Now.
Without uttering a word he reached out and tugged the blouse over her head, then freed the bra completely from her breasts. As he tossed both aside, his hands then moved to her hips and on bended knee he unceremoniously yanked down her skirt, leaving her standing in the middle of his kitchen wearing nothing but a thong.
“Mercy.”
Lena heard his growl.
Heat drummed through her when she felt his fingers move slowly up her legs, kneading her flesh while making her body burst into flames. But it seemed it didn’t intend to let her burn without him. The next thing she knew was that he was sensually stroking the back of her knee with one hand while tracing his fingertips up her inner thigh with the other. When he reached her thong, his hand slipped beneath the satin barely-there covering and touched her.
She fought the fiery sensations that single touch caused by closing her eyes, throwing her head back and pressing her knees together. She had never felt such intensity, such vulnerability, so possessed with need.
“Lena?”
Deep in the recess of her mind she heard her name. She slowly opened her eyes and looked down and met his gaze, recognizing the look in their dark depths. That look stole her breath, sent even more indescribable sensations shooting through her and made liquid heat, which she could actually feel, pool right smack between her legs where his finger still was located.
“I want you, Lena,” he whispered in a husky voice, still holding her gaze. “I want you on the table.”
She stared down at him. He was leaning back on his haunches staring back at her. There was a high degree of heat in his eyes, and then suddenly she felt hot all over again. He stood, laced his fingers with hers, positioned her body close to his and turned her slightly and begin inching her backward toward the table. It was then that she noticed his towel had dropped and he was as stark naked as she was.
“I’ve been fantasizing about you spread out on my desk, but I’m going to make this table work,” he whispered huskily into her ear.
They came to a stop when the table was at her back. Morgan remembered how his brothers had joked about him having such a huge table in his kitchen. Now he knew why it was there. It was perfect. His need, his desire and his want for her had built up over a long period. She had become an obsession that nearly bordered on madness.
He wanted to marry her. He wanted her to have his baby. He wanted her to be a part of his life forever.
He loved her.
That stark realization ratcheted through him, nearly knocking him off balance. That was the reason why he had come up with those crazy plans, and why, even when Donovan had teased him mercilessly about Lena not giving him the time of day, he hadn’t let her rejection deter him one bit from making her his priority.
He knew at that very moment that he had probably fallen in love with her the moment he set eyes on her that night, and he had dreamed about her every night since then. She had fascinated him in a way no other woman had ever done before. He saw a beauty on the outside that he knew radiated from the inside. Her dedication to her mother and those she considered friends was monumental. He admired such a high degree of loyalty and devotion. Her involvement in the various community projects around town that were geared to benefit others was a testimony that she was a person who cared. This was the type of woman he needed in his life, to walk by his side, to be there with him when the going got tough. She didn’t know it yet but he had high plans for their future, and they would have a rewarding future together—she might as well bank on it.
He reached down and lifted her bottom and sat her on the edge of the table, then gently scooted her back on it. He stepped back. She was lying flat on her back with her gorgeous legs dangling off the sides, naked and opened for him. Just like he’d imagined in his fantasy.
Morgan inwardly groaned. All that naked flesh only heightened his desire. “You’re beautiful, Lena,” he whispered and felt the truth of his words all the way to his toes.
He watched as she slid a glance at him, smiled and said, “You have a way of making me feel sexy, Morgan Steele.”
“Because you are sexy. And your sexiness has a way of driving me wild. Pushing me over the edge and making me want to do things I normally don’t do,” he said truthfully.
He came back to the table, leaned over her and kissed her. Thoroughly. Deeply. And then he was between her spread knees, easing them apart even farther.
The scent of her drove him crazy, made him lose control, made his body even more aroused. He stepped closer, rubbed his hardened shaft against her wet core, teasing it, tantalizing it, provoking it in an enticing way.
“I think this is where I ask if I need to put on a condom,” he whispered huskily, as he continued to rub himself against her. “As much as I want to give you my baby, now isn’t the time to do it. There are too many number crunchers around here to suit me.”
She smiled and slowly shook her head. “I take the pill to regulate my periods, so I’m safe, but if you prefer to—”
“No, I don’t prefer. I want to be skin to skin, flesh to flesh with you. I want to know the exact moment I let go and fill you with me, Lena.”
