Wild Fire
Page 62

The fingers traveled through her trimmed wet curls and stroked lightning through the velvet folds. She moaned softly, the sound harmonizing with the symphony of night sounds. She looked at his beloved face, the lines set deep with desire, his pupils nearly gone now as his eyes went all cat. A frisson of delicious fear went down her spine at the look of hunger and determination etched into his face. Two fingers sank into her tight depths and she gasped and bucked against his invading hand.
He switched his attention to her other breast and when she held it for him, his second hand slid to her buttocks and pressed her onto his fingers. “Ride me, honey,” he whispered.
What else could she do? Her body temperature was rising out of control and her tight, hot muscles grasped greedily at his fingers. She began to thrust her hips around his hand as he drove his fingers deep inside of her.
Conner’s body hardened past the point of sanity. Her soft body was so willing with him. He used his fingers like his cock, thrusting into her, absorbing the feel of her damp heat growing hotter and hotter. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her heart beat out of control. The sensations he was creating were causing her body to coil tighter and tighter, edging her toward release. He wanted her needy. Hungry for him. On the edge. But he didn’t want to tip her over.
His teeth tugged at her nipple and he felt the answering spasm in her wet channel. Abruptly he pulled his fingers free. “We’re almost there.”
She whimpered and dropped her hand between her thighs almost compulsively, but he caught her wrists and pulled her to him.
“Soon. Be patient.” He gave her a small smack on her buttocks and nudged her along the trail that led behind the waterfall to the chamber where he had first stashed supplies on his original arrival to the rain forest a week ago, before he’d reported to Rio.
“You started this,” she pointed out, trying not to squirm.
“And I’ll finish it.” His gaze darkened more. “I want you wanting me.”
“I think that’s rather obvious,” she said, pouting a little.
He helped her the last few feet across the rocks. They ducked quickly through the outer edges of the spray and made it to the safety of the chamber. It was large and rounded, with smooth stone making up the walls on three sides. Years earlier, when he’d first discovered the secret place, he’d carved a hold in the rock wall for his torch and later a kerosene lantern. The lantern was long gone, but the torch he’d replaced a few days earlier. He lit it so she could really see the interior of the chamber.
Isabeau didn’t care where they were, only that they were finally together. She missed his company. She missed his body. And she missed the things he could do to her body. He was watching her through half-closed eyes, his face in the shadows while the light cast a glow around her like a spotlight. She moved, a slow enticement meant to center his attention on her.
“How the hell did I ever make it without you?” he asked. He drew a mat from his backpack and spread it out over the top of what could have been a large sandbar resting on top of the smooth rock.
It was the first time that she’d noticed there was sand. She climbed up on it, standing just at the edge of the mat and curled her toes in the sand. It was incredibly fine. “How did this get here?”
Conner took her hand, drew her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Although she was standing on several inches of sand, she was still shorter than he was. He rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “My mother gave it to me as a gift when I was young. It was my birthday and I thought she’d forgotten. I used to use this as my hiding place.” He looked around. “I felt very grown up here and when puberty hit, my fantasy girl was always here to help me out.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “Really? What was she like?”
“Quite beautiful, but she never quite measured up in my mind to the real thing.” The smile faded from his voice. “I’ve had a year of bad nights, loneliness and an aching cock, Isabeau. I was lost without you.” He pulled back to look at her face. To judge her reaction. He didn’t like talking about his feelings, love and lust and anger mixed altogether.
“I know.” She rained kisses along his jaw. “I’m here. We’re together.”
He drew her down slowly, his grip like steel, forcing her to sprawl across the mat. She could feel the tension running through his body, and just like that her body responded with heat. Maybe the fire had never really cooled. His hands stroked every inch of her, as if he was painting her with smooth brushstrokes—or memorizing every inch of her. His inspection was thorough and he took his time. Just when she thought she might start moaning and pleading, with no warning at all he brushed those strong fingers over her wet mound and she cried out with the exquisite pleasure.
Shadows moved across the curved walls of the small chamber. The sound of water was constant and loud, the spray, a thick veil cutting her off from the rest of the world. Isabeau lay across the thick mat in the rock chamber behind the waterfall, and turned her head to watch the water cascading down in glittery white sheets, enjoying gentle touches to her body, but always aware of the gathering heat, a firestorm that would come crashing down on her.
Conner. Her ruthless lover. When he touched her, she was lost. And right now he wanted to claim every inch of her. She couldn’t resist his particular brand of possession. The animal in him raged close to the surface, and the intensity of his touch reflected his hunger for her. He had made certain she was comfortable—he would always see to that—before he took his time doing everything he wanted to her. She heard her own breathing, ragged gasps she couldn’t quite control. Anticipation was turning her on as much as looking at him did.