Each Time We Love (54 page)

Vaguely aware of what she was doing, Adam smothered a curse
and in between stinging little kisses on her mouth and chin managed to
remove his upper clothing—cravat, shirt, vest, jacket flying wildly in
all directions. Parting from her only long enough to get rid of his
boots, he jerked her back into his embrace and kissed her with a carnal
explicitness that had them both trembling with the need for even more
of the same. He could not get enough of her, could not hold her close
enough, and, his hands on her hips, he slid her sensuously against the
tightly swollen length of his bulging shaft, groaning aloud at the
pleasure it gave him. There was a feral, hasty madness about all of his
actions, almost as if he feared that she would be torn out of his arms
at any moment—or that sanity would return to one of them.

Naked except for his breeches, with a growl of satisfaction he
felt her hands moving across his bare shoulders and broad back, her
nails scraping his flesh tantalizingly whenever his teeth erotically
grazed her nipples. He wanted his hands everywhere on her, and heedless
of the damage he was causing to her expensive gown, he roughly stripped
her out of it, the garment pooling in a pastel hue around their feet.

Savanna naked in his arms was the most intoxicatingly erotic
sensation he had never experienced in his life. The feel of her soft,
supple flesh under his roaming hands was such an earthy delight that he
was nearly shaking from the powerful force of emotions she aroused. He
ached for her, ached for her as he had for no other woman. The
passionate kisses, the sweetness of her flesh under his lips, the shape
and texture of her lovely body beneath his exploring fingers, weren't
enough anymore; the demand to sheathe himself, to feel the silken heat
of her body close around him, was driving him to reckless heights.

Only half aware of what he was doing, he turned their bodies
until it was Savanna's hips that rested against the desk. His hands on
her shoulders, he gently guided her down onto the smooth surface, her
long legs dangling over the edge of the desk, her bright hair spread
out like a fiery mantle around her shoulders. Poised between her
thighs, her soft, lovely body laid out before him, Adam greedily drank
in her charms. From the passion-bright gleam of her eyes to the
enticing thrust of her bosom and the lush flare of her hips to the
tight fiery curls between her legs, she was blatant carnal temptation.
Had he ever even dreamed such an arousing sight? Unable to help
himself, he bent over her, his lips closing urgently over her breasts,
his knowing hands stroking her belly and thighs.

Burning for him, every fiber of her being aching and eager for
his caress, beneath his ravening mouth and searching hands Savanna
twisted wantonly on the cool surface of the desk, her fingers eagerly
finding and rubbing the pebble hardness of Adam's own nipples. He
groaned with obvious delight, but, intent on further exploration, her
hands slipped lower, following the dark arrow of hair as it flowed down
his body until she encountered his breeches. Gently she traced the
shape of his manhood beneath the fabric, her fingers sliding and
caressing the hard length of him, her wandering hands inflaming them
both.

It was a remarkably sensual sensation for Savanna to be lying
there on the top of his desk, her legs splayed on either side of Adam's
hips, the wood smooth and cool against her back and buttocks and the
velvety heat of his body burning against her breasts and stomach as he
half leaned, half lay, upon her. The insistent tug of his mouth on her
nipples was an erotic pleasure all its own, but the trembling awareness
of his hands sliding slowly up her legs to the curls between her
thighs, the feel of her flesh parting as he deepened the deliberate
exploration of his fingers, had Savanna thrashing uncontrollably from
the hungry excitement that welled up within her. Again and again she
surged up against his invading fingers, soft mewling sounds coming from
her mouth, her head moving wildly from side to side as Adam stroked her
to the brink of ecstasy.

Already consumed by the needs of his own body, Savanna's sweet
abandonment overpowered Adam. Smothering an impatient curse, he raised
himself upright and rugged open his breeches. His dark blue eyes
glittering brightly from the storm of emotion which propelled him, he
lifted her hips slightly and, head thrown back, eyes closing in
exultation, he drove his throbbing shaft deeply within her eager body.

