Wild Fire Page 60
He was relentless, driving deeper and deeper, even when he felt her body clasp his in a viselike grip. He kept surging into her, over and over, burying himself in paradise, while lightning forked over his skin and rockets exploded in his skull. Her sheath pulsed around him and her muscles clamped down again. “Don’t, honey. Don’t move.” His voice was more of a hiss than an actual command. He was certain he was half insane with sheer pleasure.
Her body melted around his, the inferno growing impossibly hotter as he plunged again and again, until he felt every nerve ending he had center in his cock. She stiffened. Her eyes went wide. There was a hint of fear mixed with anticipation. Her eyes went opaque and she dug her nails into his shoulder.
“Conner?” Her voice was soft. Shaky.
He loved her like that, looking at him with that sultry mixture of innocent and siren. Her body rode his, hot liquid bathing him with each thrust of his body. He felt her body gathering, spiraling, the erotic tightening causing the exquisite friction to heighten.
“Close baby, hang on.”
She shook her head frantically as her body coiled tighter, the tension building until she feared she couldn’t stand it. There seemed no release from the terrible coiling heat always building. His shaft slammed into her, driving deep, pushing her up, higher and higher until she was nearly sobbing, half in fear, half in erotic frenzy.
“That’s it, honey, let go. Fly for me. Right now. With me,” he commanded and deliberately bent his head and bit down gently, that soft junction just between her throat and shoulder. It wasn’t where his cat preferred, but it was what her cat liked and he knew she would subconsciously obey, setting her body free to experience the shattering series of orgasms.
He felt her body clamp down, the velvet sheath spasming, rippling, then gripping and milking. He threw back his head and roared his own release. Around them the insects and frogs ceased their nightly chorus and gave them the floor, the sound of their voices rising in lust and love, mingling together to form a deep harmony.
He buried his face in her neck and held her in his arms, absorbing the form and shape of her, the miracle of her. It had been so long since he’d held her, loved her, taken all that she was and given her everything he was. “I missed you.” It was a ridiculous declaration. “Missed her” didn’t begin to cover at all how he felt. He’d been alone no matter where he was, how many others surrounded him. He could barely breathe without her. But that would be even sillier for him to say.
He trailed kisses along her vulnerable throat, all the while listening to her heartbeat, that racing rhythm so satisfactory to him. She was soft and pliant in his arms, her body melting into his. Joined as they were, he could feel every aftershock and the continual grip and release of her muscles around his shaft. He waited until the shudders had calmed and her breath was nearly under control before he gently pulled away from her encompassing heat and allowed her legs to drop to the ground.
Isabeau swayed in his arms and buried her face against his chest. “It’s not supposed to be like that. I lose myself in you.”
“That makes two of us,” he whispered, his teeth tugging at her earlobe. He loved the way she looked after sex, the slight sheen to her skin, her limp sated body, the glazed look in her eyes. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses and her body was flushed and marked by his. He bent his head to the mark between her shoulder and neck and pressed kisses there until he felt her shiver. “We need to go. We’re close to our destination, Isabeau. A safe place to spend the night.”
She lifted her head and blinked at him. “I can hear the sound of water.”
“We’re going to a waterfall I know of. We need to finish up here, honey,” he prompted.
Isabeau smiled up at him even as she slid down to her knees, her arms using his stronger body for support. The pads of her fingers traced over his flat, hard stomach, along the rigid, defined muscles there and then slid around to his buttocks, massaging as she drew him into her. She looked intensely beautiful, her hair disheveled, spilling around her angelic face, her lashes veiling her eyes, and her hands sweeping up his thighs. Just looking at her with the mist rising around her, caressing her breasts and narrow waist, made him semi-hard all over again.
Her mouth was warm and moist, a heated bath of intense love, her tongue like a cat’s velvet rasp as she licked and sucked gently, removing their combined scents, paying special attention to the underside of the broad mushroom head and lapping at the base of his shaft and finally his sac. She always took her time, no matter the situation, no matter where they were. She always shattered him with the way she made him feel so loved as if this small task was the most important thing she could do and she loved and enjoyed doing it for him.
And that always made him as hard as a rock, all over again. Very gently he drew her to her feet, his gaze holding hers captive. As she held him. Not with her body or fantasy mouth. Not even with mind-blowing sex. With this—moments like this one. He took her mouth with his, reveling in the taste of the two of them, that explosive mixture of sin and sex and love and lust. She made him soft inside, and he knew he wanted her in his life for always.
“We’re just getting started, Isabeau,” he warned, his eyes going antique gold and dark, his lust not nearly sated. “I’m going to keep you up all night.”
Isabeau shivered at the look in his eyes. She’d seen it before and when he said he’d keep her up all night, she knew he meant it. He could be brutally attentive, driving her beyond all thought until she was helpless in his arms, unable to do anything but exactly what he wanted. She’d never known anyone could feel the way he made her feel. And she was just discovering her own power. Who would ever have thought she could make a man like Conner Vega shudder and moan, his golden eyes going dark with hunger?