Modern Romance Collection: August 2017 Books 1 - 4. Maisey Yates

want you, Matt,’ she said, her voice low and defensive, and, with a muffled oath, Matt’s resistance collapsed.

      With a groan of defeat, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms and covering her trembling lips with his. It was what he’d wanted to do, God knew, since he’d gathered her up out of the water. He’d been kidding himself that he could control the needs she aroused in him.

      Joanna didn’t know how her legs continued to support her. The savage pressure of his mouth on hers had her clutching the waistband of his shorts with both hands. She clung to him helplessly, desperate to redeem herself. Anything to avoid subsiding like a sack of potatoes at his feet.

      A reluctant shiver of anticipation made its way down her spine as he continued to kiss her. Her heart beat with a slow, heavy resonance, almost deafening to her ears. The beat thudded against his chest so that she was sure he must be able to feel it. And her skin, which moments before had felt damp and chilled, was now turning her blood to fire.

      Matt lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, an unwilling hunger in their depths. Then he bent his head again and took one burgeoning nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled the tender tip, so that it hardened instinctively. The thin fabric of her tank top was no barrier to his searching mouth.

      With a low moan, she slipped the straps off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to his possessive gaze. She watched him as he ran his knuckles back and forth across the sensitive peaks, enjoying his quickening breathing, and saw the words of protest die unspoken on his lips.

      ‘So beautiful,’ he whispered.

      She swallowed convulsively before saying weakly, ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

      ‘I thought it was what you wanted,’ he responded roughly, and Joanna sucked in a breath.

      ‘You know it is,’ she said, unable to deny it, and with an oath of submission Matt picked her up and carried her into the shade of the trees.

      Her towel made a makeshift couch and he laid her on it.

      ‘God, should I be doing this?’ he muttered. ‘I don’t know anything about these things. Will I hurt you?’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ she breathed, gazing eagerly up at him. ‘Believe me, I’m not made of glass.’

      Without another word, he dropped his own shorts onto the sand and then stripped the panties of her swimsuit from her. When he was lying naked between her legs, she pulled his face down to hers to trace his lips with her tongue. Time spiralled; she was hardly aware of where she was any more. All she knew for certain was that this was where she’d longed to be.

      His kisses grew harder, more passionate, until she was practically mindless with delight. Her hands slid down his chest to take his erection between her palms, her fingers threading through the nest of rough dark hair at his groin. She caressed him and whispered, ‘You used to like me to do this,’ and Matt’s answering groan was muffled against her throat.

      Somehow, he dragged her hands away and parted her thighs with an unsteady hand. ‘God, Jo,’ he said. ‘You make me crazy. This is crazy, but I don’t want it to end.’

      Her breath hitched with excitement as he bent towards her and then he was burying his face in the moist curls at the junction of her legs. He had barely to touch her, and she climaxed. Then his tongue stroked the tiny nub of her sex and she lost control again.

      His fingers parted her, and she arched beneath him. She craved the feel of his hands, the hungry pressure of his mouth. ‘Please,’ she said, clutching his hair and dragging his lips up to hers. ‘I can’t wait any longer. I want you; I want you inside me. Now.’

      Her voice was thick with emotion, and with a muffled oath he gave in to her demands. ‘Do you think I don’t want to be inside you?’ he asked, licking his lips, tasting her essence. ‘I’ve thought of little else since you came here.’

      Joanna found that incredibly hard to believe. But Matt was leaning over her now, trying not to hurt her or the baby, and she was so wet and ready for him, he couldn’t hold back. With a feeling of total indulgence, he let his erection tentatively ease inside her. And as her muscles stretched to accommodate him, he pushed himself deeply into her slick sheath.

      God, it was good. So good. Familiar, yet unfamiliar, and all the better for the months they’d been apart. The velvety feel of her muscles closing around him was incredible. She was tight, so tight, he was sure no other man had touched her. She’d been a virgin the first time he’d made love to her, and he felt as if he were making love to a virgin again.

      Joanna wound her arms around him, the scent of her arousal enfolding him in a haze of passion. His mouth sought hers again, delighting in the sensuous battle of their tongues. Her breath was sweet, her words of pleasure erotic. They were like heaven to his ears, and he lost himself in sensual need.

      He cupped the rounded curves of her bottom, lifting her to accommodate his throbbing shaft. Pressing forward, he filled her again and again, pleasure uncoiling inside him. She was so tight, so wet, and he wanted to share it with her; to share the satisfying sense of atonement that nothing else could replace.

      His release was uncontrollable. As soon as he felt her body clenching around his shaft, he was forced to let go. His last coherent thought was the need to roll onto his side so he didn’t crush her. Before the irresistible pull of exhaustion dragged his tired eyelids closed.