Think About Love

by Vanessa Grant

  "If you're not sure," he growled, "then I'll go for a walk, see about getting another room."

  If they stayed in the same room now, after that kiss, after he'd carried her with his heart hammering and her body trembling....

  "What if I am sure?"

  "Prove it."

  She wished she could see his eyes, wished she could stop her pulse from hammering. She knew there were reasons why this was a bad idea. Earlier, she'd decided it was best to... for them to do this now, tonight. That waiting would....

  There'd been reasons why, but she knew there were a thousand reasons why not. Because he was dangerous, a thousand times dangerous to her.

  She lifted one hand and fumbled with the top button of her blouse.

  "Samantha...."

  The button finally sprung free. Her fingers were steadier on the next one.

  Cal stared at Samantha as she slowly unfastened the buttons of her blouse. She was standing there, staring at him with vulnerable moonlit eyes. He wanted to tell her not to be afraid, that he would protect her, forever.

  He couldn't speak, couldn't get a sound past the swelling in his throat.

  I don't want to lose control.

  But she would. He promised himself she would, that he would show her the joys beyond control, that he would show her everything, here, tonight. Joy... fulfillment... love.

  When her hand dropped away from the buttons, he could see the creamy silk of her flesh between the panels of the open blouse. He wanted to reassure her, to soothe her, but he knew she wouldn't admit her fear, knew he didn't fully understand her unease, could only soothe it with loving.

  He stepped closer, cradled her cheek with his hand. Then he bent and slowly, very slowly, his own heart thundering in his veins, he took her lips with his.

  She opened for him and he slid inside, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers and feeling her sigh. He moved his hand to her throat, felt her heart beat against his palm.

  When he drew back from the kiss, her lips remained parted. He felt his erection throbbing and prayed for time, for control. She'd said she didn't want to be teased, seduced, and he knew that if he took her hard and fast, she would accept his invasion of her body.

  Only sex, and it would be over quickly, leaving her in control. He wanted more.

  He slipped her blouse over her shoulders, watched as silk slid away from her, dropping to the floor.

  "I couldn't sleep last night," he told her in a low voice. "I couldn't get the feel of you out of my mind. Your mouth hungry under mine, the way your breast felt under my hand. I could feel your nipple through your clothes, erect, hard against my palm."

  He saw her tremble, couldn't read her eyes with only moonlight to guide him.

  "Are you cold?"

  She didn't answer, or couldn't. He touched her face, her throat, and the curve of her breast above her lacy bra. She trembled when he touched but stood passive. Yes, she'd said, but this wasn't what he wanted, her body passive, as if submitting.

  He took her hand and replaced it on his chest. "I'm not doing this alone. I'm not taking you. We do this together, or not at all."

  He felt her hand jerk on his chest. "Damn you," she hissed.

  "If you think we can do this without you losing control, I won't let it happen. I promise you, Samantha Moonbeam, we're both going to lose control."

  "No!"

  He feathered his fingers lightly over the curve of her breast, brushed his thumb over the peak, and felt her nipple harden, pressing against his thumb. "I've imagined suckling you so often, your nipple hard in my mouth, drawing you inside...."

  Her nipple was rock hard and he felt the shudder tear through her.

  "Kiss me, Samantha. Now, with nothing held back."

  She shuddered and he drew her closer. Her hands pressed into his chest—to hold him or to push him away? Her mouth parted under his and he felt her fists clench into the fabric of his shirt, but didn't let himself dive into her mouth.

  Slowly, he traced her mouth with his tongue. Then he dipped deeper, learning the shape of her lips where they covered her teeth, the dark sweetness of her tongue as it finally tangled with his. But her body was still passive against his and he drew back, pulling his mouth from hers.

  She made a sound, half whimper and half protest. Then he felt her arms tangle around his neck. Then she was pressing into him, her curves softly firm, hot under the hungry touch of his hands. He tasted her hot mouth as he swept his hands over her back, her hips, the firm curve of her buttocks. He gathered her in, held her against his throbbing erection, and heard her moan against the aching pleasure of her body against his.

