Darling Annie

by Raine Cantrell

  Her head tossed wildly back and forth with the need she had to know, but he wouldn’t release her mouth. The unexpected heaviness and hardness of his body that her own instinctively cradled sent streamers of fire streaking through her. When he finally lifted his head, his breath hissed out from between his teeth. Annie raised eyelids suddenly heavy to look up at him, defenseless against the blazing passion in his eyes.

  “I’ve never wanted another woman until I shook with need,” Kell whispered, his voice rough with his own arousal. He gazed from her mouth to the fierce pulse beating in her throat down to the taut nipples pressing up against the thin white cloth of the chemise.

  She turned her face and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Her hand moved without thought to the buttons that allowed cloth to hide the skin she wanted to taste. Kell instantly leaned to the side, his smile hot, wholly male and enticing when Annie touched the first button.

  In the end he had to help her, for her fingers shook. His soft, knowing laughter at her sudden impatience sent her shyness fleeing.

  Kell tossed his shirt aside, turning back to take her mouth in a hard, quick kiss. Annie’s murmur of protest made him reluctantly pull back, but her lips sliding against his shoulder made his breath ragged.

  “Christ, Annie! You’ll burn me alive.”

  “You don’t want me to…” Glazed with passion, her eyes met his.

  As much as Kell wanted to hear the words from her, he knew he was asking too much. “Go ahead. Kiss me, Annie. Touch me. I’d kill to have that hot, sweet mouth all over me. Anywhere, Annie,” he added, seeing the shock and the sensual curiosity in her deep blue eyes. “That’s how I’m going to taste you. All over. Until I taste like you and you taste like me.”

  And he forced himself to lie down, locking his hands behind his head to stop himself from pulling her hard against him.

  This time he expected the first tentative touch of her lips. He wasn’t surprised by the tiny lick of her tongue nuzzling his neck. The shock should have been there, but if Annie was even half as aroused as he was, she couldn’t stop. And if he had learned anything at all about her, Annie never did anything halfway. She murmured her pleasure, kneading his chest, her fingers sliding through the wedge of soft blond hair. His breath stuck in his throat. With the same exquisite care, Annie bit him, soothing the tiny mark with a hot foray of her tongue. His fingers ached with the demand he made not to move, not to grab hold of her and shift her beneath his hard, hungry body.

  The need to touch her was violent, seething through him with every damn-near-purring sound she made. The silky drag of her hair against his body made him tighten like a bow. The hard peaks of her breasts burned his chest when she found and caressed his own nipple to a tiny, aching point. Pleasure had never been such agony. He wanted the sweet, lush weight of her breasts in his hands. His teeth were almost grinding together with the need he had to taste and suckle and tease her until she cried out.

  Needs. They shimmered, heated and coiled, multiplying until he couldn’t bear more. But all he did was slide his right hand beneath the weight of her hair, holding her mouth against him while his left stroked her back from nape to waist, drawing her closer to the growing heat of his body.

  Annie was lost in discovering the different textures and tastes of Kell’s body. She wasn’t aware of shifting her legs to accommodate his powerful thigh. Annie was driven by the unabated fever that consumed her. Her body rocked to the slow, thrusting rhythm of his, a new tightening taking hold of her so that she moaned with the ache of it.

  Kell smiled against her hair, the primal ripple of her response to every caress telling him her whole body had now become sensitized to passion.

  Rough and husky, his voice praised her, feeling the slow, seeping, sweet heat of her dampening the rigid muscle of his thigh. His hands shaped the flare of her hips, his fingers flexing deep, rewarded with a shudder that swept her until he caught fire from it.

  He never knew that pleasure this intense could kill, but he wouldn’t deny he was dying by inches. He bit her gently on the curve of her shoulder when she focused her attention to turning his other nipple into another hard point. Like a brushfire, he burned from every place they touched, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be until he buried every aching bit of flesh so deep inside her he wouldn’t know where he began and she ended.

