The Awakening Page 21

Watching his golden eyes grow hotter, almost liquid, she rubbed the mango over her nipples in slow, deliberate circles, then in a wider pattern over the curve of her breasts. Her breasts seemed to swell with the attention, aching for him. She held the fruit to his mouth, watched him suck it inside without breathing. Her lungs refused to cooperate. She pressed her body tightly against his knee, rubbing like a cat, seeking a measure of relief.

Brandt leaned in to kiss her again. “Thank you, honey.” The three words were said against her throat. Maggie closed her eyes as his teeth skimmed her sensitive skin. His lips traced a path to her breasts. Everything stilled inside of her. Waiting. Longing. Needing. He huffed out his breath, blowing warm air over her nipples. Her body wound even tighter.

His hair spilled across her arm, over her skin, brushing tiny flames over her. And then she felt his tongue. A tiny stroke. A light caress. She jumped. Her hips shifted restlessly. Maggie closed her eyes, savoring the pleasure as his tongue began to lick and lap slowly at the fruit juice. It was designed to drive her out of her mind and it did. She caught his head in her hands to hold him to her breast, thrusting into the hot, moist cavern.

Brandt closed his mouth around her offering, sucking strongly. She cried out, writhing against him, her body brushing against him, a thousand points of flames. Her arms dragged him closer. Maggie threw back her head, jutting more fully into his assault, while wave after wave of sensation rushed from her breasts to her belly in a fireball.

He bent her backward slowly until she was resting on the mattress, sprawled beneath him while his mouth pulled strongly and his hands claimed her body for his slow exploration. His strength was enormous—she felt it in the smooth ripple of muscle beneath his flesh. Unable to resist, Maggie traced her hands over him, each angle and plane, the ridge of his muscles, wanting to feel his thickness in her hands.

Brandt had other ideas. “I’m going to shatter if you do that,” he admitted, his hands moving over her rib cage, her small waist to her belly. He loved the smooth expanse, the way her hipbones felt beneath his fingertips. Her curls were nearly as fiery as her core, bright and hot and waiting for him to dip his thumb through them.

She jumped, catching at his hands. Brandt ignored the restraint and pushed her thighs more fully open. “Let yourself go, Maggie,” he said softly. “There’s only the two of us. I was made for you. To love you, to bring you pleasure.” His finger stroked over her damp core, swirled inside to find her hot and slick with need. “Am I bringing you pleasure, Maggie?”

“You know you are.” So much so she couldn’t think straight.

“Maggie, it’s me you want, not just anyone,” Brandt said, his golden eyes suddenly fierce. His finger plunged deep, so that she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand. “Say it, Maggie, say it’s only me you want.” He reveled in the feel of her muscles clenched around him, but he had to know it was for him. She had to give herself to him fully. Her body wasn’t enough for him, it would never be enough. Maggie was his other half, a woman born to be his best friend, his companion, and a lifelong partner. Their sexual chemistry was a huge bonus, but it wasn’t enough. She had to want him.

Her green eyes went wide as he pushed two fingers deep, stretching her, wanting her tight body to accept his easily. “Say it, Maggie, I need to hear you say it.”

“Who did you think I wanted?” she gasped, nearly coming up off the bed. She was certain she wasn’t going to live through wanting him.

“Say you’ll stay with me, live with me, Maggie, learn to love me, here in the rain forest where you were born.” He bent his head to her soft, taut belly, so firm and flat, his palm lying across her thatch of curls. As he lapped gently at her sexy belly button, he pushed his fingers deeper inside of her, closed his eyes as her body clamped down in response.

“I want to be here with you, Brandt. I longed to come here,” she admitted. He was driving her out of her mind. “Please…” The word broke from her, a soft gasp of need. The waves of pleasure were so intense, Maggie had to struggle to stay grounded in reality. “What about protection, Brandt? You said I could get pregnant.”

His teeth nipped her belly, his tongue swirled and caressed. “Right here, Maggie. Our child would grow here in your belly. My child.” His teeth nipped again. “Would that be a terrible thing for us? To have a child together?”

There was seduction in his whisper, a temptation. Maggie had always craved a family and had been so lost without one. His whisper spoke of permanency, of commitment. She was so tempted with her body going up in flames. She couldn’t think straight with wanting him. She didn’t want him to stop but she needed time with him, to know him inside and out. There was the blaze of possession in his eyes, a ruthless stamp to his mouth and an insatiable sexual hunger in him when he looked at her, when he touched her. He was thoughtful, protective, intelligent, and had a sense of humor—but was that enough to really know him?

His fingers slid out of her and his teeth nipped a little lower, his soft laughter against her curls. “Our males stimulate the females into pregnancy, honey; you don’t operate exactly like a human. I just wanted you to know, I wouldn’t mind my child growing deep inside of you. I wouldn’t mind your breasts full with milk.” He smiled again, self-assured, no longer looking vulnerable, but intensely masculine. “I’m a cat, after all. But waiting until you know me, until you trust me, is essential. I’ll be very careful, I promise.” He lifted his head and looked at her, his golden eyes gleaming. “Don’t move, baby, just lie still for me,” he whispered, his hands parting her thighs. “The first night you were here, in my bed, I sat in that chair and dreamt of this. Of how you would taste.” He lowered his head.

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