As fact matched thought, they slipped beneath the surface of the water. He kissed her again, and this time, he slid his hand into the bottom of her bikini and cupped her, pressing a finger into her tight passage and probing … stroking.
It lasted no more than a few seconds. He dragged them both back up for air. Hattie wrapped her legs around his waist, her ragged breathing matching his. She had a death grip on his shoulders, her brea**sts mashed to his chest.
She initiated the kiss this time, her small teeth nipping his bottom lip, her tongue sliding between his teeth, dazing him with an ache so intense, his head hurt. Hunger raged like a wild animal, one that hadn't been fed in a decade.
She whimpered when he cupped her bottom, pulling her closer. "Luc … Luc."
Hearing his name on her lips almost unmanned him. "What, Hattie?"
"Please," she groaned. "My answer is yes. Please, please, please make love to me."
Exultation filled his chest. That was what he needed to hear. "Ask me again," he demanded.
Her gaze filled with frustration. "No games. Take me. Now."
Twelve
Hattie stumbled as Luc dragged her toward the house, their few belongings left behind in his haste. His grip on her wrist allowed no protest. But then why would she … protest, that is?
She wanted Luc-the sooner the better.
If she had expected awkwardness in the bedroom, she was wrong. Luc was smooth, determined. He stripped off his trunks, grinning tightly when she looked her fill.
His erection was magnificent. Thick, long and ready for her … only her. His broad chest and strong arms rippled with muscles. He cupped her face in his hands. "Take it off."
His adamant tone brooked no refusal.
She trembled inside and out as she unfastened the knot at the back of her neck and reached behind to undo the clasp. For seconds, the bikini top clung damply to her brea**sts as she clutched it in sudden, belated hesitation.
The corner of Luc's beautiful mouth quirked in a half smile. "Don't go all shy on me now, Hattie."
She gulped inwardly and let the scraps of fabric fall. Luc inhaled sharply. The look in his eyes made her weak. In college, he had been her first love, her first lover. Now he was a mature man in his sexual prime. She felt the heat of his desire, not as quiet warmth, but as a flashpoint poised to explode.
There was the problem of what to do with her hands. She wanted to cover her brea**sts instinctively. But she knew Luc would have none of that. So her arms hung at her sides as she shifted from one foot to the other.
He lifted an eyebrow. "You're not finished."
She might have taken umbrage at his arrogant tone had she not been as eager as he was for the next act. Removing her last barrier of modesty proved harder than she expected.
Luc lost patience. He gripped her hips. "Too slow," he growled. He kissed her wildly, his mouth everywhere … her lips, her throat, and finally, her bare breasts. The sensation was an electric shock. Her entire body melted into him, closer and closer still.
His hard shaft bruised her hipbone. The soft, wiry hair on his chest tickled her sensitive skin. Breath by gasping breath they relearned the taste of each other-the touch, the sound, the smell. It was a smorgasbord of sensual delight. A cornucopia of excess.
He tangled his fingers in the rings at her hips and jerked hard, ripping the thin fabric from the metal. The remnants that he tossed aside represented Hattie's last resistance, if indeed she had any.
She was drunk on memories laced with present passion.
A nanosecond later he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The intimate position made her limp with longing. He backed her up to the nearest wall and buried his face in her neck. Tremors shook his large frame. His chest heaved.
Slowly, as if giving her time to protest, he aligned their bodies and entered her with one forceful upward thrust. He was big, but she was ready for him. When he was buried inside her, he went still.
"Hattie?" His voice was hoarse.
"Hmmm?" She bit his earlobe and heard him curse.
"You okay?"
The four-letter word didn't come close to describing what she was. "Don't stop."
"Whatever the lady wants."
The last words were barely audible as he directed all his energy toward driving them both insane. Her bare butt slapped against the door as Luc pounded into her over and over.
A searing heat built inside her, coalesced at the spot where their bodies were joined. Higher. Stronger. The world ceased to exist. Her arms tightened around his neck as she felt the storm begin to break. "Luc … " Stars cartwheeled inside her head and tumbled downward to reignite when Luc's own release sent him rigid and straining against her.
When it was over at last, Luc staggered into their bedroom, still carrying her, and dropped her onto the mattress. He came down beside her and rested his head on her chest.
Her heart stopped. A perfect cocoon of intimacy enveloped them.
She might have slept for a few minutes-she wasn't sure. Luc was out, his body a heavy weight half on top of her. She wanted so badly to stroke his hair, but she resisted. A black hole of self-destruction yawned at her feet. She was far too close to the edge.
Awkwardly, she slid from beneath him and tiptoed to the bathroom. After quickly freshening up, she put on one of the soft luxurious robes that hung on the back of the door. Belting it tightly, she peeked out into the bedroom.
Luc's speculative gaze met hers. "You won't need the robe."
Five simple words. That's all he needed to make the moisture bloom between her legs. She grasped the door frame to steady herself. "I won't?" All the starch had left her legs. She was melting, body and soul.
He crooked a finger. "Come back to bed."
Removing the robe was even more difficult than shedding her swimsuit. In the heat of the moment, her inhibitions had gone on vacation. But now they were back.
As she padded into the room, shivering, she noticed for the first time that the AC had been kicked up a notch. Luc held a string of condom packets in his hand. "We skipped a step. I'm sorry, Hattie. That was my fault."
She shrugged with what she hoped was blasé sophistication. "It's the wrong part of the month. I'm not worried."
His grin was tight. "Then let's not waste any more time."
The robe fell at her feet. Luc's amusement faded visibly to be replaced by sheer male determination. When she shivered now, it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with the man stretched out on his back like a sleek, not-quite-satisfied predator.
Nothing this older, more experienced Luc did was predictable. Instead of covering her with his aroused body, he pulled her on top. It was a position she had never really liked, because it made her feel too vulnerable. But when she tried to protest, Luc took care of that by lightly touching the small bud of nerves at her center.
She braced her hands on her thighs and tried not to flinch as he explored her most private recesses. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, she moaned and climaxed, the second event no less powerful than the first.
He held her close and stroked her hair, though she could feel the strength of his unappeased desire. Tears clogged her throat. "Luc, I … " love you. No, she didn't. It was just the sex talking. Shades of auld lang syne. An overabundance of postcoital hormones.
He kissed her cheek. "You what?"
"I wonder if we made a mistake." She felt him go still.
"Regrets already?"
Something in his tone made her cringe. She shouldn't have introduced reality into their bed. Not now. But she was compelled to answer. "This makes things complicated. When we go our separate ways."
His hands moved from her hair, her shoulders. He shifted her until they lay side by side. Already she missed his warmth.
His tone was perfectly calm when he answered. "You're making too much of nothing. There's no harm in enjoying each other. Divorces are simple nowadays. We'll deal with any complications when we have to. It's nothing to worry about."