  With slow pressure, he eased her hips over until she cradled him and the heat of her was a new flame that made his hands shake. He waited for her retreat, had been unconsciously waiting all this while, but when Annie rubbed her cheek in approval against his chest, he slowly gathered her close, sliding her up his body, ignoring the pleasure-pain of his own need.

  Slipping his tongue between her lips, he mated his mouth with hers, turning her until she lay beneath him. He trailed kisses to the dainty curve of her ear, biting the lobe, her ragged breath and the tightening of her fingers on his shoulders all he wanted from her.

  “My turn, Annie,” he whispered, closing his teeth delicately around one of her nipples. He could almost feel the streak of pleasure that ripped through her, arching her up against him in sexual reflex. And Kell arched his body into her, raising his head to watch her while he opened the small ribbon tie, dipping down to kiss the flesh revealed with each lace that he tugged free until she lay exposed to him.

  A spattering of golden freckles lay across the pale skin of her breasts, nipples tight with hunger, a deep rose that begged attention. But Kell saw the heated flush that stained her cheeks, the instinctive move she made to cover herself before she looked up and stopped.

  “More lovely than I dreamed about, Annie.” He heard the husky approval in his voice, his lips warm as he pressed a kiss to one peak then the other.

  Annie gasped. Something deep inside burst into fire and she forgot that she had never let any man see her, had never thought to give herself to any man this way. There had been passion, and male approval, in Kell’s eyes. She cried out again when he skimmed the curves of her bare breasts. Once more he bent to take her into his mouth, and heat pulsed through her with each sweet move of his tongue. She heard the cries and knew they were hers, just as she understood that hunger was reaching a new peak, demanding a release. She wanted to tell him, wanted to call out, but her breath was lodged in her throat.

  Kell felt the change in her heartbeat, heard the ragged breaks in her breathing, and he took her more deeply into his mouth, tugging on her rhythmically, shaping her to his intimate demands until the shyness was burned away.

  Passion lived in her voice calling his name, begging for an end to the coil of tension that held her.

  And he knew if he didn’t slow down, he would take her too fast, hot and deep, and lose the gift of seeing her come apart for him.

  She twisted slowly beneath him, tiny wild sounds forcing him to stifle a groan. Like hammer blows, desire fought him for control. Blood, thick and hot, surged as he soothed and teased her breasts with the same skilled motion. He suckled harder, knowing she was too aroused to feel a lighter touch.

  He had promised her pleasure. Promised that she wouldn’t be shaking when this was over. Stupid promises. He was being torn apart to keep them.

  “Kell, please…”

  “I’m here, right here, Annie.” He rose, tugging the strap of the chemise off her shoulder, scattering kisses over her bare flesh.

  “No one … told me,” she cried out. “They didn’t say it was like this.”

  “Tell me, Annie,” he coaxed, stroking the restless shift of her body with one hand, clutching the quilt with the other. “Tell me what it’s like for you.”

  Chapter 18

  Annie’s eyes opened slowly and she looked at Kell. Passion had flushed the high curves of his cheeks. His eyes were a dark, near black-green, glittering and hot watching her.

  “Tell me,” he whispered, still and waiting.

  “Like a storm.” She licked her lip, his gaze so intense it demanded nothing but honesty
from her. “Wild thunder and heat lightning. All hot promise without relief.”

  “Then we’ll make it rain, Annie. A hot, silky rain that will end the storm.”

  “Yes. Now.” The words and demand were hers. And she knew, even before he dipped to kiss her that it wouldn’t be now. So she poured her longing, her need into a kiss that he broke with a muttered curse.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. And I want to sweep over you like that storm taking—”

  “Kell,” she whispered, her fingertips silencing him. “I’m twenty-eight years old. ‘Spinster’ is such an ugly name and so is ‘old maid.’ How much longer must I wait to know what it feels like to make love to a man?” Her fingers trailed down his chin, one barely touching the pulse in the hollow of his throat before both hands caressed the damp pelt of hair wedging his chest.

