Page 77 of The Promise
With a groan he pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him, wanting nothing more than to pull her deep within him and hold her there, safe and secure. He covered her face with kisses, touching each crevice and plane with his lips, memorizing the feel of her as her heart beat in syncopated rhythm with his.
He ran his hands along the curve of her neck and shoulder, smoothing his fingers across the swell of her breast. She gasped and pushed against his hand, demanding that he take her. He bent his head, circling her nipple with his tongue, waves of passion threatening to upend him.
God, he wanted this woman, wanted her on a level far beyond the physical. It was almost as if she were a newly discovered part of him, and without her, he would never be whole again. He groaned and lay down against the rubble strewn floor, pulling her with him, nestling her atop the hard length of his body, his tongue exploring the soft hollows of her ear.
He found the zipper of her jeans, and with a gentle tug, he exposed the filmy lace of her underwear. Her mouth found his and her tongue playfully traced the line of his teeth. He gently slid a finger between the soft folds of her skin, feeling the heat ofher envelope him. He lightly flicked the tiny nub and felt her bite down on his lip in response.
She sat up, the motion taking his finger deeper, and shrugged out of her shirt, the soft yellow light of the lantern washing her bare breasts in its pale glow. "Make love to me, Michael." She moved against his finger and tightened herself around it, then leaned down, her hair curling around them, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Finally, with a moan, she pressed herself against him, rubbing her nipples against the hair-roughened skin of his chest.
He stroked her, gently rubbing the center of her passion until she moaned his name and pressed her mouth to his, her tongue mimicking the rhythm of his finger. Twining his other hand through her hair, he drank greedily from her lips and then pulled her up, inching her forward, until his tongue replaced his finger, never breaking the rhythm.
She writhed above him, her breath coming in short gasps that made his blood burn for her. She breathed his name and fell against him, her body boneless, her warmth enveloping him.
With a sensuous smile, she slid downward, her hand freeing him from the confines of his jeans, firmly kneading him, stroking, up and down. She moved lower, her lips replacing her hand, the sweet heat of her surrounding him, driving him wild, until he was the one writhing.
With a groan, he pulled away, and they rolled apart, both clumsy in their need, tearing off clothing, making a crude bed of their discards. Finally, skin to skin, he took possession of her mouth again, his tongue thrusting deep, the fire in his belly pulsing out of control.
She sat up, straddling him, and with a shy smile, she leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders, her eyes locked on his. With shaking hands, he cupped her buttocks and raised her gently, groaning as she slowly slid down, impaling herself onhim. Then, just when he thought he couldn't hold on for another minute, she was moving up again, and he fought to keep from pulling her back into place.
They continued the languorous dance—in and out, up and down—until the pleasure almost became pain. With a cry, he wrapped his hands around her waist, bringing her down around him until he was sheathed to the hilt.
She bent and kissed him then, her breasts dancing against his chest and together they found a rhythm that carried them higher and higher, until the world disappeared. Michael called her name as fragments of light and color twirled around him like a kaleidoscope gone wild. He locked his arms around her, feeling her body quiver around his and knew that this moment was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Cara opened her eyes,her gaze fixing on the hypnotic dance of the flame in the little lantern. She smiled as the memory of their lovemaking swept her away again, allowing her to lose herself in their passion. She wondered idly if it would always be like this between them.
The thought brought reality crashing in. There wasn't going to be a future. She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. Michael shifted in his sleep, one leg thrown possessively across her thighs, a hard muscled arm wrapped securely around her waist. His hair fell forward into his eyes and she resisted the urge to straighten it. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, the lantern's golden flame still etched across her vision. How wonderful light was. How comforting.
How wrong.
She sat up, her heart beating faster, her eyes searching the lantern for signs of age. She'd seen this lantern. When she'd rescued Michael. But it had been older, rusted.
And broken.
She touched it. The smooth metal base was practically unblemished by age, the glass of the globe unmarred. She searched the shadows surrounding the soft ring of light. Nothing was visible beyond its glow. She frowned. Before falling asleep, they'd moved back, deeper into the recesses of the tunnel, afraid that the ceiling near the cave-in was too unstable.
Was it possible? Her heart was in her throat, hope poking a timid head into the cavern of her mind.
"Michael?"
He sat up immediately, his face wary.
"Where did you say you found this lantern?"
He relaxed, his expression changing from startled to confused as he tried to follow the gist of her conversation. "By the wall, in the front of the tunnel. Why?"
She ignored his question, too full of her own. "Did you see the cave-in? By lantern light, I mean?"
He shot her a look that clearly said he thought she'd taken leave of her senses. "No, I didn't. I stumbled over the thing and decided to bring it back to where you were sleeping before lighting it. I didn't want to waste a match and I was afraid it might go out while I was walking."
"So you didn't see the cave-in."
"Cara, I just said no. What's this all about?"
"I saw this lantern, Michael, after you'd been shot. It was broken. Remember, I told you." She held her breath, waiting for him to comment, but he only stared at her uncomprehendingly. She released the breath and tried again. "It was old. Really old."
His eyes widened as the import of what she was saying sank in. "A hundred years old?"
She smiled. "I think so. The lantern I saw was the same, I'm sure of it. Only my lantern was rusted and the globe had been shattered."
