Read A Broken Christmas Online

Authors: Claire Ashgrove

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Holidays, #Military

A Broken Christmas (17 page)

BOOK: A Broken Christmas
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Her teeth nipped at his lower lip, a sign he had come to know like the back of his hand. Desire caught her as well. But more than just arousal registered behind the reverent way her fingertips explored his bare chest. As they dipped lower, sliding over his body as if she sought to etch him into memory, the muscles in his abdomen bunched beneath her hand. The lightweight cotton of his pants pulled tight across his groin, and his cock stirred against his thigh.

He tangled his good hand in her hair, tipped her head back, and gave in to the hunger raging through his body.
Aimee
. His wife. The woman he would die for. The woman he wanted to bear his children.

Brief regret threatened to tailspin Kyle out of bliss. He pushed it hastily aside. That was then. This was now. He would find a way to reconcile the both later.

As if Aimee sensed his fleeting retreat, she pulled away from the kiss and edged out of his embrace. Wanting to kick himself, Kyle reached for her hand to draw her back into his arms. But she evaded his seeking fingers and rose to her feet. His eyes plead with hers. “Wait. Don’t—”

Aimee grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head. “Don’t what?”

As she reached behind her back to unfasten the wine-colored scrap of lace that covered her full breasts, his throat closed, and he shook his head. One shrug of her shoulders sent the delicate fabric tumbling to the floor. In the same fluid motion, she popped the button on her jeans. Her breasts swayed as she bent over, tucked her fingertips into the waistband, and shimmied the denim over her hips.

A greedy rumble broke from Kyle’s throat. Two nights ago, he’d been too out of his mind to appreciate the slender curves and satin skin that held the power to make him dizzy. But as she stood before him, wearing only a thong that identically matched the discarded bit of lace on the floor, he imbibed fully. His gaze touched every gentle slope, every well-toned muscle, and his already rapid heartbeat became erratic.

He caught her by the hips and pulled her forward to press a lingering kiss to her belly. Her fingers slipped through his hair. She tipped her head back, and the ends of her rich brown tresses brushed his knuckles. Taunted by the sweet perfume that gathered on her skin, he trailed the tip of his tongue up the centerline of her body to the deep valley between her breasts where the fragrance lingered heavily. At the heady aroma, Kyle’s fingertips bit into her hipbones. He drew back with a ragged gasp.

Like golden nuggets of amber, Aimee’s eyes glinted down at him. She smiled, and he felt himself falling, tumbling deeper into the magic that their shared emotion created. He swallowed to wet his dry throat and deliberately loosened his fingers. His voice scraped his own ears as he instructed, “Lie down.”

She let out a light laugh. “The bed’s just around the corner.”

Sliding his hands around her narrow hips, he squeezed the tight curves of her bottom. “If I wait for the bed, we won’t get very far.”

Still chuckling, Aimee sank to her knees, then curling her legs beside her, sat down. As she stretched out on her side, Kyle stood and shucked his pants. He said a silent prayer his leg wouldn’t embarrass him, and with one hand braced on the couch, lowered himself to the floor. To his surprise, he didn’t stumble. But to his consternation, facing her meant trapping his good arm against the carpet. Annoyed by the uselessness of his right hand, Kyle crouched over her. He scattered kisses across her shoulder blade, traced the indentation of her spine with the tip of his tongue. His slow, sensual exploration of her body gradually coaxed her onto her belly, then over to the opposite side, so he could lay on his unfeeling side.

“Better?” she asked quietly.

A touch of heat crept into his cheeks. She knew him too well. He should have known better than to think he could disguise what he was after. Gliding his hand over her hip, he chuckled. “I want to feel you, Aimee.” His fingertips slipped across her belly, lower to the thin patch of curls at the juncture of her thighs. His voice thickened. “All over.”

Her breath caught, and her long eyelashes fluttered. She flattened a foot on the floor, parting her legs. Moist heat met Kyle’s fingertip. His body shuddered at her fiercely feminine response, and his cock pulsed, warning him that toying with Aimee would only see him to a speedy finish.

He ignored the slow burn of need that invaded his blood and stroked the sensitive nub hidden between her slickened folds until her hips followed the motion of his hand. When she clutched at his bicep, and a plaintive mewl bubbled in her throat, he slowly pushed two fingers inside her warm wet depths. Aimee’s nails bit into his skin. Her teeth pierced her lower lip.

Recognizing the signs of her pleasure and seeking to draw it out, Kyle eased his hand from between her legs and drew his moistened fingertip up the length of her body. Those thick lashes of kohl lifted. Arousal glowed in her unblinking gaze. “That’s cruel,” she murmured.

He couldn’t hold in an amused smirk. “No, bathing me was cruel.”

In an instant, he realized his mistake. Catching on to his teasing, Aimee’s eyes assumed a playful light. She reached between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his straining erection. With one firm squeeze, she brought his body surging into the palm of her hand. “The bath was, huh?”

Kyle muttered an oath that prompted her into light laughter. But her educated hands, and the equal knowledge of his body that she possessed, didn’t hold an ounce of amusement. She slid her satin palm down his hard shaft, swirled her thumb over his swollen tip. Pressure built at the base of his spine, pulsing ecstasy through his limbs. For the first time in nine months, every nerve ending came to life. He exhaled in a hiss and curled his unhindered hand into the carpet.

Christ, she knew exactly what to do to turn him into putty.

