"This is not a door we should open."
"Too late," she moaned before she kissed him, pressing herself harder, wedging between his spread thighs. Her left hand explored his throat, his right shoulder, then down to his chest.
He groaned and slid his hand down her spine to enfold her buttocks and mash her to him. The heat of her center seared through his clothes, and he tensed when her right hand skimmed over his scarred shoulder hidden in silk, his chest, then she removed it. He was almost disappointed, yet as the pulse of desire drummed between them, he realized she had her right hand braced at his spine. The caring motion made something shatter inside him. He kissed her harder, tearing at the sash of her robe, spreading the fabric and closing his hand over her breast, feeling her nipple tightening against his palm. He caressed her soft flesh and she purred, pushing into his touch. Then she flipped the buttons of her top. He finished the last two, shoving the fabric off her shoulders and exposing her. His gaze raked her naked flesh as he lowered his head. She leaned back, draped over his arm in open invitation. He closed his lips over her nipple, drawing deeply.
She cried out, a soft breathy sound of pure passion. Her fingertips dug into his shoulder.
He laved and suckled, licked quick, hot circles around her nipple, then devoured her breasts like a starved man at a regal feast. Her flesh tasted of lemons and sweetness, flawless, and the moon's glow scattered over her naked breasts. He raked his teeth across the tender underside, and her breathless pants fueled his desire. And he wanted to give her pleasure, wanted to hear that womanly rush of rapture.
Wanted her.
"I need to touch you. You are so warm and soft. Oh, sweet—" He choked when her fingers circled his nipple. He sank to the carpet, taking her with him and laying her open to his touch.
Laura clasped him to her, his body a shadow against the moonlight spilling down onto them as he kissed her wildly, his head shifting to take more and still more. And she was willing to give.
"Say stop and I will," he said against her mouth.
She drew his hand to her breast. "If you stop now I'll beat you."
He chuckled and took her mouth again, savage and hot, then licked a line down her throat, around her nipples, paying homage to each before moving lower.
Her muscles jumped beneath his touch, and anticipation swept through her as his hand dove beneath the band of her pajamas slacks.
He found her, warm and slick, and he parted the delicate flesh, then pushed a finger inside.
She came off the carpet, her cry pealing around him. She gripped fistfuls of his shirtsleeves, urging him on top of her. He wouldn't go, stroking her harder, deeper, dragging her toward a shattering climax. She undulated with each thrust and draw, gasping, and he savored each sound and scent and touch.
She was a wild creature, telling him how good he made her feel, how much she'd wanted this and wanted him to touch her.
"Come on, my beauty, take it." His lips were near her ear, his words more of a breath than a whisper. "I want to feel you split apart for me."
"I am, I swear," she groaned deep in her throat, riding his hand.
"Not enough."
Suddenly he was off her, and her slacks were gone and he was pushing her thighs apart. He jammed one broad hand beneath her hips and lifted, his mouth covering her softness as his fingers thrust into her. Laura cried out, her hips responding, and heat rose and burned though her, a cyclone of desire pulsing out to her limbs. His tongue circled, his lips tugged and Laura felt the pressure inside her build and build, drawing her tight and hard.
Richard could feel it, the tightening of delicate muscles, the claw of her body desperately reaching for the summit, and he loved it, every sensation she experienced rippling through him and letting him own it. He wanted to be inside her, claiming her, but she could never be his. Never. He couldn't make love to her in the dark, like a prowling creature. She deserved better, deserved more from a man. He could only give her this.
So he did, wrapping his lips around the bead of her sex and sucking gently as he thrust his finger in and out of her body.
It hit her instantly. The wild pump of pleasure convulsing through her and into him. His body flexed as hers did, the luxurious spread of her satisfaction crushing through him and threatening his control.
All she could gasp was "I'm dying," over and over as rapture throbbed through her. The spin and crash of it left her shaking and Laura had barely caught her breath before he was hovering over her, kissing her, his hand still rubbing, drawing out the last pulses of pleasure. She clamped her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily, ignoring the sudden tensing in his shoulder, ignoring the fact that he clearly didn't want her touching him.