  She rimmed the pebble-hard nipple, a slight smile of feminine satisfaction curving her lips when his breath broke and he muttered a few choice swears. Annie lifted one of his hands and drew it down to the curve of her belly. “I hurt, Kell. Here. Deep inside. And I trust you,” she added softly, holding his gaze with her own. “You could never hurt me. I know that. You’re a man, not a boy. You would never use your strength against me. You never have.”

  Her trust was a gift more brilliant than the passion that flared between them. Every word carried her truth, it was in her eyes, and it snapped the leash on the savage need that clawed at him.

  Kell came off the bed in a rush, kicking off his boots. Annie rolled to her side watching him, her long hair shielding her breasts. White cotton drawers covered the sleek curves of her legs, but he saw the restless, telltale signs and found his hands shaking with the need to stroke her thighs, to tangle his fingers in the fire-gold hair at the apex of her legs, learning the heat and hunger of her.

  He tried to slow down, remembering all too well Annie’s threat to expire in this room the first time he held her beneath him. But Annie wasn’t expiring. She watched him with half-closed eyes, her fingers curled tight around the quilt. Kell slid the first button free. Her gaze burned a path over his body until he couldn’t hide the shudder of pleasure that rippled over him.

  “You’re so beautiful, Kell.”

  “Not me. You.”

  “Would it shock you to know that I dreamed about you?”

  The second button bounced to the floor. Annie’s eyes drifted closed and she curled her legs tighter. “Every time you touched me, each time I saw you, I dreamed. And you’re wrong, Kell. You’re all male power like a lightning storm.”

  Kell ripped the remaining buttons free and kicked off his pants. He fought to use every calming ritual that Li had taught him as every word and sigh shredded whatever rational thoughts he had left.

  “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, Annie,” he whispered, one knee on the bed.

  “I’m not afraid. I want you too much.” And she prayed he wouldn’t know what it cost her to fight the first stirring of fear as he gathered her close to his hot, hard body.

  “Kell, I don’t want to wait anymore to know.”

  “That’s all I’ve been waiting to hear.” He bent and brushed his lips over hers, the curve of her chin, the hollow of her throat, drawn to nuzzle aside the tangled curls of her hair and find the taut dusky-rose tips of her breasts. Soft, wild cries came from her, cries that fed him as he smoothed the thin cotton drawers from her, his hands as gentle as he could order them. His hand bunched the damp cloth between his fingers, pulling it away from the hot secrets he longed to claim for his own.

  When Annie felt the last protection she had slide down her legs and the heat and hardness of Kell’s thigh rubbing against her, fear reared once more. There would be no turning back. She loved him, but not once had those words escaped his lips. No promises. Her legs clamped together, trembling as need and fear waged war for dominance.

  ’Teasing me, Annie?”

  “No. I—”

  “It’s all right. I like the way you tease.”

  “But I’m not, Kell.” His hand stroking down her leg, only to return to shape the dip of her waist and flare of her hip both calmed and aroused her.

  “Annie, love,” he noted softly, passion and laughter in his voice, “one of us is sure as hell being teased. Give me your mouth. I need to be inside you. Now, Annie.”

  She gave him her mouth, just as the unconscious, graceful shift of her hips gave her body to his caressing hands. With every shudder that racked Kell’s body, Annie felt an answering one deep inside her. She clung to him, moving with him, her breath shortened when he stroked the warmth of her inner thigh. His voice was rough, husky with arousal, coaxing her.

  His hand curled around her, holding her intimately, and drew a startled gasp of pleasure from her. His murmuring sounds of approval, the heated love bites he soothed with the heat of his tongue before he claimed her mouth again and eased his long fingers between her legs, brought a broken cry from her.

  Annie tried to catch her breath, it broke, caught and broke yet again as Kell gently traced her layered softness, praising the damp heat that had her burrow against him. He teased her until her hands moved restlessly over him, fingers combing the silky wedge of male hair that covered his chest. Her short fingernails scraped over hard male nipples. His groan sent her hands searching lower, needing to know that he was as caught as she by the passion’s web that was both pleasure and pain.

  Her hands shaped power; hard, damp, male skin.

