A Promise of Thunder (11 page)

“Oh, God, I don’t know what I’m doing. This isn’t right. I can’t.”

Grady groaned, all restraint fleeing in a surge of passion so profound it made a mockery of his Indian training. “I suspect you’ve never been loved like I’m going to love you,” he managed to say. “Don’t stop me now. I think I’ve waited for this moment my whole life.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his lips. “Kiss me, Storm.”

She was still murmuring no and shaking her head when she raised her lips to his mouth. A thousand thoughts flew across her mind, but all she could think to say was, “You’re wicked, Grady Stryker.”

“I try to be,” he replied, only seconds before his mouth covered hers hungrily. The thrust of his tongue into her mouth sent shock waves through her body, and Storm felt herself floundering in a strange world where only feelings existed. Grady had kissed her before, but this
time his kisses promised more, much more. More than she wanted to know. He kissed her thoroughly, ravenously, claiming the length of her tongue with bold ferocity.

When his lips finally left her trembling mouth the torment did not cease. It merely intensified as they slid down the slim column of her throat to capture the tightly curled tip of her breast. He spent long, torturous minutes nipping first one then the other tender bud with strong white teeth, then laving them with the rough warmth of his tongue to take the pleasure/pain away. Did all men enjoy doing such things? Storm wondered dazedly. Buddy had never attempted so brazen an act.

Pausing, Grady gazed into Storm’s passion-glazed eyes and smiled at the arrested expression on her face. “Did you like that, sweet? It’s only the beginning.”

The beginning of what? Storm wondered distractedly. Curiosity overrode caution. Her reply was to sink her fingers into his long hair and pull him back to her breasts. This time he kissed tantalizing circles around the firm mounds before drawing each nipple in turn into his mouth and suckling.

“Oh.” She arched against him, pressing herself more fully into the warmth of his mouth. His suckling and nuzzling continued until suddenly Storm realized that another dimension to her torment had been added. His hand had found its way beneath the hem of her nightdress!

Grady was lost in a world of sensual pleasure, thrilled by Storm’s innocent response to his loving. Her flesh was the color of cream and felt as soft and velvety as a baby’s. He wanted to taste and touch every inch of her succulent flesh, wanted to thrust his hardness into her softness again and again, until she cried out in rapture. He wanted her to feel more pleasure with him than she had with her husband. He wanted
his
name on her lips when she reached her peak, not the name of a dead man.

Storm moaned as Grady’s hand stroked along the inside of her thigh, sliding upward, finally coming to rest on the nest of blonde curls between her legs. She felt his fingers tense as they quested upward and found the moistness she had never been aware of before. He toyed for a moment in that downy softness before gently spiraling inward with one finger. Each sensation was new and unique, and Storm grasped Grady’s shoulders to keep herself from falling into a dark abyss of sensual awareness such as she had never experienced before. Then he touched that place around which her passion stemmed, and Storm nearly flew off his lap.

“Grady, oh God!”

“Relax, sweetheart. Take it slow and easy. Scream, cry, do whatever you want, I won’t leave you.”

Carefully he inserted another finger inside her, thrusting gently as his thumb rotated the tiny nub of flesh at the entrance, intensifying her pleasure a thousandfold. Vivid flashes of
lightning—or did the light come from within her?—set her body aflame as his fingers stirred her flesh to raw, aching response. Storm knew that what Grady was doing to her was sinful, that the reason Buddy never made her feel like this was because it was too shameful to enjoy something so carnally satisfying. Only a devil would know just how and where to touch her to make her cry out and writhe and act like a wanton.

“Please, I don’t …” The words ended in a groan and shriek as the sweet ecstasy of climax took her by surprise. Thunder shook the earth, lightning charged her body from the inside out and she felt herself spinning—spinning … She rode the crest of sensation, hovering between sanity and madness for long, pleasure-filled minutes.

“What’s happening to me?” Her cry reached out to touch Grady’s heart in a way it had never been touched before.

“Have you never attained climax before?” Grady asked, stunned. He could tell by the glazed look in her eyes that she didn’t know what he was talking about. Then the look faded, replaced by an incredulous expression of disbelief as she lost her hold on reality.

