How decadent. She smiled up at him as the fire came to life, seeming to echo the heat rippling along every vein, every nerve ending. His gaze met hers, dark with lust, urgent with need.
“I’m glad you never put your shoes back on,” he said, reaching for the button on her jeans and undoing it, then sliding them off.
She gasped, although she wasn’t sure if it was the shock of the cool air in the room on her now-exposed flesh, or that he’d moved so quickly, now that he was certain she wanted the same thing he did. To show she was just as much a participant as he, she undid his jeans as well, pulling them down, trying to keep her eyes from widening at the obvious erection straining his gray boxer-briefs. His legs were sturdy, thick with muscle, and she swallowed.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on that, because now he was grasping her sweater and the camisole she wore beneath it, and pulling both over her head in one smooth motion. She had the absent thought that he seemed to be fairly expert at removing a woman’s clothing, but she decided it was probably best not to dwell on that. Better to be glad that she’d worn her black lace bra and matching bikini, and not something far more matronly. She actually did love pretty lingerie, although she didn’t want to examine the impulse that had led her to pack the newer and nicer items for this trip to Flagstaff.
Lucas stood over her, staring down as if he wasn’t sure what he should say. Finally he breathed, “You’re beautiful, Margot.”
She began to shake her head, and he cut in,
“You are. You’re perfect.”
Fine, she wouldn’t protest, but she would cover up her embarrassment by sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off and flinging it to one side. Goddess, but he was beautiful, too, with his broad shoulders and flat stomach, and the heavy muscles of his arms and chest. A fine sprinkling of dark hair there, too, just enough to make her want to run her hands over it. She’d never liked men whose bodies were as smooth as a pre-pubescent boy’s.
Once again their gazes locked, and it seemed he could see the admiration in her eyes, because he sank down on the bed next to her, pulling her close, her breasts crushed against his bare chest, his mouth seeking hers once more. One of his hands roamed up her back, found the hooks of her bra, and undid them. It loosened, and he lifted it away from her body, throwing it to join the pile of their other discarded clothing.
Then it was only flesh to flesh as he kissed her again, and her entire body throbbed with need for him, for him to provide the release she’d been wanting for so long, before she would even acknowledge its existence. His thumb hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down, and then his finger was slipping into her, stroking her, and she cried out, pressing against him, fingers digging into his back as he continued to caress her, touching her exactly the way she needed to be touched.
The orgasm slammed through her, causing her not so much to cry out as to actually scream, as if she were giving voice to all the years of pent-up need, releasing those barren days and nights, proclaiming to the world that she actually was still alive. She clung to Lucas, breathing so heavily those breaths might as well have been sobs.
“Hey,” his voice came at her ear, a soothing murmur. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just — that was incredible.”
“You think that was incredible?” he asked, and his voice held the tinge of laughter she knew all too well. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
And then he was kissing his way down her stomach, moving lower, and she knew what he was about to do, felt as if she should protest, tell him it was too soon for that…but she wanted it. She wanted his tongue there, wanted him to make her come again.
He moved in slow, luxurious strokes, as if savoring her taste. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, feeling the life in those thick strands, body pulsing with heat as he made love to her with his tongue. She could feel it building in her, a throbbing need, her very fingers and toes tingling, and then it went off within her, flooding every inch of her body with heat, with rolling waves of ecstasy.
At some point he must have pulled away, but she couldn’t have said for sure when, as she could only lie there, limbs trembling, breasts rising and falling as she attempted to draw in breath. Had it ever felt like that before? She didn’t think so.
No, she knew it hadn’t.
Lucas settled himself down next to her, reaching out to push her hair away from her face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
Words seemed to have abandoned her for the moment. She could only roll toward him, reach out and take him in her hand, his shaft so thick and hard she had a hard time getting her fingers to wrap all the way around him. It didn’t seem fair that she should be so satisfied, when it was clear he needed his own release. She began to work her hand up and down, and he let out a gasp, his head lolling back against the pillows. His skin under her fingers felt so soft, silk and velvet combined, and it wasn’t enough then to simply be touching him. She wanted to taste him, as he’d tasted her, and she bent and took him into her mouth, salt and a faint, faint musk touching her tongue.