  Then she was restless, twisting, her breasts thrusting into his chest and he swept her up and carried her to the bed. He heard her whimper and covered her breast with his hand.

  "Like this?" he asked, drawing his thumb over her nipple, his need tightening as she arched in response to his touch. His woman. Now, tonight, she would understand completely that this was meant to be... that they were forever.

  She was burning, couldn't get her breath. He had to stop touching her like that, had to.... Her breasts throbbed and he wouldn't... she couldn't... his thumbs brushed over her nipples again, too lightly, and she bit back a whimper.

  Then he drew away, his hands so light over her flesh, her midriff, and the underside of her breasts. She reached for him, grabbed iron-hard shoulders and pulled him down, down.

  "No," he said, his voice low against her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth and... oh, God, he was sucking on her earlobe and she... how could it feel so....

  She heard herself moan and she turned her head, needing his kiss, his mouth. She caught his mouth with hers, her hands tight against the back of his neck.

  "Cal, now...just...just do it."

  His laughter was low, soft as he escaped her mouth and pressed lips to her throat. Then he reached up and took her hands from behind his neck and said gently, "I told you, darling. We're going to lose control, both of us."

  He stretched her hands back over her head and held them trapped, his fingers pinning her wrists. She twisted and felt her body arch with the movement, her breasts under the covering of her lacy skin-colored bra thrusting upwards.

  "If you want to be free," he said softly, "all you need to do is ask."

  Then he bent and placed his mouth on her breast, his breath hot through the fabric of her bra. Sensation ripped through her and she closed her eyes.

  Through the bra, he drew her nipple into his mouth, then took it between his teeth. She moaned, a long shudder of sensation. She felt his hands pinning her arms, his fingers around her wrists, felt herself twist and throb under his mouth.

  "Cal... Cal, please...." She couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the aching, needed....

  He took his mouth away from her breast and she moaned.

  "Shall I free you?" he asked softly. He took her mouth then, pulling on her lower lip, sliding his tongue along the sensitive nerves inside. She twisted, needing the hard press of his body against hers, needing... moaning as another wave of tension throbbed between her legs.

  His fingers loosened on her wrists. "Do you want me to let your hands free?"

  Before she could answer, he bent and took her in his mouth again, and she needed... needed his mouth on her skin. His hand on her wrists felt... she fought against his grip and felt her whole body twist against him, felt... now, finally, his hard pressure against her thigh, her belly.

  "Cal, please...."

  He caught her nipple gently between his teeth again and she groaned.

  "Tell me," he said against her. "Tell me exactly what you want."

  "More... please... I need more."

  He released the fastener of her bra with one swift motion. She felt air play over her sensitive nipples, wet from his kisses through the fabric of her bra. She shuddered once before his mouth drew her nipple deep inside and she convulsed.

  Then he must have released her hands bec
ause her arms were tangled around him and he was driving her beyond madness with his fingers on her throbbing nipples, his mouth plundering hers.

  She had to touch him, needed to taste his flesh, his heat, and she fought with the fabric of his shirt until she felt the hot smoothness of his chest and heard the groan ripped from his throat when she grasped his tiny nipple between her fingers and tugged.

  She rolled, or they did, and she was sprawled over him, his erection throbbing against the fork of her body, and she bent her mouth to his nipple and suckled, felt a tight band of need pulse harder as she pulled a moan from him.

  "God, woman... stop or this will be over before it starts." He moved and she was flat on her back on the bed, his thigh pressed against the pulse that beat at the core of her sex.

  "Now," she said, her voice husky with need. "I need you inside me now." She could feel it, the pulse tightening her whole body, consuming it with each beat.

