Burning Wild Page 113

He thrust into her body, driving through her soft folds, needing to be deep within her, to feel her surround him, skin to skin, the hot flames licking up his legs to his thighs, centering in his shaft as he welded them together. “Stay with me, honey. Right with me.” He kept his pace slow, savoring the heat of her, the way he moved inside of her, the way he felt in that moment, almost as if their souls slid against each other. “Give me your hands.”

He bent his body over hers, and when she held up her hands, he wove his fingers tightly through hers and stretched her arms over her head, holding her beneath him, covering her, blanketing her, his body driving deeper, wanting to touch her inside as deeply as she touched him.

Her hips picked up his rhythm as he rode her, rising to meet each hard thrust. He was big and he could feel himself bumping against her cervix, pushing deeper, insisting she take all of him. And she did. No matter how much he asked of her, she gave him more. This time he was the one who needed to see into her soul.

“Look at me.” He had to know it was there, real or not. He didn’t even give a damn anymore, he had to see her looking back at him with love in her eyes.

Her gaze met his and he was lost again. Drowning. Whatever he had been before her was gone and only this man—both man and cat; he didn’t know anymore—looked back at him.

“Who am I, Emma?” he challenged softly. “Who’s inside of you so deep I’m part of you. Who am I?”

He surged forward again, plunging through the tight muscles, feeling the fire spread up over his belly, threatening to consume him. Her breath hissed out between her teeth and her eyes glazed, but she didn’t look away. She kept her gaze locked with his.

“Jake. You’re Jake. The man I love with every breath in my body.”

“Can you really love who I am, Emma?” He took another dizzying stroke, watching her eyes go opaque.

“Yes.” Her hips rose to meet him.

“The man and the cat? The rage? The domination? Can you live with that?” He slammed into her hard. Aggressively. Tearing through her silken sheath to bump hard against her cervix.

She didn’t even wince. Instead, she smiled that slow, gentle smile that turned his heart inside out.

“I love everything about you, Jake. Everything. But can you live with me—with this? With me loving you? With you loving me back?”

His eyes burned and his throat closed. He held her pinned beneath him, his body thrusting in and out of hers, while his blood sang and the fire ran up from his belly to his chest, burning over his lungs and heart to consume him. He heard his hoarse shout. Her name. Emma. His life. His world. Emma. That was all. That was everything.

Her muscles clamped down on him, raw silk, alive with heat and fire and something much, much more. He didn’t know what she did to him, only that when he was deep inside her she took him all the way in, to someplace far beyond what he’d ever known or imagined. He heard her soft cries, knew there would be no holding back, and he let himself go, giving himself up to the sheer ecstasy her body provided. He emptied himself into her, feeling the earth-shattering orgasm ripping through her body, through his, so that for that never-ending moment stolen in time, they were one body, one soul.

Jake stayed draped over her, still deep inside her, spent, fighting for air, his body sated and limber, stretched out across hers, his arms caging in her head while he buried his face in the softest part of her neck. His eyes burned, his body shuddering. He held her tight to him, his lips pressed against her pulse while she wept for him. If this was love, whatever was between them, he had no intention of ever losing it.

“Jake.” Emma untangled her fingers from him. His face was wet against her neck. She stroked caresses over his head, not wanting to make him move, but barely able to breathe with his weight pressing her into the wood of the desk. “Are you all right?”

He lifted his head, his hands framing her face. He looked stricken and his eyes seemed wet, but she couldn’t tell if there were tears.

“I swear, Emma, every time I’m in you, the fucking earth moves.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Not one of his usual demanding, take-charge kisses, but a long, lingering, tender kiss that left her weak and shaken.

Jake carefully slid his body from hers, helping her to sit on the edge of his desk. His hands steadied her as she swayed a little. “Can you stand up, Emma?”

“Jake?” Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and used him to pull herself into a standing position. She stood, swaying against him, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her. “Next time, I want a bed. I mean it. No floors, no outdoors, no desks—an actual bed.”

He laughed softly and hugged her to him. “That’s a promise.”

She lifted her face for another kiss. “Sex with you is an adventure, but I’m thinking I might be getting too old for it. Give me a mattress and I’ll be a happy woman.” She looked at the bathroom door. It seemed miles away. “You’re going to have to carry me.”

“What makes you think my legs are working?” he demanded, cautiously straightening to his full height. His golden eyes searched her face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She smoothed the lines of anxiety from his face. “I’ll let you know when you’ve hurt me, Jake.” She slid her arms around his neck and held him to her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should, Emma.” He buried his face in the fall of silken red hair. She smelled of sex and essentially Emma. She smelled like his. “Why don’t you want to marry me immediately?”

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