Shadowdance(113)

Lightly panting and hand shaking, she handed him the key. His fingers were too large and clumsy for the task, fumbling with the effort to remain calm as he unhooked the hoop and slid the tiny key into place. By the time he finished, they were both trembling, a sheen of sweat covering their skins.

Resting a hand upon her stomach, Jack smiled down at his handiwork. “That has got to be the most erotic sight I’ve ever beheld.” Idly he touched the small key, moving it back and forth and loving the way she instantly writhed against his finger, as if seeking more.

“Sensitive, are you?” God, but she made him burn. Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her nipple. And again, because once was not enough. And she whimpered beneath him, her arms closing ranks around his neck, holding him there. Jack closed his eyes, shuddering as he gave in to the heady sensation of simply letting go with her. Heat washed over him as he suckled her. His teeth clicked against the key, and he bit down and gave it a tug.

“Sweet God, that feels so…” Mary groaned, her fingers grasping the short ends of his hair. He tugged it again, twisting a bit. And she jerked, a moan tearing from her. “Don’t stop, Jack.”

Palming her other breast, he gave her what they both wanted, tormenting her with his mouth as his fingers plucked at her other nipple. Lust drew him in circles, making him dizzy.

“I can’t stop touching you.” He kissed his way back up her body, finding that tender spot on her neck as his hands roamed over satin-smooth skin. “I don’t want to.”

She roamed too, finding sensitive patches and secret hollows of pleasure along his body. Kissing a line across his cheeks, along his jaw. Her hips lifted, pressing against his. An invitation. Jack pulled back, his chest working against hers.

“Let me see all of you, Mary. I want to. So badly.” Instinct shouted that he take, plunder. But enough had been taken from both of them. Her tremulous smile and small nod were his reward. He undid the ties of her skirts, fighting impatience, and then slid them down her slim hips. His mouth went dry. She was everything he’d ever wanted, and things he’d never even known he needed.

Gently curved, slender limbs rose up to meet a dark-gold triangle of curls and a small glimpse of sly pink. Her buttery skin prickled, a light shiver working over her. Uncertainty creased the corners of her wide eyes and tightened her mouth. Jack couldn’t bear that.

The first touch of his hand upon the soft skin of her thigh nearly undid him. Slowly he caressed her, and his skin tingled as if he were the one being caressed. “Ah, Merrily,” he whispered. “I’ve no words. Not the proper ones to do your loveliness justice.”

“Nor I for you, Jack Talent.” Her hand eased over his arm, a light, heady touch that drove him insane. Her lips curled. “I suppose we shall have to muddle through.”

But she deserved words. She deserved to know that she was cherished. His hand glided to the subtle swell of her hip. “Show yourself to me, love.” His voice was as rough as splintered wood.

Her pale thighs trembled as she spread them. Her sex, glistening coral pink, was plump with desire. For him. Mary Chase wanted him. She was waiting for him, her gaze not shy but hot and impatient.

He prolonged the moment, taking his time to reach out for her. And when he ran a finger down her slick center, she bucked, a little helpless gurgle filling her throat. But she opened her legs wider, canting her hips. For him.

He found himself panting, his body quaking with lust. “God, just to be able to touch you.” Slowly he circled her sex, watching her writhe. “Do you know what that does to me?” He pushed a finger into her tight quim, and her lips parted on a wordless cry. Jack eased out and plunged in again, his throat closing, making his words raw. “Have you any idea?”

Mary licked her lips, her sweet breasts heaving as she struggled. “I’ve a good guess.”

She snuggled close, pressing her side against his, so much smaller than him, and yet the difference somehow made him feel fragile. Her fingers trailed over his chest, pausing at his nipple to circle it. He groaned but she drifted further down, to his aching cock, that somehow was still half hidden beneath the rumpled sheet, all but his head. That was peeking out, begging, really, for attention. Her lids lowered in somnolent perusal as her voice darkened. “Let me touch you, and we shall compare.”

The linen slithered over him, caressing before the cool air hit. It only inflamed his ardor.

“Glorious.” Her warm hand ran over his flesh, and he sighed.

Tentative and exploratory at first, her touch soon grew more assured. And then it turned almost reverent, as though she loved the feel of him as much as he loved the feel of her touch. Resting his forehead against hers, he simply breathed her in and caressed her sex, keeping time with her strokes. Their breath mingled and steamed.