  He covered her mound with his hand, and even through her jeans the sensation was overwhelming. She heard the zipper, felt him strip her jeans away. Then she was naked, with only trembling flesh and the scrap of lace that was her panties.

  She reached for his belt, but her fingers fumbled and he brushed them away.

  "If you touch me, this is going to be over too damned soon." He traced her shape through the silky fabric of her panties and sent her head thrashing on the pillow. Then he slid his fingers under the elastic and into her creamy folds and she convulsed around him with a low, keening moan.

  He stilled, holding her center with his hand still buried in her as her sex gripped him with spasm after spasm.

  His mouth found hers and she felt herself open, felt as if her body lay wide open, his fingers in her, his tongue tangled with hers... as if he possessed her completely and she were only shudders of sensation.

  "Do you have any idea what this feels like," he whispered to her. "Your climax holding me, tightening?"

  The spasms were fainter. She could breathe, almost... if it weren't for the sensation of herself enveloping his fingers. She had to... needed to move, to turn away... hide her face from him.

  "Easy," he murmured, sliding out of her. She heard a sound, her sound. Tried to cut it off, couldn't.

  He pressed her head against his shoulder and held her, stroked her with long, slow caresses from his hands. She felt the shudders ease, felt her body curve to the motion of his hands.

  "Cal, I can't—"

  "Hush." He took her mouth with his and she felt something release deep inside, taking the kiss deeper, further into her.

  Heaven. His mouth on hers, their tongues stroking in long slow caresses. She felt so completely relaxed, so loose, as if her muscles had simply released everything. She let her hands trace the ripple of muscles across his chest, the hard breadth of his shoulders. Then she put one hand on either side of his face and gave herself up to his kiss.

  No one had ever kissed her like this... or she'd never kissed like this. As if it would simply go on forever, as if the only pleasure she needed was simply to have his mouth to explore forever.

  She shifted to reach his cheek with her mouth, then his ear. Earlier, he'd taken her earlobe in his mouth, and she'd....

  She felt the hard pressure of his erection against her hip.

  "Cal? You didn't...? I—"

  "Easy," he murmured. "Kiss me again."

  She opened her mouth and breathed in his scent. Her hands on his naked chest, his mouth, her breasts throbbing, tingling from the memory of his mouth.

  His mouth....

  As if he could feel the sensations deep inside her body, he placed his hand over her breast and she felt the air drain out of her lungs in a long sigh.

  "Samantha?"

  She covered his hand with hers and closed her eyes to hold the sensation tight. "Cal, I want your mouth on me. Kiss my breasts again."

  This time, she gave herself entirely to the sensation of his mouth on her nipple.

  "What do you want?" he asked against her soft flesh.

  "You... everything."

  Then, somehow, he was on his back, sitting against the end of the bed with Samantha facing him, astride his hips, the pressure of his sex throbbing through her panties.

  She wasn't sure when, how, but then they were naked and he was hard against her, little shudders running through her body as he moved. He lifted her breasts and slowly licked the peaks, sending spasms of sensation to her center.

  "I can feel you," he breathed against her hot flesh.

  "When I'm inside you, I'll feel everything." He licked her nipple again and she moaned and twisted against him.

  He took her hips in his hands and her head fell back and she felt him, flesh to flesh, against her entrance. He held her hips and slowly lowered her onto him.

  She couldn't breathe... couldn't... he filled her, pressing hot places inside. She felt Cal, deep inside her, so hot, her thighs gripping as he thrust deeper and her body arched and stretched to accept him.

  She held tight, his mouth... she could die from the pleasure of his mouth suckling her breast as he thrust and she tightened to pull him even deeper, pressure building unbearably. She heard words, her voice, begging him, and he thrust deeper, driving her wild and high, higher, until she couldn't bear it... couldn't stop... would die if he stopped... and deep, deep inside, she shattered and screamed, a long driven scream as she convulsed around him.