When she returned to awareness moments later—or was it hours—Storm was lying on the bed, naked as the day she was born, and Grady was standing over her, grinning down at her with the aggressive leer of a savage aware of his power. He had lit a lantern, and soft light
filled the room with dancing shadows. With growing apprehension she watched him release the string holding his breechclout in place. Her eyes followed it as it dropped to the floor.

“Look at me.” Her eyes widened hugely as they slid upward to his groin. For the first time in her life Storm saw a fully aroused male organ. It protruded like a rigid shaft—strong, bold, sure, from a thick nest of coarse ebony at the juncture of his thighs. He displayed no modesty as she stared at him, only pride in his body and the knowledge that he could give her pleasure.

“Storm.” Embarrassed by her burning perusal, her eyes returned to his face. “Touch me.”

Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Touch you?”

He knelt on the bed, the size and strength of him frightening, yet oddly stirring. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, for she had never seen Buddy nude, but she was almost positive her husband hadn’t been as generously endowed. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips in a gesture that sent Grady’s senses reeling.

His eyes focused on the way her tongue probed provocatively at the corners of her mouth and licked across the soft pads of her lush lips. Every nerve and sinew came alive with the pleasure that he knew would soon be his.

“Touch me,” he repeated. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not much different from any other man.”

Not different?
Storm thought mentally. She wanted to disagree, to tell him he was unique,
that no other man could compare with him. His strong, angular face, proud bearing, and dark coppery skin proclaimed him as different from other men as night from day.

When she resisted his plea, he reached out and grasped her hand, placing it on his distended member. Her eyes grew enormous, but curiosity overrode reluctance as her nerveless fingers stroked up and down his shaft and over its velvety tip. He groaned and lurched against her hand. When she looked up at him his eyes were closed and his face strained, as if caught in the throes of agony. Then his hand closed around hers, wrapping it more tightly around his hardness, thrusting into the soft warmth of her palm.

“Enough!” he gasped, flinging her hand away and dropping onto the bed beside her. “Now, sweet lady, we shall see if Thunder can tame the Storm.”

Rising to his knees and elbows, he lay full length atop her, wedging himself snugly between her thighs. Then he was kissing her, everywhere his lips could reach, teasing, nipping, tantalizing her with the hot moistness of his mouth. His hands moved restlessly over her flesh, stroking, caressing, seeking—bold—arousing, making her feel things she had never felt before. When one hand inserted itself between their bodies and probed between her legs, Storm jerked in violent response.

“Don’t, please! I don’t understand what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m making you happy, lady,” Grady replied as he flexed his hips and placed his swollen shaft into position at the cleft of her womanhood. His hands sank beneath her to cup her buttocks, holding her tightly as he flexed again, parting, penetrating, sliding into the liquid heat of her. Deep, deeper … When he was fully embedded in her, Storm sucked in a ragged breath as she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. Nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for the shock of total possession by a man as magnificent as Grady Stryker. Never had she felt such fullness or pleasure with Buddy, she thought wonderingly.

“Oh, lady, I’ve never felt anything so good,” Grady groaned against her lips.

He stroked her slowly, knowledgeably, both inside and out, with his hands and lips and shaft. She tilted her hips against him, unconsciously seeking more, and he dutifully obliged. Suddenly the slow rise and fall of his buttocks grew wildly frantic as he strained toward climax, and Storm’s senses erupted into wild, swirling pleasure. Thrusting, withdrawing, thrusting, she surrendered fully to his breathtaking ferocity, meeting his thrusts in staccato bursts of brilliant response that left Grady breathless with wonder.

Thunder’s fury has tamed the Storm, he thought triumphantly. Nothing nature created could compare to the fierce, wild pleasure he found in Storm Kennedy’s arms.

