Chapter 10 #2
“I can’t. Now. I want you now,” she whispered, and placed her hand over his erection.
Boldly, she caressed him, but soon the denim interfered with her exploration.
She tore open the button of his jeans eagerly, but the strength of his arousal forced her to go much more slowly when she lowered his zipper.
He covered her hand, pressing it against him for a moment before he groaned and moved it away.
“Later,” he said, hooking his hands in her jeans and jerking them down, along with her panties.
“We’ll go slow later.” He stood and shoved his own jeans down over his hips while she watched, sprawled on the couch and feeling more wanton than she ever imagined.
When he stood naked before her she whispered, “Oh, Lord,” and stretched out a hand to touch him.
He smiled, but as she stroked him, her caresses growing bolder, his expression tightened.
Impatiently, he brushed her hands aside to lie between her thighs, his sex warm and heavy against hers.
He took her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes, then kissed her deeply, his tongue mimicking the slow, rocking rhythm of his hips against hers.
Long moments later, he heaved a tortured groan, and she felt him shift.
His hand dropped away from her face to dangle off the couch.
“What’s wrong?” Was that her voice? That breathless, achy sound?
“Nothing. If I can just find—” He stretched his arm farther back just as she rose to see what he was doing, and they tumbled onto the rug with a thud.
“Damn!” Devlin swore.
“What happened?” Lucky for her, she’d landed on top of him. His stifled groan made her wonder if he’d smacked his head against the table, or it could have been her elbow that had landed in his stomach.
“We fell off the couch.” Moving her aside, he grabbed his jeans and pulled his wallet from the hip pocket.
“Here.” He handed her a foil packet and glared at the coffee table butting up against them.
“This has got to go,” he said, and shoved it back several feet.
It teetered, the glass top shaking, but then settled into place without turning over.
Gabrielle bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling and fumbled with the condom. Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate, and she looked up at him apologetically. “I can’t get it?—”
He grabbed the small package from her and ripped it open. “I can,” he said, and took care of it while his smoldering gaze lingered on her body like a touch.
Suddenly shy, Gabrielle closed her legs together. It was crazy, after what they’d been doing to each other leading to this moment, but actually making love seemed such a final step.
“Hey,” he said softly, kneeling beside her. “Change your mind ?” His large, warm hand slipped between her legs, gently urging them apart. He waited, his hand covering her, caressing the core of her desire.
“Um—” She could hardly breathe, let alone talk. “No.”
“Good,” he said, and kissed her. Seconds later, his shaft pressed against her heated flesh, against the ache raging within, then he slid into her slowly, letting her feel each spectacular inch of his entry until he was imbedded deeply inside her.
He buried his face in her neck, and she heard his ragged breathing, felt the tenseness of his muscles as he waited for her to adjust to him.
A tenderness she couldn’t explain stole over her, and she wrapped her arms tighter around him, fighting the emotion that threatened to engulf her.
He pulled out of her, waited a heart-stopping beat, and surged back inside.
Gabrielle dug her nails into his back, lifting her hips to meet his and tightening her legs around him.
The tempo of his thrusts quickened, then slowed, then quickened again until she felt the storm peak, the moment before all hell, or heaven, breaks loose.
Wave after wave of excitement swept her up, tumbling her over and over, then her climax rolled through her hard, fast, and shattering.
Devlin moaned her name. His name broke on her sigh.
His release shuddered through him as he spent himself deep inside her.
Lost in love, she held tight while their last tremors died away.
* * *
Exactly when had he lost his mind? Devlin wondered some time later.
They lay on the rug, too lazy to move, with Gabrielle snuggled in the curve of his arm.
He was spent, satisfied, and dammit, he wanted her again.
Every moment they made love he’d been intensely aware that it was Gabrielle he held, Gabrielle he kissed, Gabrielle who responded so ardently to his touch.
Gabrielle who touched him, kissed him, made love to him.
It hadn’t been just fantastic sex. It had been fantastic because it was Gabrielle.
What lunacy had come over him? He’d not only committed the ultimate folly of falling in love with her, but he’d told her about it.
Opened his mouth and let out the riskiest confession of his life.
Devlin knew what women did with that kind of knowledge.
They used it, and God help the man who gave them the edge.
He looked down at her hand resting trustingly on his chest. She wasn’t like that, he thought, caressing her bare back and hip. Or was that just wishful thinking?
She chose that moment to raise up on her elbow and look at him. “Regrets?” she asked softly.
Her dark hair hung down, the ends brushing against his chest with a soft, ticklish feeling.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her eyes slumberous.
She looked like a woman who’d just been well loved.
And she was so beautiful, it almost hurt him to look at her.
“I think that’s my line,” he said huskily. “But no. No regrets.”
“You look awfully serious.”
He picked up her hand and kissed each knuckle. God, he had it bad. “What about you?”
Her eyes softened even more. She seemed as bemused as he was. “No.” She shook her head. “No regrets.”
“Good.” He slid his hand through her hair to the back of her head, bringing her mouth down to his. “Because I want you again.” He kissed her, pulling her naked body on top of his, and she flowed over him like a sigh, a whisper, a dream.