  The waves of sensation went on and on, drowning her, as if they would never stop, clutching her body around his hard, hot sex in waves that tore small sounds from her as she felt him grow, filling her beyond full, harsh breath tearing through his lungs. Her body clenched, and he spilled himself into her with a harsh groan of release.

  Afterward, he drew her to his chest and she lay on him, her body drained, her breath coming in uncontrollable shudders. She closed her eyes and felt his heart hammer deep harsh heartbeats that eased only slowly.

  It seemed as if their breathing took her away to a place where time ceased and the only reality was their bodies damply clinging together, hearts beating in tune as the air slowly cooled around them.

  She took his heartbeat with her into her dreams.

  Sometime in the night, she half woke to the sound of his voice gentle in her ear as he moved her. Then she was lying on her side with Cal spooned against her back, his arms wrapped around her and the blankets covering them.

  Much later, when she woke again, the moon had left the sky. She lay in his arms, his breath soft on her shoulder, her body naked in his arms. Then his breathing stilled and she knew he too was awake.

  His hand slid down, over her hip, and she turned in his arms.

  Slower this time, with a deep, aching sweetness that took her up gently until there was only the high cliff and Cal drawing sensation from her body in deep, shattering waves. When he took her, his slow thrusts drove sanity from her. Then faster, harder, more urgently, and he led her past the edge. When she climaxed she felt herself trembling, falling through empty space with only Cal's arms to keep her safe.

  She fell asleep with him still inside her, his arms holding her as if he would never let her go, his breath slowing in the aftermath of their loving.

  The sun woke her, uncomfortably hot through the blankets.

  She turned away from the light, the heat, buried her face in the pillow. She felt stiff, so drowsy she could almost have been drugged. She had to get up and see to Kippy. Change her diaper, get a bottle ready.

  Cal.

  Her eyes flew open.

  She lay alone in the bed, the blankets on his side tossed back. Where was he? She pushed herself up and the blankets fell away. Her breasts felt sensitive, tingling with the memory of his touch, his mouth.

  Deep inside, another memory pulsed. Last night.

  She shoved back her hair—it was a wild tangle, as if she'd spent the night thrashing her head against the pillow.

  Where was he? The bathroom? If he walked out and into this room, found her here—<
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  She wasn't ready. She needed... time. Time and a shower, maybe a long walk.

  Had he gone to get his jacket from the beach?

  She needed to get herself together before she saw him. Right now she felt raw, open, vulnerable.

  He wasn't in the bathroom. She grabbed jeans and another silk shirt—why hadn't she brought any damned sweatshirts?—and locked herself in the bathroom. She scrubbed her hair with shampoo and rinsed the tangles out, washed her body with soap, trying not to remember how his hands had felt on her.

  She damned well wasn't going to stand in this shower, fantasizing him in here with her, his hands caressing her as he slowly washed her with foamy soap. He would smooth the suds over her breasts, stare down at them as the water rinsed the suds away. Then he would soap her midriff, her belly, and his hands would slip inside—

  Get control of yourself!

  She rinsed off roughly and fled the shower, toweled herself half dry and wrapped her hair in a towel. Then she pulled clothes over her damp body, cursing her jeans when they clung. She yanked the towel off her head and raked her fingers through it to release the last of the tangles. Once it was dry, she would come back in here and wrap it securely in a roll at the back of her head.

  She left the bathroom and started yanking the bed into order. They'd had sex. That's all it was. Sex, and now it was morning. This was a business marriage, and she wasn't wandering around in a sex-hazed cloud. Last night had been... last night Cal had been—

  We'll both lose control.

  He was a man and probably felt a masculine need to know that she wanted it, too, that she was as carried away as he had been.

  That's all. Nothing more, and she....

  She'd never felt so undone, so out of control... filled with deep hunger that wouldn't be denied. She hadn't known... hadn't dreamed she had that inside her.

  And she wasn't comfortable with the knowledge now that she did know.

  She found his note as she stood in front of the bureau and brushed her hair.