Page 73 of Tender Blackguard

Then she released her held breath on a sigh of relief and wonder.

They were joined.

And it felt more right—more perfect—than anything she’d ever known.

She searched his features in the dark, hoping he felt the same. Hoping he knew as she knew.

But the fire had burned low and the shadows had grown too deep. All she could see were harsh angles and tense lines.

And then he began to move. Slowly. Carefully. Tenderly. Long, torturous thrusts. Then, as the passion built, shorter, deeper pumps of his hips that rocked her into the mattress as she arched and gasped and moaned.

Sweat beaded on his skin and her hands slid helplessly up and down his back. Grasping his buttocks, then clutching at his shoulders. The frantic rise of pleasure inside her kept building until she feared the wave might never break—never offer that sweet, breath-stealing release.

But all it took was the press of his fingertip over the pulsing bud of her sex and she exploded around him. Her flesh trembled and pulsed as ripples of pleasure spread out to every nerve, leaving her shaking and gasping. She barely came back to her senses in time to feel him tense from head to toe. With a rough groan, he pulled himself free of her body. His head dropped beside hers, and his mouth closed over the muscle of her shoulder as his hot seed spilled against her belly.

Then with a final shudder, he heaved himself to the side, sprawling heavily onto his back.

Chapter Twenty-five

Holy blasted hell.

Alastair stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply to dispel the spinning stars from his vision. He’d never experienced anything so...intense. So bloody mind-melting.

He angled his gaze toward the woman beside him. The pale form of her lovely naked body was sprawled much as his. Her blonde hair was spread in a tangled mess over his pillows, and her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breath.

Though he felt shaken and weak, he used the discarded towel to wipe his issue from her belly and himself. Then he stretched out on his side, cushioning his head on his bent arm while reaching for her with the other. He couldn’t not touch her. Settling his hand on her abdomen, just below the curves of her breasts, he monitored her deep inhales and shaky exhales until they slowed to a steadier pace. Then he began a gentle exploration with his fingertips and the brush of his knuckles. He memorized the angle of her collarbone, the shallow dish of her sternum, then the soft curve of her belly.

She kept her eyes closed throughout and lay unmoving as gooseflesh rose on her skin. He suspected she might have fallen asleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop the slow caress. When he slipped his fingers along her side, measuring the sloping curve of her waist and hip, she gave a little start.

Ticklish?

He swept his fingers lightly up to her underarm, and she made a soft sound of protest then curled up and rolled to face him. His hand fell to her hip as his eyes met hers. It was a languid, sated gaze that instantly triggered a rushing need to protect and keep this woman. Giving in to impulse, he pulled her closer. She responded by uncurling her limbs to slide one slim leg over his as she slipped a hand over his rib cage to press against his back. Then she tipped her face to his and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw before she nuzzled her face in the curve of his neck.

Within another breathless moment, she was asleep.

He knew it this time by the deep, rhythmic flow of her breath and the relaxed weight of her limbs across his body.

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