  Kell moved gently, rocking against flesh that melted against him. The heat of her response, her broken cries, had him kissing her again. He drank her throaty sounds of passion that called to him in a siren song older than time.

  Annie felt the hot, gliding penetration of Kell’s tongue and his finger at the same time. Shimmering heat seemed to gather itself inside her. She tossed her head from side to side, breaking their kiss, defenseless to stop the sudden shudder that claimed her body.

  “Kell,” she cried, feeling the strange, tiny convulsions building again. “I—”

  The word was lost as another tremor, then another shook her body as he deepened the twin caresses, pleasuring and exploring her with slow movements until all thought of shyness fled in the grip of enthralling passion. He skimmed the edges of her softness, probing sweetly, discovering the aching nub hidden between sleek, silken folds, rubbing slowly, hotly, stealing her breath, her thoughts.

  Annie twisted against him, straining to know more of the desire she felt, but it wasn’t enough, it was driving her mad. Kell was driving her into a world she had never known, never dreamed of, gently stealing into her, retreating, only to return and send shimmering lightning through her.

  Ignoring the violence of his own unsatisfied need was nearly impossible. Watching Annie come apart was the only pleasure he allowed himself. Every breath he took was scented with her fragrance, warmed by the heat of her body, a body that made him burn. He’d never been driven to claim and possess every cry he could call from her, to increase the intensity of her body’s response to the hot, intimate caress of his hand.

  The tight rosebud begged for his mouth and Kell bent his head to her. Patience stretched thin, he tasted her, making her shudder repeatedly with each soft stab of his tongue, each gently restrained caress of his teeth. This was for Annie, he understood that now, for he could never give this gift again to her. Her fervent pleas incited him to tease her, urging her deeper and deeper, drawing the tension tighter and tighter as his thumb slid over the sleek, hard nub of desire he called from her heated softness.

  She rewarded him with the litany of his name that broke repeatedly, the frantic moves of her hands drawing him closer until the tiny convulsions began, and she melted for him like a hot, sweet rain that scored every nerve in his body.

  Nearly stripped of his control, Kell gathered her tight, fighting himself, wanting the pleasure never to end, needing it to, just so he could begin again.

  Defenseless against the storm shaking
her, Annie held on to his sweat-sheened body, the only solid presence in a world that shimmered with too many sensations to understand. She heard the sounds that rippled from her, husky with passion, and curled against Kell as he stroked her trembling body with hands that shook, kissing her until she drew even breaths.

  She wanted to see him, and her lashes stirred and finally with effort lifted, revealing eyes near black with desire. She almost lost her breath watching him. His cheeks were stained with heat, the wicked curve of his lips drew her own to press a kiss there, and his eyes, when he slowly opened them to look down at her, held sin and heaven within them.

  The caress of his hand shaping her back soothed her and yet started the tension to coil again. “Kell,” she whispered, licking her lips from a too dry mouth, “words aren’t any good, are they?”

  “Pleasure, Annie. That’s all I can say. Watching you fills me with pleasure. Touching you is pleasure.”

  “And me?” she asked, cupping his cheek. “Does my touching you bring you pleasure too?”

  “Annie, if it gets any better, I’ll do the expirin’.”

  Her lips curved with feminine satisfaction, and Kell stole the smile with his lips, taking the generous giving of her mouth and giving back a sexual excitement that made her cry out when he lifted his head.

  “I taste like you,” she murmured, closing her eyes as a shimmering wave crested inside her and the tremors began again. “But no one really dies from this.”

  “I’m coming close, my love.” Kell settled her beneath him, smiling when she instinctively cradled his violently aroused flesh. “Annie. Annie look at me,” he demanded softly, huskily, taking both her hands in his and nestling them on either side of her head. “There’s a little death, Annie. One that’s born in fire.” He rocked his body against hers, dipping his head to take her mouth, leaving her whimpering when his lips trailed down the arched slender line of her throat and took one taut peak in his mouth. He shaped her with the changing pressure of teeth and tongue, loving her responsive flesh, groaning with the clenching of her thighs, the sudden arching of her back, and tremors racked her body once more.