Wild Fire
Page 92

She moved her hips back to the strength of his rhythm, a hard, fast pace that was nearly brutal. She winced once and he immediately forced himself to stop, holding still in that exquisite cauldron of fire. “What is it, beloved?” he managed when his entire being wanted—needed—to continue.
She shook her head and wiggled. “Please,” she managed, “keep going.”>
“What hurt?” His voice was rougher than he intended, his throat nearly closing with the burning fire rolling through his body. Every instinct demanded he plunge deeper and harder.
She gave a small laugh. “My butt. The shot hurt.”
He instantly shifted his angle so his body wouldn’t slap against that small injury. “Next time,” he said through clenched teeth, as he pushed deep, feeling her tight folds stretch around his invasion, gripping, making the friction exquisite. “Next time, tell me immediately when you’re uncomfortable.”
Isabeau suppressed her sassy comment, not wanting to risk a smack on her butt when she just happened to be in a vulnerable position. Besides, right now she didn’t want him to ever stop moving. His fingers were hard on her hips, guiding the rhythm, setting the fast pace, rocking her with every stroke. She always lost herself in him, every amazing moment they came together.
She could feel her body building, always building, the sensations stronger and stronger until she was stretched as far as she could possibly go without breaking, wound so tight she thought there could be no more without snapping into a million pieces. Her body shuddered, every muscle quivering, contracting, gripping at the invader as he thrust deep again and again.
He buried the full length of his thick shaft, over and over into her aching, needy body. Her head tossed, hair flying in all directions, when his hard hands gripped her hips and held her still while he pounded into her, sheathing himself until there was nothing but the sound of their bodies coming together, their combined harsh breathing and the building fire at the center of their bodies.
She clenched her muscles around him, gripping him tight, stroking his shaft with hot velvet caresses. His cock, silk over steel, was like a spike driving into her deep, so hard, so hot, dragging over the bundle of raw nerves again and again as he stretched and filled her.
He suddenly slowed, his stroke pushing inch by fiery inch through her tight folds, a slow relentless piercing that had her moaning brokenly. She could feel every vein on the thick length of him pushing through her body until the large head bumped her womb and lodged like a burning brand.
“Damn, Isabeau,” he hissed.
She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her hips, tightening her muscles around him, squeezing and milking, twisting herself on that thick spike of pleasure invading her.
His breath exploded out of his lungs. He swore and gripped her hips hard. That was her only warning. He began thrusting like a jackhammer, impaling her over and over, driving deep, sending ripples of mind- numbing pleasure spreading through her, the intensity growing and growing until it was all encompassing.
She cried out hoarsely, the sound strangled as she felt his release, hot and thick, explode deep into her, against her spasming, throbbing womb. For a moment her entire body locked down, every muscle contracting, clamping down hard, and then the release tore through her like a firestorm, building in intensity. She could hear the roar in her head, feel the scorching flames rush over and through her, her body quaking from toes to head.
He held her, whispering softly. “I’m sorry, baby, this has to be done.”
His teeth sank into her shoulder, not the teeth of a man, but that of a cat, holding her still while his body trapped hers, still rocking with pleasure. Pain streaked through her shoulder right under his mouth, and then his tongue lapped at her, taking away the sting. She shuddered under that rasping tongue and turned her head to look over her shoulder. His eyes were all cat, golden and focused, so intense she felt another spasm in her womb.
Conner dropped his face against her back and rubbed, skin on skin, the shadow along his jaw grazing her skin roughly, sending more ripples through her core. He pressed kisses down her spine and slowly straightened until he was kneeling upright behind her, still holding her. “I love you, Isabeau. More than you can know.”
He eased out of her body and sank down onto the edge of the bed, his legs shaky. She turned and crawled to him, her face flushed, her eyes glazed, her breath coming in ragged little gasps. She sat on the floor in front of him, looking up at him. Their gazes locked.
Her expression was so loving it humbled him. He didn’t deserve the way she felt, that all-encompassing love, almost adoration, but he resolved never to lose it. He bent toward her and she immediately tipped up her face to let him take possession of her mouth in a long, satisfying kiss.
“I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy, Isabeau.”
“You do make me happy, Conner. When we’re alone like this, and I have you, I know what I feel and what you feel. It’s here in this room and it’s enough for me.”
He looked around the small rustic cabin. This would be her life with him, at least for a long while. Always traveling from one assignment to the next. He could never be far from the forest, he knew he could never live in a city. He’d spent time in the United States on a large ranch, a beautiful place, but not for him.
“Can you live like this, Isabeau?”
She smiled at him. “With you? This is exactly where I want to be.”
Conner shook his head. “I want you to give it some thought, beloved. You have to really think about what it would be like day in and day out. I’m a demanding man. I like my way. I’ve tried to be honest about what I want with you and I look around and see I’m not exactly offering you the world. At times it will be dangerous, and the intensity of those moments can be overwhelming in a bad way.”