Page 72 of Mr. Scandalous

He paused again at that point, still anxious to drag it out as long as possible, her rich, feminine scent reaching up to him, caressing him with piquant fingers. He inhaled her sex and the world spun away. He was fuzzy-headed and consumed by the moment and his sweet, loving woman.

But without warning she took over, constricting herself around him, rhythmically gripping and squeezing his erection.

What power she possessed.

She looked back at him then, through the curtain of her hair and her fevered eyes locked onto his. Eyes pleading yet giving. Eyes glistening with lust, pure and unashamed.

A knot of emotion clogged his chest when he realized that because of him, she’d thrown off her embarrassment over her scars. She opened herself up to him, embracing him with an astonishing vitality.

How brave she was. How daring.

Admiration for her surged, became twins with his desire. She was one hell of a woman, and he would never, ever forget her.

He sank his fingers into her hips, and she pushed back against him, her hunger, her demand as unmistakable as his own.

What he felt was better than any adrenaline rush from extreme sports. The power, the pleasure, the glory swept him away in an unstoppable tide of sensation.

He was Hercules, strong and invincible, bellowing in the storm atop Mount Olympus as lightning burned his thighs and thunder rumbled low from his loins, beckoning forth the hot torrential release that rushed and streamed from Alec into his woman, his lady, his goddess, who raged with him. Their voices rejoiced in their union while she hungrily consumed his spasms, evoking the next and the next and the next.

And the next.

When it was over, they lay cuddled together in a panting, twisted heap, inebriated by the afterglow. He cradled her against his arm and softly kissed her forehead. She murmured and burrowed against his chest.

They were damp with sweat. Their backs and bellies and thighs were slick with the moisture of sex. He rubbed his beard stubble against her skin, and she giggled, the bubbly sound as intoxicating as champagne.

He drifted on a cloud of happiness, spent and sated. Everything was perfect.

In a matter ofminutes Eden was sound asleep, her gentle breathing music to his ears. He delighted in the weight of her head against his shoulder, the wonderful scent of her in his nostrils. Alec realized it had been a very long time since he had been this happy.

He dozed for a while but soon felt her warm Lips nibbling at his collarbone.

“Can we go again?” She stroked his manhood, coaxing his body to stiffen.

“So soon?”

“It’s our last night together. We’ve got no time for sleep.”

Although he was tired and sore, and his bones liquid, he rose to the occasion.

Literally.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Eden produced a fresh condom, cupped him in her palm and playfully capped his erection.

He couldn’t believe he was so hot and ready for her again so soon after that last time, but she had an unerring talent for knowing just where to touch, just how to turn him into a bundle of throbbing testosterone.

But in spite of the wildness marching through his veins, this time he wanted something slow and quiet. He flipped her onto her back and positioned himself above her, pinning her to the bed.

They were eye to eye, her breath warm against his chin. He propped his weight on his forearms, his pounding manhood pressed against her soft belly. They lay pelvis to pelvis, skin to skin, the smoothness of her breasts flush against his hard chest. It was an exhilarating and erotic moment. Their skin seared together, instant heat spreading from him to her and her to him.

Slowly he entered her willing body, and she uttered a happy sigh. The sound touched him.

Compelled by a force he could not explain, Alec stopped moving inside her. He cupped her cheeks in his palms and stared and stared and stared at her. Past the thickly lashed eyes, over the blue iris and into her pupils.

He tumbled down, down, down into the glorious abyss of Eden’s pure essence. He kissed her deeply, soulfully, without ever closing his eyes. She kept her eyes open, too, and that’s when he felt something dangerous slip inside his heart.

A treacherous emotion he did not dare name but had spent his entire adulthood avoiding, blooming inside his chest, crowding his heart, tightening his lungs, clogging his throat. This kind of emotional intimacy did not fit into his plans. Never had, never would.

The desperate urge to flee encompassed him. He’d never bargained for this feeling. Didn’t want anything to do with the repercussions.

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