He leaned in closer to her ear, letting his warm breath touch her skin underneath when he whispered, “In other words, I want to soak your insides to the point that even next week you’ll still know that I came for a visit.”
And then he kissed her in a long, drugging kiss that automatically had her eyes closing while the desire within her crested, seeking fulfillment.
“Look at me, Lena,” he said in a soft command after pulling back.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. It was then that she saw that he was on the table with his body straddled over hers. The light shining through his kitchen blinds made him appear as the man he had been—her nighttime fantasy—and into the man he now was, her daytime reality. At that moment she was aware of everything. The way he was staring down at her, the way their breathing was being released in the quiet stillness of the room, the way his shaft was resting between her open legs and the sexual, hot sense they radiated.
He leaned down and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose and smiled. “I think I’m going to keep this table forever,” he said, chuckling softly. And then his expression turned serious and he leaned down and whispered, “Got to have you. Now.”
He seemed to rise even higher above her before he sank back down in one fluid motion inside her.
“Oh,” she gasped, her sensation one of total fulfillment and extreme gratification, knowing their bodies were connected this way. He moved deeper, going inside her to the hilt, inside her while reaching under her and bracing her voluptuous bottom, holding it tight to the fit of him.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, whispering softly against the thick luxuriousness of her hair.
“No, you feel good,” she said, smiling up at him. “Okay, big guy. Show me what you can do.” And with the agility of an acrobat, she lifted her legs to lock her ankles in the center of his back.
He grinned down at her. “Remember, you asked for it.”
And then he began moving slow at first, easing in and out as if savoring each stroke, liking the feel of his shaft work its way inside her. And then the tempo suddenly changed, and he began pumping fast. Then faster. Relentless with need. Unbelievably detailed with each and every intimate and intense caress.
“More, Morgan. More. Don’t stop,” she begged.
It was on the tip of Morgan’s tongue to tell her that at this point he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. So he continued to pump into her, ignoring the hard feel of her heels in the center of his back with each thrusting motion. He felt her climbing the same ladder of passion that he was climbing, knowing what awaited them at the top was one hell of an orgasm. And when she arched her back, he didn’t know how it was possible but he drove deeper into her, hit something and whatever it was had her screaming her release.
He felt it, the tensing of her muscles, the pull, the cl
enching, and at that moment she became the epitome of everything sensual to him. She was one hell of a woman. His woman.
And then he reached the top with her, clung to everything, felt sensually trapped tight within her inner thighs, wishing he could stay a captive forever. He felt his body explode, shatter, flood her. And he bucked once, twice, a third time, appreciating the sturdiness of the table, grateful it was genuine wood and not glass. He was shattering enough. He didn’t need the table to shatter as well.
He threw his head back and growled incoherently. He felt like the wolf claiming his mate and all the innate rights that came with that possession. And as his body began to slow down, he started feeling an inner peace, one he’d never felt before. He could only think of one word for what had just taken place on his kitchen table. Perfect.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying to reclaim a semblance of strength. He gazed down at her and he wanted her again. Just like that. Just like this. But the next time he wanted it in the bedroom, in the bed. This table was of good quality, but it could only take so much.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth gently to hers, not ready to separate from her. Her saw the aftermath of a sexual glaze in her eyes, watched a satisfied smile touch the corners of her lips. Grinning proudly he wanted to beat his fists against his chest. Instead he reached down and cupped her face in his hands. “Tell me,” he whispered throatily. “What are you thinking?”
She grinned back at him, still trying to catch her breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm, I was just thinking that you have one hell of an organ, Morgan.”
He laughed. He actually laughed and the ripples from his body went straight through to hers, making them aware they were still joined.
“Besides being a sexy lady, you’re also a poet, I see.”
She chuckled. “Sometimes. How about this one? Why waste it when you can taste it?” And then she was pulling his head down for a kiss that sent an aching need through him. When she released his mouth she smiled up at him, pleased with what she’d done.
“Arrogant woman,” he teased gruffly. “You know what I think?” he asked, leaning down and brushing a kiss across her lips.
“No, what?”
“I think we should carry this discussion to the bedroom.”
“Think you’ll get poetic justice in there?”
