Part 24 (2/2)
”You're not the horribly deformed girl you picture in your head. Toss that picture out of there.” He thought a moment. ”You can ride a horse, can't you?”
”Yes, but-” The denial broke off midsentence.
He gestured with an upraised palm as if to say, There you have it.
”Oh.” Illumination crossed her features. She raised a tentative smile. ”Oh! Take your trousers off, Luke. These, too.”
”Remember what I told you?” he said, obeying and sliding his clothing down his legs. ”My body is for your pleasure. It belongs to you.”
”Oh, my,” she breathed, reaching for him.
”Holy-!” He ground his teeth together at the exquisite pleasure of her explorative touches.
”This isn't anything like I imagined.”
”I suppose not.” Lord, she was a talker. He covered her mouth in a kiss until he couldn't bear her touches another second.
He helped her off with her pantaloons, and she turned one side of her body away from him. ”Don't hide from me now. I love all of you, Annie.”
She rolled to lie flat on the bed and with an air of solemn apprehension let him look at her. Her hips were not of equal proportions on both sides; one side of her pelvis jutted out a trifle farther than the other. Not caring a bit, he caressed her silken pale skin.
His attention became distracted by the wispy red-gold curls, the soft curve of her belly, the picture of her as a whole woman, flushed and lovely, with so many vivid emotions lighting her lovely face.
”You are beautiful, Annie,” he said, emotion thick in his throat.
”No,” she whispered.
”Beautiful.” He stroked her from shoulder to hip, knee to toe, kissed the seductive arch of her foot, the curve of her hip, the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her hot moist lips.
A tiny sob escaped her, hiccuping against his mouth, jutting a breast flat to his chest. He opened his eyes and saw hers, gray-green and luminous with tears. One rolled from the corner of her eye into the hair at her temple. Luke dried the path with his tongue.
A flood followed, a stream of tears that tasted of salt and ate a hole right into his heart. ”Don't cry,” he said gruffly.
”I'm not crying,” she denied.
”What are these then?”
”Sometimes my eyes leak when I'm happy.”
”Are you happy?”
She clutched his cheeks fiercely between her palms. ”I've never been so happy, Luke. You make me happy. You loving me makes me happy. I have wanted this. Have wished for and dreamed of this. I have loved you since I was ten years old. Don't make me wait any longer, please.”
”I wasn't the one holding things up.” He touched her then, finding her ready, finding her eager and responsive. Kissing her, he talked to himself, speaking silent reminders of caution and patience.
She would have none of it.
He tried to be gentle; she urged him to boldness. His attempt at preparing her body leisurely was thwarted by her insistence. When he would have paused, she demanded haste. And made a soft cry.
”I didn't want to hurt you,” he said.
”It doesn't hurt,” she a.s.sured him, framing his face with her hands.
”And your hip?”
”I'm perfectly fine. Thank you, Luke, thank you for showing me and loving me.”
He groaned and held himself still. He kissed her so she'd know he cherished her.
”I'm not going to break, you know.” She moved beneath him, a quivering flex of limbs and muscles that pushed him to the edge.
”I am,” he replied. He took a moment to gaze into her lovely eyes, to bask in the need and the love and the fire, collecting himself, but holding back while her muscles tightened and her limbs wrapped his body was like trying to stop a runaway train. The rhythm came from inside his head, the sensations from someplace deep and glittering, and there was no waiting.
Luke shuddered against her.
She'd fallen asleep. After the sleepless night before and the physical and emotional release of tension, it was no wonder. At the unfamiliar rustle of movement beside her, Annie opened her eyes, disoriented. The first thing she saw was the bare window with the setting sun streaking the sky purple and orange.
”Feel better?”
The deep voice brought a familiar thrill. She turned to see Luke sprawled beside her on top of the covers, dressed in his faded dungarees. Oh, my goodness. She nodded and gratefully noted the crisp white sheet that he'd placed over her. She held it to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The memory of their eager lovemaking sent a curl of delight all the way to her bare toes.
She had never imagined the wonder of it, the energy and heat of his mouth and body, the sensations of him sliding against her, into her.... She closed her eyes.
”Good. I sliced some ham and bread that Glenda sent. Are you hungry?”
Annie examined the freshly painted ceiling a moment, placing her sensual thoughts aside to consider his words and her empty stomach. ”A little.”
”Want to eat in bed or go out there?”
She studied his vivid blue eyes, let her gaze wander down to that glorious chest. ”Read my mind.”
His grin inched up. ”You wish I'd put my s.h.i.+rt on.”
”Nope.”
”You can't keep your hands off me, so you want to stay in here.”
”Something like that.”
He chuckled and kissed her. ”Lord, you're fun.”
She threaded her fingers into the ebony mat on his chest. ”Can I ask you something?”
”Anything.”
”Did I-did you....”
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