And while he was looking at her, she was looking at him. First she began on his face, zeroing in on his lips and remembering that first kiss in her office, and the one that had started things off today in the kitchen. She still had the taste of him on her tongue.
She then moved her gaze to his throat; saw the beating of the pulse at the center before moving lower to his shoulders, then his chest. She would have arched her neck to see farther down, but then she felt his hand on her thigh and then he used those same hands to spread her knees apart.
She sighed deeply. She had discovered during the course of the last couple of hours that she had a weakness, which was turning to a raw, primal addiction, whenever Morgan’s hands or fingers got close to any areas between her legs.
Like now.
There was this ache that would start right there in the center and move slowly, shivering through all parts of her body. He leaned down toward her mouth and began trailing kisses around her lips and then he pulled back, stared at her lips for a moment and then stuck out his tongue and began nibbling on her as if she was the sweetest chocolate he’d ever tasted.
Simultaneously, his fingers began going to work at her center, and she fought the tide of desire that began overtaking her. He was making her already hot body hotter. He was filling her, making the intense need within her that much greater; and he wasn’t far from making her cry out in pleasure. She tried fighting it, and the more she fought it, the more she felt it. His touch was deliberate. It was precise. It was almost too much for her to handle.
“Morgan!”
He had her panting, barely breathing, and when he took his thumb and flicked it over her achy part, right in the juncture of her thighs, she felt her body teeter, right on the edge of an orgasm.
“I want to be inside you again,” he whispered, easing his body in place over hers, while at the same time gently scraping his teeth against the dark skin of her shoulder.
“I want to get in and lock down,” he said, lifting her hips and cupping her backside.
The only thing she could do was to release a sigh of “Oh.” And the moment she did so, he swept his tongue into her mouth at the same time he eased into her body.
She gripped his shoulders. She wrapped her legs around him—not that she thought he was going anywhere. He was working it. Working her. Establishing his own rhythm, thrusting in and out. Then he flung his head back and she felt his thighs tighten, locking down on hers; felt how he clenched her hips higher to the fit of him, to go deeper inside her. She moved with him, followed his beat, his tempo, and closed her eyes thinking that this might be madness but at the moment it was madness at its finest.
It was he who screamed her name, and at that exact moment she felt his body jolt, buck, thrust continuously, almost frantically, into hers. She felt the heat of him, thick and hot, flood her insides. And then she understood what he’d meant when he’d said lock down. He was holding her immobile when he continued to slide in and out of her, giving her his own brand of both torture and gratification.
“Morgan!”
Then it happened to her for the umpteenth time that day. Hearing his name he cupped the back of her neck and she opened her eyes and looked at him, stared into his dark eyes, like heated chocolate chips, gazing back at her. And then without saying a word, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
Lena knew at that moment she would go without a man for another six years if she thought the result would be this. Morgan Steele had definitely ended her sexual drought, and he had been well worth the wait.
And that was the last thought that crossed her mind when another orgasm hit and her body began exploding all over again.
A short while later, Morgan switched their positions to make things more comfortable for a sleeping Lena. He smiled. His perfect woman had actually fallen asleep, but that was fine. He was inside her, locked down, locked in tight and he didn’t intend to go anywhere. Their legs were tangled, making them fixed in place, their bodies bolted, almost making true the words “joined at the hips.” But they weren’t joined at the hip. They were joined at the organs, sexual organs.
He smiled, remembering her compliment of that particular organ of his. This woman was so amazing that he couldn’t think straight. All he had to do was close his eyes to remember the past several hours. He’d wanted a special homecoming but had gotten a whole lot more.
The moment he had kissed her in his kitchen he had felt it. Her response had been spontaneous, hot. And the way she had yielded to him sparked every desire within his body that could be named, arousing passions he had kept well under control for years and stirring such volatile emotions within him, he couldn’t do anything but succumb to the powerful chemistry that had gripped him.