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Christmas at the Castello(25)

By:Jennifer Hayward


"I need to taste you, baby." His sexy rasp stoked the fire inside her,  his eyes spearing hers as he drew back to look at her, a barely  restrained hunger in his gaze. "Your sweetness...how I make you feel. It  was all I could think about tonight touching you."

Her legs threatened to buckle. Coburn reached past her, shut the shower  off and found a towel to wrap her in. She gave her wet hair a quick rub  before he lifted her up, walked through to the bedroom and deposited  her on the huge king-size bed. She felt like the prey of some large  jungle animal as he joined her, intent written in his midnight blue  eyes. Her stomach curled in on itself as he curved his palms under her  thighs, bent her knees back and exposed her to the heat of his gaze.

She closed her eyes. It was too intense, all of it, to bear. She wasn't  sure what was more erotic, how much she loved it when he did this to  her or how much he enjoyed doing it.         

     



 

The first slide of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh  shattered any remnants of numbness, her body a desperate instrument for  him to play. She arched against him, seeking, wanting more. He gave it  to her with hot strokes of his tongue that laved her, devoured her,  until every nerve ending in her body was centered between her legs,  focused on what he was doing to her.

He wrapped her legs over his shoulders and delved deeper. She screamed;  she couldn't help herself. His fingers bit tighter into her hips to  hold her where he wanted her. "That's it, sweetheart. Give yourself to  me. You taste so insanely good."

She buried her fingers in his wet hair to anchor herself as he shifted  his focus to the delicate little nub at the heart of her. He slid  fingers back inside her at the same time his tongue lashed over her  clitoris with deadly intent. She arched into him, focusing on the  release he could give her. When he pressed his fingers into her stomach  and took her over the edge, her hoarse cry reverberated in her ears. The  white-hot pleasure that radiated from her center to every nerve ending  licked her up like an all-consuming flame.

"Oh, God," she murmured as the aftershocks of her orgasm racked her core, her hands fisting the comforter.

Coburn crawled up her body, his arms caging her on each side, a wicked grin on his face. "At your service..."

Her cheeks fired. "As if."

He brought his mouth down on hers, his erotic kiss exploring every inch  of her mouth, blending the taste of her, of him, of the passion they  shared. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The intimacy of it was  blinding.

He lifted his mouth from hers and rolled onto his side. "Touch me," he  told her harshly, his gaze locking with hers. "Feel how badly you make  me want you."

She turned and focused on the fully erect length of him, brushing  against the hard muscles of his abdomen. He made her mouth dry with  anticipation as she curled her fingers around him, his silk-over-steel  texture reminding her how good he felt inside her. And this time she got  to enjoy him without a condom for the first time ever, no barrier at  all between her and his magnificent virility.

The barely leashed impatience written across the hard bones of his face  dissolved on a low growl as he pulled her hand away. He pushed her onto  her back, then dragged her against him so his powerful body spooned  hers. Her heart stuttered in her chest. He loved this position. Loved to  talk to her as he made her crazy.

She relaxed her limbs, allowing him to push her top leg forward to give  him the access he needed. The crown of his thick shaft pressed against  her slick flesh, promising extreme pleasure.

"Tell me," he rasped in her ear. "Tell me you want me..."

She did because all week she'd been fighting this. Fighting the forces  inside her that knew only Coburn could make her feel whole.

His fingers tightened on her buttocks as he sank into her, one glorious  inch at a time, allowing her body to adjust to his size, his girth. She  wished she could see him, see his eyes as he took her, but he was in  complete control, capturing the delicate flesh of her earlobe between  sharp incisors as he stroked his way inside her until he was buried to  the hilt.

"I love the way you take me," he murmured huskily as she gasped with  the fullness of his invasion. "So tight, baby. So perfectly made for me.  Nothing was ever so perfect."

His words soothed her battered psyche. She reached back to touch his face. "I want to see you."

