Page 43 of Sinful Temptation


Except that her little shorts were in his way, and he couldn’t have that, now, could he?

So he worked his fingers under the elastic waistband, stripping shorts and skimpy panties down her legs in one fell swoop.

There she was. His prize—the last and only one he’d ever want. Waxed and bare, the thick folds ruddy and engorged. Glistening. He dipped his head, and she obligingly spread her thighs so he could smell her. She had that raw musk, the earthy fragrance of an aroused woman, and the scent, in combination with the lush fruity scent that was purely Talia went straight to his head in an intoxicating rush.

He licked her, needing a taste.

Her responsive cry was sharp and unabashed, and hot enough to drive him over the edge into insanity if he didn’t get inside her now.

No, but wait—condoms.

Cursing with impatience, he levered up over her body, reaching for that drawer again, where he kept some ancient condoms from before his last stint overseas. Hopefully they hadn’t disintegrated into rubber bits by now.

He was in luck. By the time he’d ripped the package open and peeled one out with his fumbling fingers, she’d taken care of his boxer briefs, yanking them down far enough for his erection to spring free.

He covered up, managing a shaky laugh. “I’m dying here.”

She laughed, too, swiping at her sparkling eyes. “So am I. You have no idea.”

Smoothing her forehead, he kissed it as he lowered his hips down into position. “So why are you crying?”

“Because I’ve wanted this.”

That wasn’t quite what he needed to hear. “Wanted…?” he prompted.

“You. I’ve wanted you.”

He took his penis in hand and ran the swollen head back and forth between her folds, gasping at the slick heat.

“Since when have you wanted me?”

Another shimmering tear fell and, Jesus, he’d swear she melted as he eased inside her tight body, sighing and crooning as her eyes rolled closed. Watching her…feeling her…possessing her…it was all he could do to control his body’s shudders as he tried to master a rhythm rather than fall into the frenzied thrusting that his surging blood demanded.

“Always,” she said as their bodies began to rise and fall together, and her silver bracelets clinked in time to their movements. “I’ve always wanted you.”

At that point, talking became impossible. Everything became impossible except his frantic effort to get close enough to her and to hang on to her once she splintered in his arms, calling his name and demanding more…harder…now, as she gripped his ass and took everything he had.

When he came, his body convulsed and he felt his face twist with ecstasy. He cried out, throwing back his head and letting loose with a hoarse shout that was full of joy, triumph and perfection.

It wasn’t that he was perfect, God knew, and the haunted shadows behind Talia’s eyes that she refused to share with him also made her less than perfect. They had issues, and he knew it—issues individually and as a couple. The thing was, though, they were perfect together. Perfect for each other.

Which worried him, because his life, thus far, had certainly not been a model of calm seas and smooth sailing. Anxiety niggled at him for as long as he let it, which was about two seconds. And then he shoved it in its dungeon, extinguished the torches and turned the key in its lock.

Later for that. Maybe never.

There…that was better. He felt lighter already.

Being with Talia felt like opening the door on a whole new world of possibilities. As though he was finally moving out of the black-and-white portion of his life and into high-def color. As though he could finally get out from under death’s shadow.

Exhausted and emotionally spent, far beyond managing anything as complex as a smile, he stared down at her, wanting to make sure she was okay. Her brown eyes were wide and clear now, warm and intent. There were things he wanted to tell her, but now with their bodies and gazes connected, he had the feeling that she’d already seen and accepted everything about him.

“Talia,” he began anyway.

“Shh.” Sliding her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, she pressed him back down, took his full weight, anchored her legs around his and flipped the linens over them both. “We’ll talk in the morning.”