Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
Ben,’ she whispered urgently. ‘Please, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be alone.’
He let out a long low groan; he could feel his self-control slipping through his fingers. ‘You’re killing me, Lily. I wish I could, I really do.’ He brushed a tendril of hair from her face and found a spot of cold dampness on her cheek. ‘You’re crying,’ he husked, framing her face between his big hands.
‘Am I?’
She reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘I want to be held.’
His blue eyes were almost black as their eyes locked. ‘I wish I could.’ A man had to know his limitations. And Ben had already gone beyond his. He wanted to comfort her but he knew that if he touched her he wouldn’t stop there—he couldn’t stop there.
‘In the car you kissed me...’
He caught her hand and held it just away from his face.
Her long lashes fluttered downwards and then lifted as she said throatily, ‘I liked it. Could you kiss me again?’
His glance slid to her full lips. Oh, he could kiss her again but it wouldn’t stop there. So what’s so wrong with that? asked the voice in his head.
She wanted, he wanted, they were both consenting adults, so what was holding him back? Precious little, came the answer. When she declared—
‘Ben, please. I want you to make love to me!’
He had no control over his physical response but he could still have walked away; a better man would.
His eyes had darkened to navy; she could feel the tension in his body as the muscle under her fingers tightened and bulged. Her stomach tensed, the muscles clamping in an anticipation that bordered on pain.
‘Actually, I need you to make love to me.’ After all the pretending, even to herself—especially to herself—it was a relief to say it. The depth of the emotions she was experiencing fed into her voice, making it husky as she rushed headlong into an explanation that fell short of actually explaining how she was feeling. ‘I’ve been scared for so long. I just want to feel warm and safe and...’ She paused. Even in the midst of her recklessness, she retained enough caution to conceal some things. ‘Not alone,’ she whispered. ‘Do you know what I mean?’
He nodded slowly, the restraint he held himself under making his hand shake as his fingers touched her face. He intended to just brush her cheek, offering the safest version of the comfort she was asking for. Only once his fingers had made contact it was addictive, the texture of her skin, the thought of her warmth and softness, of sliding into it, into her, losing himself.
His fingers were framing one side of her face when his voice, made abrupt by the internal struggle, made a last-ditch effort to retain control. ‘You’re emotionally and physically whacked. You don’t know what you’re saying.’
She stared at him, disbelief mingling with the sting of utter mortification. ‘Don’t you dare tell me what I know and don’t know!’ she flung back furiously. ‘And don’t pretend you’re being noble and chivalrous—just tell the truth. You don’t fancy me? I can take it. I’ve been rejected by better men than you, you total bastard!’
He caught her hand before it connected with his cheek and he dragged her backwards so that she ended up sideways across the bed, lying full length on top of him, her softness slotting into his angles as though they were a designed fit. But there was nothing designed about this. This was more a collision fuelled by raw instinct and driving, aching need.
‘I only deal in the possible and it is not possible that any man has ever rejected you,’ he slurred, his eyes following the line of her throat down to where her breasts pressed against the cotton top she wore.
Lily, breathless, squirmed, managing to lever herself into a sitting position astride him as she shrilled back, ‘Let me go!’ She felt him shudder and leaned in close again to catch his low words.
‘I’m not the one holding on.’
The fight drained out of her as she shook her head in denial. The bonds of his hot, hungry stare were invisible but held her as firmly as steel chains.
Their eyes remained locked as the intense moment stretched, filled with emotions too complex for her to name. They formed in a deep knot of nameless yearning in her aching pelvis.
He flicked his wrists and caught hers, reversing the role of captor and captured as he jerked her down hard. Lily lost her grip on his shoulders and her elbows gave way. With a soft cry she lay there, her breasts crushed against him, her hair a flaming curtain that fell forward, brushing his chest and face, their own shadowed silken tent cutting out the outside world.
Holding her eyes, he tipped her over, bringing them to lie side by side.
‘You want this?’
She nodded and shivered as he slid his hand to her breast, the breath hissing through her nostrils as she hitched in a sharp breath of pleasure and closed her eyes.
‘I’m going to touch you.’ His words trickled over her like warm honey.
‘Where?’ she whispered back.
He smiled and flicked his tongue across her earlobe. ‘All over.’
‘Truly?’
‘Cross my heart.’ He took her hand and placed it on his chest. Only a thin rim of green remained as her dilated pupils expanded some more.
‘What will you do then?’
‘I’ll taste you.’
Her insides melted. ‘I love looking at you.’
The confession drew a throaty growl as he hauled her hard up against him and fitted his mouth to hers. His lips moved with sensuous skill across her parted lips. By the time his tongue plunged deep she was floating on a sensual sea of pleasure and longing.
He kissed as though he’d drain her. She ought to have been feeling empty, but she felt more alive than she ever had in her life. As she kissed him back, winding her slim arms tight around his neck, she revelled in the feel of his male strength and his hard body.
The kiss was deepened, her small cry lost in his mouth as it went on and on. He was drinking her all and she wanted to just keep giving.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, he looked as shaken as she felt.
‘You sure?’
‘Totally.’
The room was quiet as they undressed each other. There were many pauses along the way to touch and caress, to explore and admire, and when there were no longer clothes they lay down side by side on the bed.
His hand moved down her flank, drawing her leg across his hip as he cupped one perfect breast, stroking the tight, sensitised centre before he bent his head and fitted his mouth to it.
She sighed deeply and sank her fingers into his hair, stroking his scalp through the thick dark pelt. The drift of hair on his body was just as dark. He had a man’s body. As he lifted his head she held his eyes while she ran a finger down the centre of his chest, following the thin dark demarcation line of his body hair over the flat belly and lower.
He groaned as she cupped him, curling her fingers around his erection before she slid slowly down his body, tracing the line her finger had made with her tongue.
He endured her ministrations for as long as he could until with a deep groan he grasped her shoulders. She lifted her head, her passion-filled eyes hot as she responded to his urging and slithered up along his body until they lay face to face, noses almost touching, sealed as close as bodies could get without penetration.
‘My turn.’
‘All over?’
There was a carnal intent in his slow smile as he tipped her onto her back and knelt over her. ‘I never break a promise.’