Page 35 of Hunted Hearts
When she slid her hands up his chest and twisted her fingers in his damp T-shirt, he let out a deep groan and swept her up inhis arms in one swift motion. She gasped softly and looped her arms around his neck.
He gave the door a firm kick to shut it behind them, cutting off the sounds of the waking house.
Her bed was rumpled the way she left it, and he lowered her gently to the mattress. Bracing himself over her, he locked her gaze in his.
The pull of her blue-green eyes was like a tide, and he couldn’t resist the undertow. Slowly, he dipped his head and took her mouth again. Soft, seeking. A little rough.
A shudder rolled through her body, making him more aware of every inch of her tucked beneath him.
All that existed now was her breath on his skin and the way she searched his eyes like she’d been waiting for this moment as much as he had.
Her robe loosened as he carried her, the tie dangling by a single loop. The soft fabric slid over her shoulder as she shifted beneath him, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone and the faint flutter of her pulse.
Theo’s gaze followed the movement, his chest tightening, and he dipped his head to skim his lips over that spot. The sound she made—a soft, startled gasp—shot straight through him.
He braced his weight on one forearm and skimmed his free hand over her side. Under the silk of her robe the color of a rare pearl, her skin was warm and smooth, and he couldn’t stop tracing the path up to her ribs, memorizing the feel of her.
Juliette arched toward his touch, her fingers threading through his mussed hair as she slid her knee along his thigh, pulling him closer.
“Theo…” she murmured, her voice low and unsteady.
Hearing her say his name was possibly the one thing that could sever all self-control. But hearing her say it in that raspy tone dripping with desire stripped him raw.
He kissed her again, deeper, his tongue sweeping against hers. She pulled him down until his chest pressed fully to hers. Even though he was aware of how delicate she was, and he wanted to be careful with her, he couldn’t force himself to move away.
He wasn’t even sure when he started to see her this way. Maybe from the first moment he walked into that dressing room and she lifted her jaw in challenge. Maybe when he ran into a burning room to retrieve something precious to her.
He sure as hell failed at trying to ignore the curve of her hips when she walked or the way she closed her eyes and swayed when she played, like the music lived in her bones. But now, with her beneath him, her hands roaming along his back, any rules of propriety melted away.
Her robe slipped open completely as he shifted, revealing more of her soft curves in the faint light spilling from the window. Christ, she was even more lovely like this, undone, disheveled with that haze of want in her eyes.
He stilled for a heartbeat, his pulse rough.
“Say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and gritty. “And I’ll stop.”
Juliette’s lashes lowered in a languid sweep, her lips parting on the words. “Don’t stop.”
The whisper threaded through him like a current. He dipped his head again, kissing the hollow of her throat as he glided his fingers along her side, savoring the way she shivered beneath his touch.
She slid her fingers under his shirt, skimming her palms over the lines of his stomach, and he drew in a harsh breath.The sensation of her touch—soft, deliberate, without apology—stirred something primal inside him.
In one swift motion, Theo pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Her gaze drifted over him, her lips parting on a sigh or a gasp. The heat in her eyes made his pulse—and cock—hammer harder.
He caught her face gently in both hands and kissed her again, this time slower, deeper, letting it build instead of burning it all down at once.
Juliette mapped every inch of him she could reach—his shoulders, his arms, the ridges of his chest. Each touch of her fingertips lit another fuse, another spark of need. He let his palm trail down the inside of her thigh, feeling her muscles tighten under his touch, and the sound she made—half sigh, half plea—nearly undid him.
Their movements grew less careful, more urgent, as the desire coiled tighter between them. The instant she curled her fingers under the waistband of his sweats, his body gripped tight in response.
He caught her wrist and dropped his forehead to hers as he forced himself to pause just long enough to ask, “You sure?”
Her response was a soft laugh against his lips, her throaty accent stroking along his nerves. “If you stop now, I might actually lose my mind.”
That was all he needed. He captured her mouth again, harder this time, and guided her back into the pillows as he explored her curves. The way she strained into the kiss, along with the warmth of her skin against his, unraveled his restraint thread by thread.
Every sound she made—every soft gasp, every whispered inhale—pulled him deeper, drove him closer to the edge.
It had been a long time for him, but he couldn’t recall ever wanting anybody with this throbbing ache.