The intoxicating sensation of her silken flesh closing hotly
around him made Adam sway drunkenly and mutter, like a joyous litany,
"Oh, God! Oh, God! Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart…"

It was savage, primitive joining. There was no finesse about
their actions—it was raw, primeval man with his woman, and both of them
were too snared by the shudders of lusty delight that coursed wildly
through them to wonder at this fierce mating. His hands gripped her
hips, holding her firmly in place as again and again he plunged
rampantly into her tight slick channel, the blind, unbridled pleasure
she gave him only increasing his frantic movements.

As trapped as he, Savanna was utterly dominated by her erotic
senses, thrilled by the power of Adam's lovemaking, shaken by the depth
of the emotions that spiraled out of control through her. As heedlessly
as he, she met every thrust of his big body, soft moans of intense
pleasure coming from deep in her throat every time his shaft drove into
her. Eyes closed, body straining to meet his, hands reaching wildly for
him, she whirled faster and faster toward completion with every
powerful thrust he made. Ecstasy, when it came, stunned her—pleasure
suddenly spiraling explosively through her, startling a small, shocked
scream of delight from her.

Even lost in his own carnal world, Adam heard her scream and
his dark blue eyes snapped open and intently he watched her features,
exulting in the myriad expressions of astonished pleasure that were
revealed. The look of wonder on her beloved face pushed him to the
pinnacle, and bending over her, he roughly caught her mouth with his
and kissed her frantically, and pounded urgently into her, discovering
for himself almost immediately that same fierce ecstasy that had
overtaken Savanna…

Passion spent, their bodies still joined, he collapsed gently
onto her soft flesh. Giddily savoring the tiny aftershocks of pleasure
that trembled through her, Savanna welcomed the warm, heavy weight of
Adam's body as he lay half slumped over her, his mouth now gently
nuzzling her neck and collarbone, his hands still holding her hips
tightly to him as he continued to move lazily against her. It was a
wonderful sensation, but as her own labored breathing lessened, reality
began to creep into her sated senses. All too soon she became
mortifyingly aware of her undeniably lewd position on his desk, aware,
too of how wantonly she had responded to his drugging lovemaking, and a
wave of embarrassment swept over her.

Shame clawed its way up through her and she was suddenly
desperate to get away from him and the memory of this savage,
tempestuous mating. Her cheeks flaming with mortification, she shoved
insistently against his shoulders and wiggled forcefully, her one
thought to flee.

Her increasingly violent struggles brought Adam sharply back
from the soft, dreamy haven in which he floated to ugly reality.
Instantly, bitterly, realizing that he had done his suit no good by his
reckless actions, he immediately levered himself away from her. In one
swift movement he refastened his breeches and turned to help Savanna,
but she would have none of him.

The moment she was free, Savanna had scrambled off the desk
and grabbed up her torn and ruined gown. Not risking a glance in his
direction, she clasped the gown to her, her movements jerky and frantic
as she tried to put it on. Her thoughts were jumbled, embarrassment and
shame making her clumsy as the fabric seemed to have a life of its own,
refusing to go where she wanted it to. She wasn't even aware of Adam
attempting to help her; like a wounded animal, she simply wanted to
escape, and that need was so strong that with a frustrated half curse,
half sob, she finally dragged the ill-used gown over her head and, not
caring that it gaped open here and there, bolted from the room.

His eyes bleak, Adam stared at the doorway through which she
had disappeared. The urge to go after her was strong, and he had
hastily donned his discarded clothing intending to do just that when
the unpleasant thought occurred to him that perhaps
now
wasn't precisely the best time to confront her with what had happened.
She had been wild to escape from him, her embarrassment a palpable
thing. Should he give her a chance to recover her obviously ragged
composure? Yet did he dare to wait until she'd had time to think about
what had happened between them? Time to erect more barriers between
them?

A rap on the door interrupted his considerations and, torn
between the fierce hope that it was Savanna and the cold certainty that
she would be the last person looking for him at this moment, he flung
open the door. Jack Mooney stood there, his rough-hewn features wearing
a slightly worried expression.

