by Lori Wilde
Heat and moisture. Sensation layered on top of sensation. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All she could do was surrender to this man. Her beloved.
He took his time. As if savoring the world’s most sumptuous meal. He had her giggling and gasping. Panting and praying. Clutching his head and crying for more. The man was a sex magician.
His fingers slid into the game, stretching and teasing, taking things up another notch. She had no idea there were so many levels of arousal. How was this even possible? Naomi felt like a rosebud blossoming in the heat of a nurturing sun. Opening up. Flowering wild and free. Blooming to her full potential. She was a nymph, a goddess, a queen. She was a glistening, glittering galaxy!
Time hung suspended. In amber. In honey. In treacle. Languid and warm and rare. A golden moment that stretched out limitlessly and teased her with the thought that this was how the universe secretly existed.
In the immutable vastness of now.
It seemed fated. As if from the moment she’d mistakenly hopped into his Jeep, they’d been building toward this encounter.
Toward each other.
His touch, his skill, his reverence, pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Sensation built, grew, swelled. Pushed down on her.
And when she gasped, wide-eyed and startled, shivered, shook, Mark laughed.
“What . . .” She gasped, her body rippling in riotous joy. “. . . was that?”
“Butterfly, don’t tell me that was your first orgasm.”
Chapter 27
“So that’s what all the fuss is about.” She breathed. “Wow.”
He shifted his body away from her, but his hand was still stroking her gently.
“No,” she whispered. “Please.”
“What is it? Are you okay?” His hand stilled, his voice filled with concern.
“Not at all. I just . . . it’s just . . . I’m not ready for this to end. I want this night to last.”
“Ah, butterfly.” He laughed, kindness in his chuckle. “This is only the beginning.”
Her heart did a trippy little hope tap—tat-tat-tatty-tat-tat. Did he mean the first of many orgasms or the first of many nights like tonight? She so wanted to believe it was the latter.
She sneaked a peek at his face. He was at the foot of the bed, gazing at her over the tops of her bent knees.
His lips curled into a naughty-boy smile. Glistened in the muted light. He looked smug and so handsome she didn’t know if she could survive many more nights like this one.
“I want you to have fun too,” she said.
“Believe me, darlin’,” he drawled, “I’m having the time of my life. It’s okay. Just let things flow.”
She was about to protest that it wasn’t fair for her to get her jollies while he went without. But then he lowered his head and went back to doing what he did so masterfully.
That amazing mouth burning her. Branding her. Banishing her to the outer reaches of reason. Her body was alive. Electric. Tingling. Throbbing. Ticking. Jolt after jolt of sensation hit her. Robbed her of thought. Of sanity.
She was an animal. Wild. Hungry. Desperate.
“Mark,” she shouted, not even aware she was calling his name. “Mark!” A punctuation. “Mark, Mark, Mark.” A chant. Maybe it should be her new mantra. No more faith of a mustard seed. In this moment, he was her hope. Her faith. Her everything. “Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark.”
His hands and tongue performed wily wizardry.
She arched her back off the mattress. Her fingers latching into his hair. Not letting go. She cried out. A mad, tumultuous sound. The growing heat flared, flamed. Consuming her in rhythmic waves of vivid yellow starbursts.
He slowed.
Teasing.
“More,” she whispered between adrenaline giggles. “Please more.”
He was one hundred percent in charge. She was at his mercy. But while he teased, he didn’t torment. Not much, anyway. Just enough to make it more pleasurable than uncomfortable. He knew how to walk the fine line. Escalating the tension. Holding back in order to push her into more thrilling heights.
Naomi didn’t fight it. Just let him be in charge. Allowed him to blow her away. To cast his magic spell. Body. Mind. Soul.
Five seconds in and Naomi was fairly certain she was going to pass out if something didn’t give soon.