“Among other things.”
Lena wrapped her arms around him. “I’m curious to find out about those other things.”
Chapter 12
And just to think she had convinced herself for six years that she didn’t need sex, Lena thought, feeling the heated warmth of Morgan’s naked body snuggled so close to hers. His even breathing was an indication that he had drifted off to sleep, but to make sure she didn’t go anywhere, his arms were wrapped securely around her waist and one of his legs was thrown over hers.
They were cuddled, spoon position, in his bed after just having another round of mind-blowing lovemaking. Yes, she preferred thinking about what they’d spent doing the better part of the last two hours as making love rather than just having sex. Today he had shown her there was a difference in the two. He had been painstakingly thorough with every detail, passionate with every sensual move and personal and intimate with every word he’d whispered in her ear each and every time he entered her body.
She inhaled deeply, picking up his masculine scent while at the same time feeling an inner peace, one she hadn’t felt in a long time—at least not since her father’s death. Willie Spears hadn’t been just a man. He had been a good father, husband and provider for “his girls,” as he had often referred to her and her mother. He had been kindhearted to those he met, strong in his belief in God and a person who was always willing to lend a hand to help others. That was one of the reasons his sickness and subsequent death had taken a toll on both her and her mother.
He had requested only one promise of her, a promise she was living each day to fulfill. “Take care of my Odessa,” he’d said in what had been his final hours. “Promise that no matter what, you will take care of her, Lena. She’s my most precious gift that I’m leaving to you.”
His most precious gift.
How many men thought of the woman they loved, when they had dedicated their lives to for so many years, as their most precious gift? And she’d always wanted to find a man just like that, someone who would think of her that way. A man whose personality, ideals and beliefs so closely mirrored her father’s. She’d known that finding such a man wouldn’t be easy, and for a time, while in college, she’d thought she would have to settle for less.
She wasn’t exactly the type of woman that men eagerly sought out. A pleasing personality always managed to take a backseat to looks and body size. Unfortunately, Cassandra Tisdale had been right that day when she’d said that Lena wasn’t Morgan’s type. That only made her wonder even more why she was here, in the middle of the day in bed with him after having spent what would go down in her mind as the most memorable two hours she’d ever spent with a man. And an even more demanding question that refused to go away was why, when he could probably have any woman he wanted, he was intent on having her.
There was yet another question lurking deep in her mind. Now that he’d had her did he actually still want her? Did he still want to marry her and give her his baby? Or had she been nothing more than a puzzle he’d wanted to figure out and now that he had…
“What time do you have to pick your mom up today?”
Lena’s body tensed and her fingers gripped the bedcovers when she felt Morgan’s hot body edge even closer and the leg thrown across hers tighten. She’d thought he was still asleep. It had been so long, she wasn’t sure how one behaved afterward. Even now she felt it, that sensual ache between her thighs that begged for more of what he had given her earlier. She felt like a downright greedy hussy, and the sad thing about it was that she could no longer blame her wanton actions on her twin.
“Lena?”
The sound of his voice, a deep, husky, sexy tone, was close to her ear, and her body instantly responded when he licked her earlobe with a hot sweep of his tongue.
“Umm?” That was the only word she could manage between flushed lips and a throat that suddenly felt tight. She felt hot and breathless.
“What time do you have to leave to pick up Odessa?” he repeated in a husky whisper that made an even deeper throb in the area between her legs.
“I don’t,” she managed to get out. “One of the ladies at the center who Mom became friends with is having a birthday dinner this evening and she was invited. One of the lady’s daughters will be bringing Mom home later tonight. I was told not to expect her before eight.”
“And do you have any more appointments scheduled for today?” was his next question.
“No.”
“Good.”
Before she had an indication of what he was about to do, he quickly eased himself up on his elbows and turned her toward him to stare down at her. And then he did something else she didn’t expect, he tossed back the bedspread covering them, exposing their nakedness. But it wasn’t his own nudity that held his attention and interest, it was hers.
His gaze left her face and slowly moved down her body, and she could actually feel the heated desire that was emanating from his eyes. She also felt his erection as it got harder and harder, pressed against the backside of her thigh. He didn’t say anything, just got his fill looking.
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.
Forged of Steele Bundle Page 53
