She went wild, her lush, lithe body bucking against him even as her hands clenched on his hips in an effort to hold him against her. She wrenched her mouth from his, unbuttoned his shirt as she skimmed her mouth down his neck and over his shoulder. He wanted to grab her then, to pull her over him and bury himself deep inside of her. But she deserved more than that, they deserved more than that, and he was determined to make love to her with the slow tenderness he knew she needed. It wasn’t easy, though, and he shuddered with the effort it took to restrain himself.
But this moment, this night after one of the worst weeks of his life—after the worst period of his life—meant more to him than a desperate drive for satisfaction ever could. Sophie was his and he wanted to show her that being with him didn’t always have to be flash and fire, didn’t always have to be a struggle for her to find her balance.
Reaching up, he cupped her face in one of his hands and looked at her. From the little lines just starting at the corner of her glorious eyes to the small scar that ran along the edge of her jaw to the random scattering of freckles that decorated her nose, he memorized her. Pulled her face, pulled her, deep inside of himself where he could hold on to her whenever the reality of his injuries started crashing in on him.
And she let him. Instead of struggling against him or ducking her head or trying to move things along faster, Sophie lay there and let him look. Lay there and watched him as intently and tenderly as he was watching her.
When he couldn’t take it any longer, when his need to be inside her was nearly overwhelming, he stripped her slowly. Kissed and nuzzled and touched every part of her body. And then he moved so that he covered her. So that every part of her body was covered by every part of his. Not to dominate, but to feel every part of her. Not to try to control, but to try to show her how much he adored her.
Bending forward, he kissed the softness of her lips, the corners of her mouth. Traced his tongue along her full bottom lip, lingering at the cute little indention in the center of her lopsided upper lip. She was like the richest, smoothest velvet, so much softer and sweeter than he ever imagined a woman could be. So much hotter than he had dreamed his wife would be. And she would be his wife, even if she hadn’t agreed yet. On everything else he could compromise, but not on this. He wanted a family with her. He wanted everything with her.
Her hands clutched at him, tried to pull him closer, but he clasped them in his own, kissing each of her fingers. He wanted to be gentle this time, to give her the tenderness she deserved. But the second she moved against him, he was lost. Lust rose, sharp and terrible and all-consuming. He ignored it, beat it down, kissed her some more. He was unwilling to give up her lips, unable to break the connection when everything inside of him clamored to be a part of her. To make her a part of him.
He didn’t lift his mouth until she whimpered, gasped for air. Only then did he relinquish her lips, skimming his own down her cheek and over the long, graceful curve of her neck to the delicate bones of her shoulders. How could she be so fragile and yet so strong?
Then he forgot everything but the ecstasy of being with her as he licked and kissed his way over every inch of her body one more time. He explored the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, the back of her knee. Then tickled her ribs with his tongue before moving between her legs and tasting her. Feasting on her. Claiming her.
He slid his tongue over her sex, once, twice, loving the spicy scent and taste of her. Slipped inside of her and stroked her from the inside as her hands clutched at his hair, his shoulders.
Ran his tongue over and around the hard button of her clit as she sighed and moaned.
And then, with a quick flick of his tongue and a stroke of his fingers, he brought her to climax. Pulling back, desperate to see her, he stroked his thumb over her, intensifying Sophie’s orgasm even as he watched her take her pleasure. Her back bowed, her hips moved languorously against his thumb, and her skin flushed a pretty pink that called to him, urging him to take her. To take all of her.
“Jack!” It was a plea and they both knew it. “I want you.”
“You have me,” he murmured, sliding first one finger and then another into her, nearly losing it at the unbelievable perfection of her body. She was tight, hot, her muscles clenching in a rhythm he could feel resonating all the way through him.
Suddenly he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. Rolling onto his back, he reached into the nightstand by Sophie’s bed and pulled out a condom. After rolling it on quickly, he pulled Sophie over him and, with his hands on her hips, gently guided her onto him.
She cried out as he sank into her, arched her back and clutched at his hands until he twined his fingers with hers. Something about that connection, that joining of Sophie’s hands with his own as she rode him, sent him right up to the edge of his control.
Fighting to hang on, never wanting the feelings to end—never wanting the closeness between them to dissipate—he clung to sanity even as her breath grew quicker and her movements more frantic. He reveled in the feel of her around him, rejoiced in the slight pressure of her warm weight on his stomach as she slowly moved herself over him.
“Jack,” she moaned breathlessly and he knew it was a plea, knew she was close to shattering again. And he loved it. How could he not when he was the one benefitting from her glorious, unselfish passion?
Slipping his hands around her hips, he cupped her gorgeous, round ass in his hands. She gasped, arched, but she didn’t deny him and as he slid his finger inside of her, he whispered, “Let it take you, my sweet Sophie. Let it have you.”
And she did, her back arching above him like a bow as the waves exploded through her. Her sex clenched around him again and again, pulling him deeper. Taking him home.
At the last minute she leaned down and brushed her lips over his as her gorgeous green eyes looked deep into his own. That was all it took, those moments of connection so deep and profound that he couldn’t help feeling like they would be tangled together forever.
With a moan, he let himself go, and the release that swept through him was so strong, so powerful, that for a moment it was like death itself.
“I love you, Sophie,” he said as the orgasm swamped him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered in his ear.
And that’s when he knew. No matter what had happened in their pasts, no matter what happened in their future, he and Sophie and the boys would face it together.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459227781
Copyright © 2012 by Tracy L. Deebs-Elkenaney
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