Storm soared, lifted on the wings of Grady’s passion. The dazzling promise of climax dangled before her eyes like a ripe plum and she reached for it, giving herself up to the heat of Grady’s loving. The second climax of her life, when it came moments later, exploded inside her in wave after wave of lush, sensual rapture, and she cried out in unrestrained awe. Through a gathering mist she felt his body’s forces straining, focusing on release. His muscles tensed, his body surged and withdrew, his thrusts grew furious and uncontrolled.

The white-hot splendor that washed over Grady was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His body was racked by spasms, his face a mask of agony and ecstasy as his seed spurted into the receptive heat of her womb.

When at last his breathing slowed to dull thunder, Grady slid from Storm’s tight sheath and lay beside her. Fitting her into the curve of his body, he continued to stroke and caress her. He felt strong and invincible, stronger than he ever felt in his life, strong enough to want her again … now.

“Storm.” His voice was soft. “Are you all right?”

Her muffled reply was a bit shaky. “Yes.”

“Is it true, what you said earlier? About never having reached a climax with your husband, I mean.”

Storm buried her face in the pillow, too embarrassed to allow him to see her confusion. She never even knew women
could
feel
pleasure in the marriage bed. Or wanted to.

“I—why must we speak of such things?”

“Because I want to know. Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Dammit, why must you know what transpired in my marriage bed?” Her anger was brilliant. “Will it make you feel any more manly to know that I never felt anything remotely like that with Buddy? Must you destroy every aspect of a marriage I thought perfect until you showed up in my life?”

Grady felt ten feet tall. Storm’s reluctant disclosure brought Grandfather’s words instantly to mind. Did Storm Kennedy really hold the key to his peace of mind and happiness? Only time would tell, he thought as his arms tightened possessively around her. As tired as he was, he knew he wouldn’t sleep this night. There was too much to think about. And he wanted to be fully alert in the unlikely event that the two men who had attacked Storm in the dead of night returned.

“Go to sleep, Storm. It’s late and you’ve been through a great deal tonight.”

Storm preferred not to think right now. She was tired, so tired. Yet she knew when her good sense returned there would be issues to be resolved, recriminations to be confronted—and a conscience that must be placated. But it was difficult to think, let alone make decisions with her body still tingling from Grady’s hands and mouth and her insides churning with lingering pleasure. Tomorrow, she
thought sleepily, tomorrow I’ll confront the shame and embarrassment of the terrible sin I have committed.

Storm came awake slowly. She could hear the wind howling through the shattered window, but she felt cozy and comfortable, wrapped in a warm nest of blankets. Blankets? She knew of no blanket with the feel of silky strength like that which surrounded her. Shattered window? Suddenly the events of last night came to her with devastating clarity.

She must have been out of her mind to allow a half-breed savage into her bed! And if she remembered correctly, she had responded to his loving with a dazzling display of shameful abandon. Because her response was completely at odds with what she had experienced with her husband, Storm knew that it was evil and sinful.

Dragging in a shuddering sigh, Storm slowly turned her head and found Grady awake and regarding her with an indecipherable look on his face. “You’re awake,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

Memories of the pleasure they had shared during the night softened the harsh lines of his face. Though there were purple smudges of exhaustion around his eyes, he gave no indication that he had spent the night watching Storm sleep, marveling at the pure lines of her face and form and curling long strands of her lustrous blonde hair around his fingers. When
she stirred and opened her eyes, Grady hardened in instant arousal. Just thinking about making love to her again gave him strength.

Storm couldn’t bring herself to look Grady in the eye so she stared at his chest. It was smooth, well-developed, and bronze, with a very light sprinkling of black hair. The outlines of his muscles seemed to stretch his skin to magnificent proportions. Was there nowhere she could look without imagining his proud, regal length stretched atop hers, the exquisite fullness of him filling her …

“Stop!” The word burst past her lips in a loud explosion of denial before she realized she had spoken aloud.

Grady grinned with wry amusement. “Have I done something wrong?” He hadn’t done anything—yet—but he was seriously considering it.

“You did everything wrong,” Storm said, finally finding the courage to raise her eyes to face him squarely.

“Was it wrong to save you from those two men, who would have done God knows what to you?”

“No, not that, I—oh, stop confusing me. You know what you did last night.”