And then, oh God, she was gone. So gone. Disappeared. Vanished. She gasped, grasped, panted, quivered. Transformed from regular old Naomi Luther, personal shopper and soon-to-be officially a mom, into a high priestess. Venus. Aphrodite. Clíodhna. One of those incredible goddesses.
Whimpering, she clutched a pillow to her chest. Struggled to fully absorb what was happening.
She opened one eye. Got a good look at Mark. Sighed. If she died now, she’d die a happy, happy woman. She dropped her knees in opposite directions to the mattress. Motioned him to her with come-hither fingers.
He climbed onto the bed between her splayed legs. Watched her with inquisitive brown eyes. He paused for what felt like a week, his eyes searching her face. “How you doing, butterfly?”
Butterfly.
His special word of endearment for her. The first thing he ever called her. The word that matched her tattoo. Her symbol of resurrection. He was resurrecting her.
“Fine.” She bobbed her head. Realized belatedly he was checking to make sure she was ready to continue. “Oh yes. That. Finer than fine.”
He stretched out beside her. Raised up on one elbow. Looked down at her in an expression of such acceptance and tenderness that her heart floated up out of her chest and into her throat. Bobbling like a helium-filled balloon.
Balloons could burst. Or float away. They didn’t stay bright and cheery forever. That’s what she was afraid of. Worried that tonight wouldn’t be enough to transform him. To heal him. To heal them.
Discreetly, he put on the condom. Leaned toward her, his big body parallel to hers. “Is it okay if I kiss you now?”
“You don’t have to ask permission,” she said. “I want this as much as you do.”
“Naomi.” He said her name simply and gathered her against him. Inhaled the scent of her hair. Pressed his mouth against hers.
He tasted of her. Salty and sexy. What a turn-on!
She tugged his head down, deepening the kiss. Letting him know it was okay to share. She loved the mingling. The merging. The beautiful magic of two soul mates fully enjoying each other’s bodies. In her heart, she was fully and completely committed to him. Without a doubt, she knew he was her one and only.
Wondered if he knew it too. Prayed that he did.
“Mmm,” he moaned. “You taste so good.”
They laughed together. And kissed. Long and slow and creatively. Taking their time. Rolling in the specialness.
When they were both panting and desperate, he flipped her over on top of him. Her knees fell to either side of his hips. She straddled him the way she did that day on the sidewalk in the town square. That harbinger of a moment.
He spanned his hands around her waist. Held her poised over this straining shaft. Let her dangle there.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
They exchanged glances.
“Do you feel it?”
“What?” she whispered back.
“Our combined energy.”
Oh boy, did she feel it! The heat and vibration surging from him into her before they were even joined.
Slowly, he lowered her. She reached down to touch him, to guide him inside her.
“No hands,” he commanded. “Let our bodies find their way. They know where to go.”
His control was amazing. Millimeter by millimeter he eased her down. She could feel the throbbing of him pulsating at her entrance. Full of life force. She wanted to engulf him. Absorb him.
She wriggled, trying to get lower quicker. Desperate to connect with him. But his hands held firmly around her waist. Suspending her at that exquisite level of almost having what she wanted. But not quite able
to get there.
“Tease,” she said, and he laughed.
But he relinquished his hold, let her body sink down to envelop his. She gasped, joyous. He grinned and patted her butt as she settled in. Her body stretching over his girth.
She shifted, savoring the pressure of him inside her. He hissed a you-feel-so-good sound that vibrated throughout her being. Shivers of pleasure tripped over her.
They were fully connected. No separation.
She stared down at him. He peered up at her. For a sweet, blissful moment, they didn’t move. Then he cupped her breasts and she rocked forward and he groaned. And everything went wild.
This may be our first and last time together. The thought bounced around in her head. But of course, she would see him again. He might not be able to change. To give her what she needed.
Pinch. Twist. Ah yes. The truth.
Her heart skipped a beat. Was this a one-time affair? She’d been swept away by need and desire. Hadn’t really thought this through. Her emotions had been crazy tonight, swinging from low to high. Back and forth. She’d been through the whole spectrum of feelings in one endless evening. She wasn’t thinking rationally.
