Beyond Temptation (13 page)

“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 clenching, 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.”

A
nd 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.

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.

Just the thought that once they were married he would have a right to this, a chance to share a bed with her every night, had him getting hard all over again. But he had to admit what he felt was something a lot more than just physical.

He
loved
her.

Lena slowly opened her eyes and glanced around the room. When she saw it was almost dark outside she jerked up in bed and glanced over at the clock. It wasn’t quite six yet.

She eased back down, released a long, ragged breath. She was alone, and for a moment that was a good thing. She needed to get her thoughts together. She closed her eyes again, and it didn’t take much to remember what she and Morgan had been doing for the majority of the afternoon. She felt sore between her legs like you wouldn’t believe. But that wasn’t all. Her mouth felt sore as well and she couldn’t help wondering if it was swollen. But each time she thought about Morgan’s kisses, deep, intense, and the way he would explore her mouth, plundering it, stealing her breath away and mating almost nonstop with
her tongue, she wondered just what kind of vitamins he was on.

Her nipples felt taut with her just thinking about how she responded to him, greedily taking what he was offering and then falling into peaceful sleep afterward. And when she would wake after her catnap he would be there, wide awake, with dark eyes staring down at her, focused, intent, hungry. His breathing would get shallow and she would automatically melt in a pool of succulent desire.

She heard a sound downstairs and knew that now was the perfect time to get up, get dressed and get out. The last thing she needed was for him to walk into the room while she was still in bed. If nothing else, she had discovered that when it came to Morgan Steele, she had little, if no, resistance left.

Slipping out of bed she began putting on her clothes. When she had awakened that morning she’d been a little confused, and now she was more confused than ever about just what was happening between her and Morgan.

Morgan pulled himself out of the pool after taking one last lap around it. Never in his life had he felt so rejuvenated, so bursting with energy…and so filled with love.

Now he fully understood how Chance and Bas felt. He clearly comprehended those possessive stares they would give their wives, and realized why on those days they would rush home from the office or show up late from lunch with twisted ties around their necks and silly grins on their faces.

He now had a firm handle on what emotions his two older brothers were dealing with. Hell, the only reason he had finally left Lena asleep to come downstairs for a swim was that, had he been in bed when she’d awakened, he would have been tempted to make love to her again.

Tempted, hell! He would have made love to her just as sure as there was a Charlotte sky overhead.

He began drying off with the huge towel, knowing that he and Lena needed to talk. They needed to announce their intentions to marry to their families and to anyone else who wanted to listen. He was ready to go to the tallest building and begin shouting.

“I’m leaving now, Morgan.”

He turned and saw her standing in the doorway that separated his family room from his patio. Seeing her standing there, looking as sexy as sexy could get, and remembering what they had shared
most of the afternoon sent a shiver of deep desire combined with hot excitement through him.

He tossed aside the towel and began walking toward her. When he got within three feet of her he noticed the apprehension in her eyes, the uncertainty, and he wondered, how could she not know, not sense how he felt at that moment? But then he had to admit they hadn’t had a normal relationship. He had been a man with a plan, first using business and then ultimate pleasure to seduce her, win her over. But he had a feeling he hadn’t completely won her over. She was having doubts, and from the look in her eyes, lots of them.