Take a Chance on Me (127 page)

Emma let go of him and leaned back on her hands to support herself. She threw back her head and cried,

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you and called you names!"

It was difficult to keep the suction going while laughing, so Thomas moved his kiss to the hot and tender skin of her throat. While he did this, his hands came down on her inner thighs.

Emma rose up to look at him.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," he said.

She whimpered, and let her legs fall open.

"Wider. All the way." He looked from the tender juncture of her thighs back to her eyes, and saw the sweet female vulnerability in both places. "I need to touch everywhere, Emma. I need to see everything. Do everything."

He lowered his head. When his fingers spread her open, Emma sucked hard on her bottom lip to stop from screaming. Then his tongue lapped, slicked around, probed, while he slid the tip of his middle finger inside her. Right about then, she gave up trying to be quiet.

"And you don't have to apologize, sweet-cheeks—you're awful cute when you're calling me names."

Thomas laughed deep, pushing two fingers in to the last knuckle as he smiled up at her. "But you're even cuter when you're all wet and swollen and ready to be fucked."

"Thomas—"

"You sure you still want me?"

She laughed, then gasped as he whirled his thumb over her exposed clitoris. "Oh, yeah."

"Do you want this, Emma?"

"More," she breathed.

He pushed in a third finger, stretching her impossibly wide, and decided maybe this was the approximate thickness of his cock, although right at that moment it felt as big around as a grain silo.

He pistoned his fingers in and out of her, pressing against her swollen little cit. He felt it pulse with each rock of his hand.

"Now!" Emma yelled out, meeting his invasion with her own greed. "Please! Oh, my God, Thomas!

Now!"

Just as she began to spasm against his fingers, Thomas pulled his hand away, pushed her on her back and replaced his fingers with all of his cock—one long, slick slide home.

She rippled against him and the sound of her hungry little moans made it nearly impossible to keep from mindlessly ramming into her. But he stayed focused, stayed with her as she shuddered, took her pleasure, and then took more.

Emma came hard and steady while the exquisite cycle went on and on. He entered her, slid all the way out, then pushed slowly way back in—bigger and thicker than anything she'd ever had inside her before. She gasped for breath.

When she could, she opened her eyes to see that exceptional face gazing at her, the skin around his eyes pulled in concentration and pleasure.

"My beautiful Emma." His hands cupped her cheeks and his mouth came down on hers, and his hot, sleek tongue licked into her opened lips, pierced her mouth as he pierced her body.

Good Lord, he was blistering and huge and heavy and all over her and inside her, and she let herself go, let herself feel for the first time in her life the unbearable pleasure of physical domination.

But it was domination wrapped up in the safety of love—and oh, daddy, it was everything. It was the secret of life.

When he reached for her wrists and pinned them over her head, she screamed with surprise and pleasure.

Then he moved slightly higher on her belly and started a deeper and faster grind, and in a flash of wonder, Emma knew that there was even more acute physical joy to be had. And as all of his tough, solid weight gnashed directly against her and thrust deep inside her, she started to lose it again.

"Come for me, Emma."

Thomas let go of her wrists and reached under to grab her butt—he seemed to do that a lot—and plunged even deeper inside her. "I knew the minute I saw you. It's you, Emma. Damn, it's you."

In that instant, Emma surrendered her heart to him, along with her body, and the world caught fire.

He slammed into her so hard she nearly fell off the edge of the bed—the edge of consciousness—and she wrapped her legs around his hips in an act of self-preservation. Then she was coming again, gripped by the pulse, riding the wave, relentless, never-ending—and there was nothing but Thomas. Thomas in her, under her, on her, with her. And it was more than she'd ever dreamed.

He cried out her name in rhythm with each frenzied spasm of his climax, and once he'd emptied himself into her he collapsed, panting into the crook of her neck, nuzzling her, kissing her, murmuring unintelligible things in her ear.