"Have you noticed," Jack began immediately, "that there is a
storm brewing up outside?"

Adam hadn't, and waving Jack inside the room, he shut the door
behind them. Walking over to the window, he noticed that the sunlight
had disappeared and that there were ominous dark gray clouds flying
across the previously blue sky. A storm! Adam thought viciously. How
appropriate!

Glancing back at Jack, he said, "I don't think it should
trouble us too much. Have you and Toby settled in?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. The horses are stabled and"— Jack suddenly
grinned—"we just got through sampling your dinner!"

Despite his grim mood, Adam smiled faintly. "I trust you
enjoyed it?"

"Right tasty," Jack confessed, his grin vanishing as he
continued in a more serious tone. "Storm bothers me. I'd figured
originally that me and Toby could conceal ourselves a little distance
from the house— just far enough away so that, between us, we'd be able
to watch the entire house, yet close enough that if Micajah or Jeremy
did slip past us, a shout would bring us running. Storm'll make it
difficult. Didn't want to alert that bastard Micajah that we're here,
but, considering the storm and the lack of visibility it'll cause,
think I'd feel better if one of us openly patrolled the house. Might
make him think twice about doing anything and we'd still have the
surprise of one of us inside the house. Or if you'd rather, both of us
inside—whichever you'd prefer."

A crack of thunder suddenly broke the quiet and a moment later
the black sky was lit by a jagged streak of lightning. As if the
lightning had been a signal, the heavens opened up and heavy rains
lashed against the earth. Hoping that the storm wouldn't last more than
a few hours and doubting that Micajah would have formulated definite
plans already, Adam said calmly, "Why don't you two familiarize
yourself with the house until the rain lets up, and then we can decide
our strategy for the night. If the weather is a factor for us, I'm sure
that even if Micajah were lurking about, which I doubt, the rain would
affect his plans also."

Jack nodded agreeably. "I'll get Toby."

Midnight came and went and still the storm raged. If anything,
it had increased in violence and power, and the strong wind that
accompanied the driving rain and flashes of lightning made the house
creak with odd noises. The whine and snarl of the blowing shrubbery
against the roof and the sides of the building only intensified the
cacophony of sound, making it impossible to hear anything but the noise
of the storm itself.

Jack and Toby were busy making their rounds of the house,
continually, discreetly checking doors and windows. Savanna was no
doubt asleep in her room, and having dined earlier with Adam, Elizabeth
was at present contentedly knitting a shawl out of fine cashmere
thread. Adam, feeling like a chained tiger, was locked in his study,
glaring murderously at the snifter of brandy in front of him.

The savage emotions inside him matched the fury of the storm
roaring outside, and taking a long gulp of his brandy, Adam was
undecided whether to blow out his brains or strangle Savanna. Maybe
both, he thought with a savage smile.

He was already half drunk, and while he had no real intention
of harming either himself or Savanna, he was fighting against the urge
to bound up the stairs and smash his way into her room. She had to be
made to understand the situation, he decided Wearily. She
must
realize that he loved her and that there was no way in hell that he
would ever allow her to divorce him! Did she think that it was just any
woman he threw on his desk and made such frantic love to? She was his
wife, goddammit! He took another long gulp of his brandy. She was going
to
stay
his wife and she was also, he vowed with
a black scowl, going to stay in his bed!

Brandy fumes deadening his senses, intent on his own grim
thoughts, the racket of the storm drowning out any warning, Adam wasn't
even aware of the stealthy opening of the window behind him. Didn't
hear the muffled sound as a dark figure climbed swiftly into the room
and crept slowly up on him.

At the last moment, though, some sixth sense must have warned
Adam and he suddenly spun around, staring half surprised, half
resigned, into Micajah's contorted features, a stout club held
menacingly in one beefy fist. A powerful sensation of deja vu swept
over Adam and the blind instinct for survival made him lunge at his
enemy, but the brandy had dulled his reflexes and Micajah's club was
already descending…