Mark pulled her head down and kissed her thoroughly. A kiss that offered promises of happily-ever-after. Could she trust that? Could she trust him?
He seemed so trustworthy, but he didn’t know how to trust himself. How could she trust a man who couldn’t trust his own judgment?
Momentary panic flared inside her. Too late. It was too late to backtrack. He’d given her every opportunity to say no. To back out.
They were already joined. Merged.
Like it or not, this night meant something. The paradigm had shifted and she was committed. The way she looked at love would never be the same. She was changing. He was changing her—from a girl who chose to see the world through rose-colored glasses, into a woman who could see clearly human beauty in all its faults and flaws.
Life wasn’t about ignoring the problems and hoping for the best. Rather, she was growing in the knowledge that saw those problems as opportunities. And tackling those opportunities with her eyes wide open made her stronger, tougher, and more independent. She didn’t need anyone to save her.
She could save herself.
If this relationship crashed and burned, losing him would not destroy her. No matter how much she loved him. No matter that he was her soul mate. Her destiny. She’d survived so much loss already. She would survive whatever rough seas life dished out. There was a little boy next door depending on her.
She could handle come what may.
Right now, she was going to handle him. In the best possible way. Naomi smiled in the darkness.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You,” she said, reaching around to grip his hips and sink even deeper onto him.
“Woman,” he gasped, and dug his fingers into her buttocks. “You’re driving me out of my ever-loving mind.”
She rocked back and forth. Giggling.
He wrapped his arms around her back and partially sat up. Sending his body somehow sliding impossibly deeper inside her. He fisted one hand around her hair, holding her in place while he captured her lips and kissed her hard and long.
They were rocking together now. A single unit. Bouncing on the mattress, squeaking the bedsprings.
Drunk with the wildness of it. Of him. Of them. She closed her eyes and let the eclipse slide over her.
“That’s right, butterfly,” he said, using that lovely nickname again. “Just let go. I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”
His voice was a fleece blanket, warm and soft. Carrying her away. Keeping her safe. He nuzzled her neck, nibbled her earlobe. His tongue licked her tender flesh. Goose bumps rose on her skin, spread down her body.
Without preamble, he tucked his arm around her waist and flipped them over in one smooth motion. He was on top. Cradling her head in his hands. Peering into her eyes.
Naomi felt him grow harder inside her, and a little moan of pleasure escaped her lips.
“You are so beautiful. I’ve imagined you naked in my bed from the minute you landed in my Jeep.”
“Really?” She smiled, feeling a bit self-conscious. She never thought of herself as particularly beautiful. Pretty, okay. But beautiful? Not by a long shot.
In his eyes, she saw her reflection, realized that he truly found her beautiful. That touched and humbled her.
Mark stroked her cheeks with his fingers, planted kisses everywhere he touched. Her forehead. Her chin. The tip of her nose. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
When he said it like that, she felt sexy. Naomi lowered her lashes, smiled serenely.
He tugged her closer. Moved inside her. Slowly at first, getting a leisurely rhythm going. He tilted his pelvis against hers. Rubbing the spot that sent electric sensation flooding her pelvis.
Their mouths, their bodies, their minds united. Creative. Expressive. Instruments of physical love. But it was more than that. Higher. Rarer. Art. They were creating art with their bodies. With each other. A magnificent, timeless dance of love.
This was why people called it lovemaking. She felt cherished, and she cherished him in return.
But along with the cherishing came the charging heat and fiery desire. The blistering, crackling, sizzling need. They were caught in a swirl of lips and tongues. Arms and legs. Tangled. Entangled. Enmeshed.
It was a dance of penetration and retreat. Of ebb and flow. Profound. Complex. Tricky. Sticky. Wet and willing.
Sensitive.