Emma lay in awe, her legs still hooked around his narrow hips, dazed by the feel of his hot breath on her throat and his heartbeat slamming against her breasts. How she loved having him this close to her—closer than she'd ever felt to another human being in her life. How right this was.

"Emma…"

She brushed her fingers down his spine, and Thomas arched into her touch like a friendly domestic shorthair. He made a primitive noise into the side of her neck that sounded—and felt—just like a purr.

She couldn't stop smiling at the wonder of it all.

This man wasn't a moody robot—he was a battle-scarred tomcat who needed a loving home. And though she'd always been more of a dog person, she had a feeling that was about to change.

She had a feeling a lot of things were about to change. "How are you, baby?" Thomas's moist kisses below her ear made her tingle all over.

"I'm alive. I think."

He laughed, and the press of his cheek against her throat told her the dimples had returned. She wished she could see them. After a long moment, he pushed up and looked down on her, his face impossibly open, full of humor and warmth—the most endearing face she'd ever seen.

"Do you mind if I call you that—'baby,' I mean?"

She let loose with what she feared was a completely goofy grin. Nobody had ever called her that before.

It made her feel small, delicate, and so very feminine. It made her feel treasured.

"I like it, actually. Don't tell Velvet."

Thomas dropped his head and showered her with sweet kisses. "Thank you for making love with me, Emma."

He was thanking her? "Anytime, Rugby Boy."

"Oh, yeah?" He raised one hand to brush the hair from her forehead and let his fingers trace over the arch of her brow.

"Mmm…" Emma closed her eyes in pleasure.

"Am I squishing you?"

"No! You feel really good right where you are. Do you think you could stay awhile?"

His smile spread slow and he continued to stroke her cheek, her chin, her ear, her bottom lip. "I warned you I'd like to come inside you for years on end, but I'm afraid you're going to suffocate if I don't move."

He rolled onto his side, taking her with him, and she snuggled up against his solid body, lulled into sweet, warm peace with the beat of his heart, the stroke of his hand on her hair, the rhythm of his breathing.

Emma didn't know how long she slept, but she woke with something hard prodding her hip. She opened her eyes to find herself sprawled half on top of Thomas. He smiled down at her.

"Hey, Emma."

She laughed—the guy may be shooting blanks, but his trigger worked fine.

"Hey, big guy."

Thomas folded his arms around her and kissed her gently. "I wasn't exactly prepared for this—for you. I know I didn't do such a smooth job with all of it. Sometimes I just assume the worst, you know?" He kissed her chin, her throat. "But I won't hurt you again. I won't ever let anything hurt you."

Emma smiled against his neck. "Don't make promises, okay? Just hold me, Thomas. Make me forget everything but you."

"I can do that." He nuzzled under her jaw. "But you've got to let me make just one little promise to you."

"Thomas—"

In one movement, he pulled her up on top of him, spread her thighs and pushed inside her. After the initial surprise, Emma felt her body melt around him, pull him in. She wantonly wriggled on him, allowing herself to sink all the way down, skewered. His.

He put his big hands on her hips and lifted her, just a bit.

"I promise not to hurt you."

Then he brought her back down.

"I promise to take care of you."

Back up.

Emma fell forward, her hands on either side of his head, her breasts dangling in front of his mouth.

Back down.

He mouthed a nipple, then the next, tonguing, biting, rubbing his cheeks over them until they were once again raging red, swollen and hard.

Up.

"And I promise to ravage you until you can't take any more."

Down. Hard.

Emma shuddered, overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth and teeth on her, his flesh hard inside her, his words seducing her.

Up and down.

She didn't want to cry again, but she couldn't help it—it was simply too much, too wonderful.

Up and down. Faster. Harder. Rougher. She detonated, the heat searing through her, Thomas's quicksilver eyes burning right through to her soul.

When she caught her breath she said, "It really is you, isn't it?" Her voice broke as the tears stung her eyes. "You're the man who's going to sweep me off my feet."

Thomas stilled. He let the nipple pop from his mouth, and grinned up at her.

"Consider yourself swept, babe."