Lonergan's Secrets. Maureen Child

it was enough to have her. To touch her.

      She gasped and arched into his touch, her legs separating, parting to give him easier access.

      It wasn’t enough.

      He needed more.

      Wanted more.

      Still kissing him, tantalizing him, her hands dropped to his belt and tugged at his shirt, pulling the hem of it free of his jeans and then pushing it up over his chest. Her palms splayed against his skin and it felt as though she were branding him—and he wanted to feel her hands all over him.

      Instantly he sat up, ripped off his shirt and tossed it to one side. He watched her and his breath strangled in his throat as she pushed first one strap of her suit, then the other off her shoulders. The tops of her breasts peeked up from the edge of the suit, straining against the stretchy fabric as if trying to escape. When she would have slid the suit farther down though, he stopped her.

      Heart pounding, throat tight, he grabbed her hands, stilled them and whispered, “Let me.”

      She licked her lips, nodded and then closed her eyes as he pushed the bathing suit down and off her until she lay naked in the moonlight. Her tan lines gleamed pale against her honey-colored flesh, and he found himself wishing she’d worn the bikini that had created those lines.

      “Went for a one-piece tonight,” he murmured, lips curving.

      She smiled and lifted one hand toward him. “I thought it would be… safer to be covered up, just in case I ran into you out here.”

      His smile faded as he watched her eyes. “Do you want to be safe?”

      She shook her head. “No. I want you.”

      “Glad to hear it.” He dipped his head and took first one of her nipples and then the other into his mouth.

      Her soft sighs scalded him. “Sam…”

      “I’ve been thinking about doing this since that first night,” he admitted, lifting his head as he stroked one hand down her chest, between her breasts, past her navel to the soft, dark curls at the juncture of her thighs.

      “Me, too,” she said and reached for him, running her fingertips down his chest, scraping her thumbnails across his flat nipples.

      He groaned again, fighting for air. For control. But it was a hopeless battle. With this woman naked before him, control wasn’t something he was really interested in. All he wanted, all he could think about, was burying himself inside her, feeling her heat surround him, surrendering to the hunger.

      Standing up, he toed off his boots, ripped off his jeans and then knelt down on the cool, soft grass in front of her. She sucked in air like a drowning woman and reached out her arms to him.

      “Don’t wait,” she said, planting her feet, lifting her hips and rocking them in silent invitation. “Don’t wait another minute.”

      “No. No waiting.” He stretched out over her, bracing himself on his hands at either side of her head. His gaze locked with hers as he entered her.

      “Tight.”

      “Good,” she whispered, arching her head back, keeping her gaze on his as he filled her. “Oh… Sam…”

      Better than good, he thought, biting back another groan of desperation. Essential. With one hard thrust he shoved himself all the way home, and she gasped, drawing her legs up, wrapping them around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper.

      He rocked his hips against hers, moving in and out of her heat with a rhythm driven by an overpowering need. She moved with him in a frantic dance fed by the flames devouring them both. Together they slid into a vortex of need that erupted around them, growing even as the demands of their bodies were met. The rest of the world dropped away and it was only the two of them—wrapped in a cocoon of desire that stripped away thought, logic, caution.

      Lost in the sigh of the wind and the call of a night bird, they raced toward completion. The blanket of grass their bed, the star-filled sky their roof, they were locked together in the darkness, lost in each other.

      Maggie stared up into Sam’s eyes as he took her, as his body claimed her, pushing her higher and faster than she’d ever been before. His body pushed into hers, and a delicious friction erupted within, sparkling through her veins like shaken champagne exploding from the bottle. She held on to him tightly, her arms and legs wrapped around his hard, strong body. She felt his breath on her cheek, saw the tempest in his eyes and knew she shared it.

      Breathless, she clung to the edge of sanity and fought for the wild release just out of reach. She arched into him again and again, trying to take him even deeper inside, struggling toward the soul-shattering end waiting for her.

      “Sam… Sam…” Her voice, broken, shattered the quiet.

      “Come for me,” he whispered, his voice rumbling through her like a freight train.

      “It… feels…” She couldn’t define it. Couldn’t explain it. Could only enjoy it and hope she survived it. And in the next second her body splintered in a fiery burst of sensation that nearly blinded her in its raw fury. She screamed, arching into him, quivering with the slam of pleasure that rocked her right down to her soul. She trembled and held on to him as if it meant her life while wave after wave of ecstasy rippled through her again and again.

      Body dissolving, a whimper clogged in her throat, Maggie still found the strength to cradle Sam when he emptied himself into her with a groan torn from the depths of his soul.

      Sam lay atop her and thought that even if it had meant his life, he wouldn’t be able to move. Heart thudding in his chest, he felt the rapid-fire echo of her heart beating in time with his and knew she’d been as shaken as he. Gathering his strength, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down into her eyes. “You okay?”

      She licked her lips, blew out a short laugh, then moaned as their bodies moved together again. “I should be fine,” she said. “Once the paralysis goes away.”

      “I hear that.” Smiling, he brushed his palm across her breast and relished the hissed intake of her breath at the contact. She squirmed beneath him, her hips twisting, and he felt his body swell within her again.

      She must have felt it, too.

      “I see you’re not completely immobile.”

      “Apparently not.” He rocked his hips against hers, enjoying her quick inhalation of air and the way her body responded to his intimate invasion.

      Her arms dropped to her sides, then swept along the grass until they lay stretched out behind her head. She looked like an Earth goddess. Moonlight pale on her skin, the long, green grass enveloping her, her still-damp hair spread out around her, her eyes glazed with a quickening need that he felt, too.

      “Maggie,” he whispered, bending his head to taste her mouth, to mate her tongue with his, to give her his breath and swallow hers.

      “Sam,” she whispered, stretching, twisting, writhing beneath him, “we’re going to do it again, aren’t we?”

      “Oh, yeah. Again.”

      Sliding his hands beneath her back, he lifted her as he went to his knees. She took him deeper and groaned as she straddled him and he dropped his hands to her hips.

      Throwing her head back, Maggie stared blindly up at the night sky as she rocked on him, taking him so deep inside that she felt as though he was touching the tip of her heart. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She clung to him and ground her hips against him, creating the friction that sizzled deep within.

      He guided her every movement with his strong hands and held her steady even when she felt as though she were about to fly apart. Lifting her head, she looked into his eyes and dived into their darkness, drowning in their depths, losing herself in the heat, the need, the tantalizing sensations of wickedness that rippled through her and around her.

      And