get as close to hers as it could. If he could have, he would have crawled inside her and if she could have, she would have let him.
This was the next best thing, this utter and complete claiming of her, making her completely his.
When he collapsed on her, face planted on the pillow next to hers, she felt as wrung out as he was.
