His demeanor roughened as he tightened his hold on her body.
She moaned softly when his lips left hers to spin a trail of fire from her earlobe, down her neck and across her shoulder. Shivers racked her body when his hot breath warmed her skin, and she clutched his arms to keep upright.
He slid one hand underneath the sweater to cup her breast.
She gasped when a thumbnail scraped across the sensitive nub before he covered it with his hand and squeezed. Her head lolled back as his lips continued their sensual assault. Her senses reeled, and she panted through slightly parted lips.
Consumed with the desire to have his skin against hers, she yanked at his shirt, pulling it roughly up his torso. He stepped back and stripped it off and tossed it aside.
She raked her hands over his chest, delighting in the quivering muscles under her fingertips.
And then she saw the scars.
One on his shoulder, another on his left side. Still another across his chest.
She touched the one on his chest, and he covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry. It’s not a pretty sight.”
“Shhh,” she whispered as she leaned in to kiss the welt on his side. He shuddered when she traced the line across his chest with her tongue. “We all have scars, Max,” she said softly and moved to the one on his shoulder. “Some are visible.” The one on his cheek came next. “Some are not.” She took his face in her hands. “I want to know everything about you…scars and all…when you’re ready to tell me.”
He pulled her roughly against him and rocked gently back and forth. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered into her hair. “I don’t.”
“We deserve each other.” She skated her hands up and down his back, fingered yet another wound, smaller than the others, then pulled back far enough to run her tongue around first one taut nipple then the other, the sharp hiss of his breath saying he liked it. When she scraped her teeth over it, he groaned and stepped back.
He pulled the edge of her sweater up and over her head, trapping her arms in the sleeves as he brushed kisses down her neck and across her chest.
Breath lodged in her throat when his tongue delved down the valley between her breasts and nipped at the nipple through the lacy fabric of her bra.
“Pink is my new favorite color,” he groaned.
Blood surged from her toes to her fingertips, followed by tremors of delight. She gulped air through constricted lungs, face half hidden in the folds of her sweater. “Max…”
He pulled the top all the way off and tossed it over his shoulder.
Her whole body shivered like a leaf in the wind when he pulled one bra strap down her shoulder, then the other.
He rubbed his chin over the soft mounds, the scruff of his beard making her overly sensitive skin tingle.
She gasped when bare chest met bare chest as her bra vanished.
Her jeans soon landed atop the growing pile, leaving her with nothing but the matching lace panties.
She suffered a moment of insecurity, resisting the urge to cover herself. Did he notice the flaws? Would he be disappointed?
The smoldering flame in his eyes as he stepped closer derailed that train of thought.
He ran both hands over her shoulders, down her arms, and around her waist to cup her bottom, pressing her firmly against him. His uneven breath was warm against her cheek as they held the pose.
The coarse hair on his chest rubbing against her nipples stimulated a moan of pleasure, so she did it again. And again.
Her trembling fingers fumbled with the buttons on his jeans and managed to get them down past his hips before he kicked them off, followed by his boxers.
Her own breath sputtered as hunger and need blazed in the whiskey-colored eyes watching her. She closed the distance between them and placed her hands on his chest, enjoying the hard thumps of his heart beneath her palms that said she wasn’t the only one on fire.
He made a guttural noise low in his throat and lifted her into the cradle of his arms. “My beautiful Sky,” he whispered as he gently placed her on the bed and lay down beside her, claiming her lips once more.
She squirmed under the hand that glided across her midriff all the way to her thigh, while his mouth nibbled her earlobe and down her neck. Fingers fisted, she sucked in a breath as his tongue scorched a path down her ribs to her stomach and back up again, his ardor surprisingly, touchingly restrained.
Her breasts surged at the intimacy of his touch, the way he shaped and molded each one before his lips touched a hardened tip with tantalizing possessiveness.
She moaned and pressed his head down with one hand, while the other ran up and down his back, her nails digging into the taut flesh.
He suckled first one dusky tip and then the other as his hand slipped lower, gliding over her waist to her thighs. He suckled harder as his fingers slid under the edge of the scrap of lace covering her core to explore the hidden softness.
She arched upward as his fingers rolled over the sensitive flesh sending shockwaves through her and bringing her perilously close to the abyss.
She cried out and angled to grip him in her hand, exploring his length in quick, even strokes.
His tormented groan was a heady invitation, and she increased the pressure.
“Wait,” he grated as he got on his knees beside her. Ten seconds later, the lace disappeared. He grabbed the foil pack and sheathed himself.
She lifted her arms in silent invitation.
Anchoring her with one searing kiss, he joined them together in the primordial act of possession. He was hers. She was his.
Her body melted against him, the pleasure pure and explosive. The earth careened on its axis, and she gasped in sweet agony. “Max…” Her hands raked up and down his back. Waves of ecstasy throbbed through her, and the world was filled with him. Only him.
Their bodies moved in exquisite harmony, the tempo changing as the flames of passion soared. Slow and steady became fast and furious as she matched his urgency with her own unsated needs.
