Miracle Christmas. Shirley Jump

me out.’ Her voice sounded cracked and thready and she hated the naked streak of arousal so blatantly evident. There was an unbearable heat down low and her nipples were painfully tight.

      Luca’s heart drummed frantically as her smell worked its way past his diminishing resistance. It was Rilla’s essence and he wanted to bite into her neck, slip his arms around her waist and reacquaint himself with every inch of it.

      Rilla couldn’t stand the tension any longer. ‘Please, Luca,’ she half groaned, half whispered, her lips and body pressed against the wood of the door trying to escape the flare of his body heat behind her.

      Luca was drawn like a moth to flame as he moved closer, pushing against the length of her. ‘That’s what you used to say,’ he whispered, his lips in her hair. ‘I missed it, Rilla.’

      His breath caressed her scalp and her knees almost buckled at the husky timbre of his voice. His slight accent ruffled her name and a surge of pure want coursed through her. Rilla searched frantically through a brain that was powering down, seduced into standby mode by the feel of him, hard against her. Blood was being shunted to other areas of her body, tightening her breasts and pooling in her belly. She suddenly felt very, very awake.

      This was madness. How could her body betray her so badly? She didn’t want to want this.

      ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Luca muttered, the hand he had up high on the doorjamb lowering to push her hair off her shoulder, exposing her neck. His fingers stroked the soft skin there and he gave a triumphant smile as she stretched it for better access. His hand tightened on her hip.

      ‘Rilla?’

      She swallowed. ‘Luca, this is crazy.’

      Yes, it was. But her voice was a hoarse plea that grated erotically along his nerve endings. His abdominal muscles contracted as if she’d trailed her nails across them. Luca put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round again. ‘I know.’

      She sank against the door, his aroused body pressed against the length of hers intimately. His breath was ragged, clearly audible, rubbing against her skin like sandpaper. She shouldn’t want this. But she did. Seven years without his touch, seven years of absence disappeared in the fog of desire that encroached on her senses. It was as if nothing had ever come between them.

      Luca wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted anything. He lifted his hands to the cleavage of her shirt, to the top button straining to keep itself inside its hole. He looked at her, giving her a chance to pull back. Her tawny gaze glowed her surrender and he slowly popped each button in turn, exposing her chest to his hungry gaze.

      Rilla moaned as the air hit her heated skin. The look of naked desire in his black, black eyes forced her to swallow hard. He was looking at her like he could devour her. His breathing was harsh as his gaze roamed over her greedily. She felt her nipples bead beneath the lacy fabric of her red bra and she almost arched her back in blatant invitation. Luca groaned, his gaze roaming over every luscious inch.

      No one had ever looked at her like he did. No one. With eyes that stamped Mine all over her. She found it hard just to breathe under the weight of his possessive, hungry gaze. She should have felt objectified. But she didn’t.

      ‘I’ve dreamt about touching you. Like this,’ he whispered, a finger following the swell of a breast down into her cleavage. The finger tracked the lace edge back out again and in one deft movement pushed the lacy cup aside and stroked an engorged dusky tip.

      Rilla fought against the moan that rose in her throat. But it still found its way out. Part of her hated it that he could do this to her. Hated it that he could freeze her out for seven years and still her body flowered beneath his touch. Yearned for his touch.

      Luca swooped his head the short distance to claim her mouth. The first touch of her lips was like throwing petrol on a fire and he pushed her hard against the door as he savaged her mouth. She moaned and he increased the pressure until he was plundering her sweetness so thoroughly he wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

      God, he had missed this. Missed her. Despite everything, he wanted her as much as he ever had. ‘Tell me you missed me,’ he whispered against her mouth, his breathing coarse. He needed to hear he wasn’t alone in this madness.

      ‘I missed you,’ she cried, no thought of denial as he created havoc of such delicious proportions she thought it might just kill her.

      Luca wished that made it better. It didn’t. This whole thing was making him crazy. Everything burned. His loins were on fire, his chest was bursting with the pounding of his heart, his brain exulted in their inevitable joining and railed against it too. Damn! He didn’t want to want her this much. He was supposed to be seeking closure—not revisiting old ground.

      ‘Yes,’ she cried as his hand jerked aside the other bra cup and his lips closed over the turgid peak.

      Rilla looked down at his dark head fastened at her breast and had such a fierce sense of possession it sucked her breath away. She plunged a hand into his hair, pressing him closer, arching her back, urging him to take more.

      Everywhere ached, everywhere yearned. The tingling between her legs was almost unbearable and she reached for Luca’s fly, impatient to feel him inside her. She moaned as her hand found his hot, naked length. The stray thought that he wasn’t wearing any underwear floated out of reach as she squeezed him tight and Luca groaned into her neck.

      He was as thick as she remembered, filling her palm and she slid her hand up and down the length of him a few times, refamilarising herself with his proportions.

      His hands were hot on her skin as he pushed her skirt up. ‘Hurry,’ she panted as she guided his hardness towards her heat.

      Luca lifted her up, his hands cupping her buttocks, fitting her against him as her tongue stroked against his, betraying her impatience for a much more intimate invasion. Her legs clamped around his waist and he pushed her hard against the door for better leverage.

      He entered her in one decisive stroke, swallowing her cry with his mouth as he seared her lips with his. He groaned as she enveloped him in a tight velvet glove, the sensation too exquisite for him to even breathe.

      He opened his eyes and eased himself away from her slightly, looking down at her. Her head was thrown back, her teeth biting her lower lip. Her breasts, partially released from their lacy prisons, were swollen and moist from his ministrations and he wanted more.

      Rilla opened her eyes and regarded him through heavy lids. It felt good to be stretched all the way. She’d forgotten how well he filled her. ‘Please,’ she begged, ‘don’t stop.’

      Luca groaned, thrilled at the sheer wantonness of her exposed flesh and the depth of her supplication. He sheathed himself again in her tight, moist depth.

      ‘Luca,’ she cried, fixing him with her amber gaze as she clutched his shoulders, his entry rocking her head back against the door. His black eyes glittered back at her, like diamonds in coal.

      ‘Again!’ Rilla gasped, her gaze twisting with his as he obeyed her command. She pulled his head down and claimed his mouth in a kiss full of passion and seven years of denial.

      She cried out as he slid into her. Once. Twice. Three times. She could feel her internal muscles start to tense and tighten around him. He groaned and she knew he could feel it too.

      He lifted his head. Their gazes locked as their bodies moved to a rhythm that was innately them. Higher and higher. Closer and closer. Rilla fought against the rise. It swelled up and she beat it back, wanting to cherish this moment. Wanting it to last.

      Luca groaned, his resolve to outlast her fraying by the second. The pressure in his loins built unbearably.

      He lowered his head to her breasts and sucked each nipple deep into his mouth. He grunted at her strangled gasp and looked up into her face. She was walking the fine line between pleasure and pain and he wanted to, needed to, feel her come apart in his arms.

      He buried his face in her neck, his forehead against