Her entire body was hypersensitive to his touch. Receptive. She was aware of every brush of his fingers, every breath he took. The taste of his mouth. The sight of his bare skin. The throb of him.
Her cells tingled and glowed. It seemed a top-secret message from the universe. Confidential and hush-hush. Just the two of them in on this great and powerful answer to the mystery of life.
Love. She thought it. Felt it. And in that moment, knew it.
A breathless whirl. Visions of possibilities. Shadow and light. The world was inside her and she was inside the world. Vast. Endless. No limits.
Falling. Oh, she was falling.
While at the same time, rising. Surging up on energy and passion. Soaring to the apex of something big. A comet shooting across the sky, high, arcing . . .
Headed for a beautiful, shattering plunge into unmapped territory.
Mark was pushing her to those majestic heights. His body thrusting into her. She writhed with pleasure beneath him. Her hands fisting the sheets. Toes curling in ecstasy.
“You okay?” he whispered, his voice husky and brusque with urgency. Checking in with her again. “You ready?”
“Yes, oh yes.” She pushed against him. Urgent for more. Ready to share the ultimate with him.
He responded. Quickening the pace. Intensifying the pressure. Rocking into her hard and swift. The world tilted. The universe rattled. The galaxy split.
Every part of her turned electric indigo. Icy hot. Fiery cold. Dichotomy. Yin and yang. Opposites coming together to form the perfect whole.
Miraculous oneness.
Their sweaty bodies clung. Climbed. Climaxed. Crashed. She cried out his name. He groaned hers.
She had never felt so magnificent. So sexy. So much like a woman.
A final thrust. That last stroke and she cracked wide open. The deep shudder of release cleaving through the middle of her. Robbing her breath. Sapping her strength. Draining away all the tension.
She sucked in a mouthful of sheet, laughed. Sighed. Cried.
Mark made noises of his own. Male, guttural, earthy.
She grinned, feeling erotic, exotic, and powerful. She had reduced him to a quivering mass. Ha ha.
Mark fell to one side. Gathered her in his arms. Cradled her in the crook of his elbow. Kissed her cheek. Tightened his grip as if he intended on never letting go.
His face was shiny in the light from the hallway. His satisfied
smile so incredibly sexy she could hardly stand it. She had just made love with this strong, gorgeous, flawed, complicated man.
And it was the best night of her entire life.
Chapter 28
The next morning, Naomi uncurled awake in the predawn darkness. She stretched luxuriously, remembering the glorious night just past. Glanced to the other side of the bed.
Found Mark watching her, lying on his side with his hands stacked under his chin. His dark eyes aglow with what looked exactly like the happiness bubbling inside her.
He gave her a diamond-studded smile. “Morning, butterfly.”
She smiled back, her heart on overflow.
“You are so beautiful.” He reached out for her hands, took them in his. Brought them to his lips. Kissed each knuckle one by one.
His warm mouth on her skin sent sweet shivers up her spine. This moment was special. The morning after they first made love.
Still holding her hands, he drew her closer to him, his soft smile turning sexy and beguiling. The smile that said she was the only woman in the world for him. That charming sweet smile, that she had loved from the time she’d accidentally climbed into his Jeep.
The smile she’d seen in her kismet cookie dreams.
Kindred spirits.
Soul mates.
He kissed her, tenderly at first, then slowly deepening it.
Her body responded immediately, heating and tightening. She moaned low in her throat, desperate for him. When it came to him, she had zero self-control.
His control was pretty shaky too, because when she slid her hand down his chest to his belly and lower, he tossed back his head and let loose with a guttural sound.
He was hot and ready for her. When she touched the most masculine part of him, he shuddered and called her name. “Naomi.”
Fumbling, he grabbed for the condom on the bedside table, and once he got it on, he pulled her against him and nuzzled the curve of her bare shoulder. Pressing kisses up and down her throat, while he shifted her onto her back and tenderly eased into her.
Just as they did the night before, they clung to each other, rising together to the summit of pleasure. Made for each other.