Page 61 of Cursed
This time, she wasn’t so frantic. And the sensation of heat coursing through her was delicious.
His hand slid downward again, giving her most intimate flesh a quick, tantalizing brush. She arched against him, and he dipped into her sex for long, lingering strokes that pushed her toward another orgasm.
“I want you in me this time,” she whispered, her fingers closing around his wonderfully hard erection.
“Oh, yes.”
She lay back, guiding him into her, and they both sighed out in relief as he slipped inside her.
He looked down at her, his eyes dark with passion and so many other emotions that she could barely breathe.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he said.
“You just met me a few days ago.”
He stroked her hair back from her face. “It doesn’t feel like it—does it?”
“No,” she admitted in a low voice. In truth, she felt as if she had known him forever. That she had been waiting for this forever. And when he began to move, she moved with him.
Her ecstasy spiraled quickly. Out of control. Over the moon. And this time when she came, he was with her, calling out her name as his body went rigid above hers.
She floated back to earth slowly, making a small sound of protest as he moved off of her. But he only came down beside her on the bed, gathering her close, kissing the side of her face while she stroked her fingers through his hair. She was limp with pleasure, more relaxed than she had been in years, she thought.
Andre held Morgan in his arms, watching her eyes drift closed. She fit so well against him. It was heaven just to hold her. Making love with her had felt like magic. And he needed magic. So much.
Before she’d come here, he’d felt free to joke with her. Tease her. He’d loved every scrap of herself that she’d shared.
She’d traveled all over the world. He’d never traveled far from this patch of southern Louisiana. Yet it had felt like they’d had a lot in common. They liked the same music. They both liked good food. They both loved the natural environment. And they were both down to earth in a very fundamental way. And their values matched so well.
He’d been delighted to discover all those things and more. He’d pictured the two of them sitting in the sunroom or on the patio, talking for hours, then reaching for each other.
But when she’d arrived, everything had changed. He’d been terrified that she would turn away from Andre Gascon—the man in person. And worse, he knew that he’d dragged her into a situation more dangerous than he’d imagined.
He hadn’t known how to deal with her—or with his fears. But she hadn’t allowed him to shut himself away from her. And for that he was profoundly grateful.
She’d forced him to tell her about the curse. Some of it. But there was more he had to reveal. And things he must ask of her. But not now. Not until she knew him better.
When she did, would she run screaming from him? Fear leaped inside him. The idea of losing her was too much to bear.
Closing his eyes, he held her in his arms, profoundly grateful for these hours of intimacy, but praying that she would stay with him even when she knew the worst about him.
He had never spent the night with a woman. Never slept with a lover in his arms. But he was glad to do it now, overwhelmed by the luxury of sharing a bed with Morgan Kirkland—not just to make love but to sleep beside her.
He drifted into the most peaceful slumber he could remember, his shoulder touching Morgan’s. His leg pressed to hers.
A few hours later, the sound of a car engine and angry shouting outside made his eyes snap open.
Oh Lord, not again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Looking to his right Andre saw Morgan staring wide-eyed at him as men’s angry voices shattered the warm mood of the bedroom.
She sat up, exposing her beautiful breasts. When she saw him staring at her, she dragged up the sheet, and he marveled that she was thinking of modesty. Or maybe she was right. Maybe the uninvited guests in the front hall would come pounding up the stairs and burst into the bedroom. That thought had him scrambling out of bed and searching for the clothing that he’d left scattered around the room.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered, as he thrust one foot into a pants leg, then the other. Still, he had a good idea of what he was going to hear, if he made it downstairs. Someone had found another body out in the bayou. Another man killed by a large cat.
