Page 33 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

Gently he cupped her breasts in his hands and lifted them slightly. Heavy lids screened her eyes as his thumbs stroked her until she felt herself tauten under this bewitching manipulation.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed. “Just as I knew you were. Just as I felt you were.”

Her throat hurt with the constricted muscles unable to contain her emotion. Her fingers outlined his lips as she entreated him, “Please,” and drew his head down to her.

His mouth was wet and hot as he closed it over the rose-tinted crest. He tugged on her gently, then tortured her with his flicking tongue. His hand was at the small of her back, urging her hips against the hard tension in his. When she moved so eagerly and naturally against him, a deep moan issued out of his throat and in desperation he clasped her to him.

He heard that now familiar purring in her throat that made the blood pound in his veins. That sound, her scent, the feel and taste of her, filled his brain and obliterated every rational, reasonable, responsible thought. Even as he argued with himself that this was lunacy, he was helplessly drowning in the essence of Erin O’Shea.

He left the bed only long enough to strip off his clothes. Erin studied him and experienced no fearful dread even when his aroused virility was fully revealed. Carefully he sat down on the bed and eased the nightgown off her shoulders and down her body. His eyes were hungry and devoured every inch of her before he lay down, blanketing her body with his.

They had both come home.

Their breaths mingled and spiraled above them as they each released a long, contented sigh. Lance buried his face between her breasts and held her tightly. Erin’s arms wound around his back. His naked masculinity so complemented her femininity that they both gloried in the contrasts—hair-roughened skin against silkiness, hard muscle against soft curve, throbbing power against a welcoming vulnerability.

His hands began a sensuous assault, thrilling her with every touch. They found her breasts and massaged them gently, then grew bolder and teased the responsive nipples into hardness. Lowering his head, he took her nipple between his lips and laved it with his tongue until she heard soft cries of bliss and realized that they had come from her own lips.

Murmuring his name, Erin arched and writhed along his large body, but he held her away from him by placing his hand on her stomach, his thumb between her ribs. He started a slow, mesmerizing descent. How could a hand, fingers, a thumb possess such provocative powers? Yet when they continued downward to discover the secrets of her body, it was she who gasped at the revelations.

Without persuasion, she countenanced a more thorough exploration. Sweetly he tormented her. His fingers deftly separated the protective petals and tenderly stroked that center of her desire that was moist and yielding. “Erin,” was all he said, but the wonder in his voice conveyed a million unspoken meanings.

Arching against him, she cried his name. Or was it merely an echo that reverberated in her brain? Hearing her plea, whether vocal or silent, he greeted it with an obliging thrust.

Then he became perfectly still and looked down into her eyes with disbelief.

“My God, Erin. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a soft, urgent whisper.

“I didn’t think it was important,” she answered in kind.

He searched her eyes with his. “You’re wrong. It’s very important.”

“I don’t mean to minimize its importance. It’s just that right now it doesn’t matter.”

“What does matter?”

She touched his face with trembling fingers. “Being good for you.”

“Oh God,” he breathed as he kissed her and broke that last seal of her innocence.

They moved together as though choreographed, in perfect synchronization, each bringing the other to the height of ecstasy and filling a need that hadn’t even been realized until now.

There was no explanation for this spontaneous act of love. Had they taken the time to examine their motivations, they couldn’t have found a logical reason for it. They were victims of an ancient force that made no apology or justification for its being. It didn’t

even exist until it was born between two people. And that was justification enough.

Patiently whispering words, the meanings of which were unintelligible and unimportant, Lance encouraged her, bringing her to a destiny she couldn’t have anticipated. When she reached it, he joined her on the crest of the wave, and she felt his full magnificence fill a void deep inside her.

He didn’t leave her immediately. His breathing was harsh and uneven in her ear as he nuzzled it with his feverish face. He held her tenderly, but possessively. Did he think she was a mirage? The stroking hands that celebrated her body seemed to fear that she would evaporate at any moment.

When she adjusted her hips more comfortably under his weight, he made a moaning sound that diminished into a shuddering sigh of delight. An answering passion championed her original dismay when he began to move inside her again.

Finally when they were totally spent and their breathing had returned to normal, he left that warm, silken harbor. With their legs entwined, he pulled her close and nestled her head against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His fingers traveled up and down her spine.

“Slightly better than okay,” she said.

A deep chuckle rumbled in her ear and she raised her head. “You’re laughing,” she said in surprise.

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