“Aimee—”

Knowing all too well the effect her fingers had on him, she grazed her palm up his abdomen and flattened it against his chest. “Your heart’s racing.”

“Mm-hm.” He gave her a false look of irritation. “Imagine that.” Leaning into her, he captured her mouth with his and caught her wrist in his hand. He lifted her palm off his body, applied gentle pressure to her arm, and levered her onto her back. When she lay sprawled beneath him, he pushed with his good leg, coming over her to straddle her thighs. “Game time’s over.” He dropped his head and captured a tight nipple between his lips.

Aimee arched her back on a low moan.

The sound destroyed all thoughts he had entertained of thoroughly re-acquainting himself with Aimee’s body. His cock pulsed in answer, and a bead of moisture cooled his overheated flesh as it trickled down his shaft.

“Damn,” he muttered. Left arm shaking from the strain of holding his weight off her and himself in check, he lifted his head to pull in a deep breath.

Seemingly determined to fragment his control, Aimee looped her arms around his neck and urged him to lower his body. At the same time, she lifted her hips and slid her slick feminine flesh down the length of his erection. Moist heat demanded an immediate response. Sighing, Kyle sank into her arms, his hips fitting snug between her parted thighs. As he caught her mouth and drew her into a ravenous kiss, he thrust his hips forward and sank deep inside her warm sheath.

A gasp tore from his throat. Ecstasy saturated his senses, and his body convulsed. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to curb impending release and sucked in short breaths through his nose. She was everywhere, surrounding him body and soul, and there was no more perfect place in this world.

She moved beneath him, rocking her hips so he glided deeper into silken heat. He felt the flutter of her flesh ripple around his cock, and Kyle yielded to overwhelming sensation. Pulling his hips back, he retreated slowly, then pushed back in, gliding all the way to the mouth of her womb.

****

Aimee clung to Kyle, afraid if she let go, she would fall off a dangerous ledge. Her hips moved in time with his, taking him in and out of her body. Each thrust, each retreat, sent shocks of pleasure coursing through her veins. She struggled to catch her breath. To overcome the staggering way he stretched her wide, filled her up, and nudged her toward oblivion.

She’d never quite forgotten the perfect pleasure he was capable of creating, but her memory hadn’t held on to the finite details—the warmth of his skin, the pleasant way his powerful body dominated hers.

The amazing ability he possessed to time each thrust so he flawlessly stroked that central place of pleasure that made her tremble each time he glided through her flesh.

She surrendered to a guttural moan and arched her back as the need for faster, harder, stole over her. Her hands slid down the thick muscles along his spine and dug into his tight buttocks, guiding him into the pace she desired. His breath rasped against her cheek. His body hammered into hers. And though nothing about his lovemaking was gentle now, the brush of his lips against her temple, the whisper of her name that tumbled off his lips, held unique tenderness.

Where his forearms touched her shoulders, she felt the shaking of his muscles. A tremor that mirrored the trembling in her thighs. Bliss pounded into her. Carried her up, up, up to that dangerous plateau she both feared and cherished, until rapture became unbearable, and she splintered apart. With a sharp cry, she dug her nails into Kyle’s lower back. Climax claimed her, blending her soft mewls with Kyle’s hoarse shout.

Gradually, their bodies slowed. His sweat-slicked chest rubbed against hers as he lowered his weight and rested his forehead on her shoulder. Their ragged breathing echoed in the surrounding silence.

Kyle turned his head and gently kissed the side of her neck. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

A slow smile spread across her face. She lifted her heavy arms and wrapped them around his narrow waist. “I’ve missed you too, Kyle.”

“I wish I could carry you to bed.”

She lazily trailed her nails down his spine. “You could lead me by the hand.”

His chuckle tickled her skin. “You sure you want me there? I’m apt to keep you up all night.”

“Mm.” Aimee closed her eyes on a contented sigh. “Is that a promise?”

“Yeah.” He raked his teeth across her shoulder. “It’s a promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Kyle woke to the soft comfort of down bedding and grey light peeking through the bedroom window. He rolled over, limbs heavy, sated beyond imagination. Aimee’s pillow was empty, but her sweet fragrance lingered on his skin. The faint vanilla sugar brought vivid pictures of their unending lovemaking to life in his mind. Astride him, beneath him, stretched out alongside him—the only barriers they didn’t demolish were those created by his injured leg. If he could have taken her against the wall before they ever made it to the bed, he would have, his need for her had reached such critical heights.

So where was she?

Groggy, he yawned and pushed upright in the tangled sheets. The scent of roasting turkey reached his nose, reminding him what day it was. Christmas. Shit. He didn’t have a thing for Aimee.

He ran his hand through his short hair and glanced at the clock. Damn, it was almost noon. No wonder his eyelids felt like lead. He’d spent most of the last two days—save for one incredible, all-night, erotic adventure—in bed. Dishes clattered in the kitchen, prompting him to frown. How long had she been up?

Yanking at the covers, he managed to untie his legs enough he could slide them off the mattress. He tested his bad leg, found it surprisingly cooperative. Not bad, considering the use it had seen last night. The stairs just might be doable. He tossed the rest of the covers aside and stood to stretch. His spine cracked, loosening sleepy joints. Another yawn possessed him, and he scrubbed at his eyes to rid them of gritty sand. First things first—shower. Er. Bath. Maybe not. The divided master bath had more space in the sink area than the actual bathing section. Maybe he could use the small alcove to his advantage and actually pull off a shower.

BOOK: A Broken Christmas
3.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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