He ignored the request, withdrawing from her and entering again with a  deep, hard stroke. His breath at her ear came quicker now, a roughness  to it that said he was fast losing his grip on that ironclad control.  She felt him everywhere in this position, touching every nerve ending,  firing every synapse she had until her body clenched around his, begging  in silent invitation.

"Coburn...I need to see you."

He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, tugging her astride him.  His eyes were the darkest blue she'd ever seen them as he looked up at  her, inviting her to consume him as he had consumed her.

She took him in her hand and guided him inside her, sinking down on the  rigid column of flesh. Her breath whooshed from her lungs as she  absorbed all of him. He was sinewy, beautiful muscle beneath her, hers  for the taking. But it wasn't enough. She wanted his soul. She wanted to  know he was hers.         

     



 

She ran a thumb across his beautiful mouth. "You wouldn't kiss me that night."

"It was your punishment."

She lowered her mouth to his. "Do it now."

He curved his palm around the back of her head and took her mouth in a  scorching kiss that penetrated every layer she had until she was his and  he was hers and nothing existed except the two of them and what they  created together. Magic. Endless, sublime magic.

She lifted her mouth from his to circle her hips around his pulsing  flesh, indulging herself with every hard inch of him. His flesh throbbed  and swelled inside her, even larger if that was possible. She leaned  forward and let the friction of her body rubbing against his take her  close to orgasm. And then there was only Coburn and the pleasure he gave  her. How treasured he made her feel when they were together like this.

Her eyes latched on to his luminous blue ones. "I've missed you," she admitted raggedly. "I've missed this."

He reached up to brush his thumb across her cheek, his fingers sliding  down to cup her jaw. "Climb into me, baby. I've got you."

It was hypnotic, the glitter in his eyes as he unleashed himself and  drove up inside her, his hands on her buttocks holding her steady. She  couldn't take her eyes off his as she drank in the harsh edge to his  breath, the ripple of muscle in his biceps as he held her above him. She  let herself fall completely then, because in her heart she knew he had  her.

When she was so close to a second orgasm but frustratingly not able to  attain it, he moved his thumb between her legs to find her clitoris, his  slick rubs across the tiny peak making her whimper.

She moaned her approval, squeezing her eyes shut as he methodically  took her apart. The clench of her body around his ripped an oath from  his throat as he throbbed inside her, then joined her, spilling his mark  of ownership deep within her.

It was so different, so vastly intimate to have a piece of him inside  her like this; it sent a sated, liquid warmth through her entire body.  She snuggled into him when he turned off the light and curved her  against his side. But her glow faded when he dropped off to sleep almost  immediately. No low murmurs of love as he'd once whispered in her ear  to put her to sleep, just the furnace-like warmth of his body to comfort  her.

It was a vivid reminder they were together only because of this baby.  That this was what living with only half of him would be like. She'd had  a taste of it now, and it was even worse than she'd thought it would  be.





  CHAPTER ELEVEN

ONCE, A COUPLE of years ago, Coburn had run a race in the Sahara  desert, where the only goal was to emerge alive. It was the equivalent  of completing five and a half marathons in five days in  one-hundred-degree heat. You slept in a tent only long enough to give  your body the rest it needed, then you got the hell out before some  creature ate you alive.

He'd mused, upon finishing the race, that he'd likely never feel that  particular sense of impending doom again in his life. He hadn't until  now. It figured sleeping with his wife would do it.

Waking up with her long limbs curled around him, the sparkling  Caribbean sunshine slanting over them through shutters he'd forgotten to  close, it felt as if he'd come face-to-face with one of the deadly  reptiles he'd been so careful to avoid in the desert.

Instead of amazing sex to cure his frustration, last night had been an  emotionally complex coming together that had burrowed her under his skin  that much deeper. She was getting to him exactly how she used to, and  that couldn't happen. Not when she'd taken his world apart piece by  piece once before. Not when he'd never allow her to do it again.