Read The Harder They Fall Online

Authors: Trish Jensen

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Restaurateurs, #Businesswomen

The Harder They Fall (19 page)

“Okay.”

“Is that enough light?”

“Yes.”

Michael dropped the lighter back into the drawer, then pulled out his wallet and laid the two condom packages beside her alarm clock.

He kicked off his shoes while he unbuttoned his shirt. “Inch the sheet down your body, Darcy. I want to see you.”

She hesitated.

“I’ve touched you. I know the shape of you. Believe me, I approve. Let me see you, Darcy.” He shrugged out of his shirt. “There. Here’s my chest. Let me see yours.”

She inched the sheet down to her waist. Michael sucked in his breath. “My God!”

The sheet zoomed back up to her chin.

“Don’t! God, Darcy, you’re beautiful.”

While he unbuckled his belt, he watched her inch the sheet lower again. Her breasts were a dream, a fantasy. He kicked off his khakis, then removed his socks. Straightening, he dropped his fists onto his hips and just stood, letting her rake her gaze over him. “Darcy, it’s a fact of life that a man can’t fake his reaction to a woman. Look at me. Do I look like a man who doesn’t appreciate the sight of your body?”

She boldly appraised him before shaking her head.

Leaving his underwear on—he didn’t want to completely unnerve her—he slid into bed with her. Pulling her underneath him, he straddled her, gazing into her eyes. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” she whispered.

“With me.”

“With you.”

He kissed her, trying to concentrate on his ultimate goal—her pleasure—and to ignore the need pulsing in him.

He suckled his way down her throat, pressing a kiss at its pounding base. “Don’t forget, you have to tell me what you like.”

“I like that.”

“What?”

“Your lips on my skin.”

He lowered his chest until their nipples met. Then he brushed back and forth until hers peaked.

Darcy gasped. “I . . . like that.”

Michael smiled into her neck. Then he kissed his way down over her collarbone to her chest, and took her nipple in his mouth.

“Michael!” she said, jolting a little. “Oh, my!”

Michael cherished each breast in turn until Darcy was moving restlessly under him, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pressed him closer to her. He lost count how many times she breathed, “I like that,” but each time he heard her say it, his desire peaked to a new level, until he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in the world.

Cherishing Darcy was like cherishing life. Touching her, tasting her, licking her, was like reaching for the moon. Making her cry out her release would feel like conquering the universe.

While his thumbs continued brushing over her nipples, Michael moved lower. He nibbled on a hipbone, then licked the hollow. His teeth scraped lightly up her waist, then his tongue trailed down her center before jabbing lightly into her belly button.

“Oh, God, that’s . . . good!”

Michael moved his knees between her thighs and nudged her legs apart. His hand whispered down her waist to her hipbone. “Open for me. Give it all to me, Darcy.”

Her tense legs relaxed and she spread her thighs, gazing at him with such trust, he wanted to cry. He threaded his fingers through her soft mound. “Let yourself feel it, enjoy it. That’s what this is all about, Darcy. Letting yourself go.”

His thumb slowly circled lower until he found the center of her femininity. Darcy gasped and her legs started jerking.

But Michael didn’t stop. “Picture yourself in a pool, the water sliding softly over your body, into your body, caressing you.”

She was wet. Hot and wet. Hot and wet and ready to come. Michael slid his finger inside of her, stimulating her from without and within.

“That’s wonderful,” she gasped, her eyes closed, head thrown back. “Please, Michael!”

Her knees came up, clutching his hips. “Don’t stop! Please, I don’t want you to stop!”

Michael had no intention of stopping. Watching Darcy like this aroused him more than anything he’d ever witnessed in his life. The sense of rightness, of desire licking through him, was the most powerful thing he’d ever felt.

She began shaking uncontrollably, her hands clutching and unclutching the bed sheet. Her head rolled from side to side, and she started chanting his name. Her hips pressed upward, silently begging for more. Michael gave it to her, knowing that at this moment he’d give her his life if she asked for it.

When he felt the first contractions of her muscles, he slid in and out of her faster, over her harder. When she screamed her climax, Michael almost came with her.

He drew it out, forcing her to experience every lurch of release, every wave of pleasure. When she finally sank back into the bed, when her legs went boneless, when her eyes opened and she stared at him in wonder, Michael slowed, then stopped. He leaned over her again, smiling down into her glistening eyes.

“Michael!” she breathed.

“Darcy!” he whispered back.

“That was . . . that was—”

“Did you like that?”

“Oh, yes!” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Michael! Show me how to do that to you.”

He kissed her softly. “Not this time.”

“But—”

“Darcy, all I want is to be inside of you. Me. My body.”

“Yes, please.”

He rolled to her side. “Take off my underwear, Darcy.”

She complied with an eagerness that made his lust for her expand to record highs. She stared at him with unabashed curiosity. Michael leaned over her and grabbed a condom. Her hand circled his hard, needy shaft.

He sucked in a breath. “Easy, sweetheart,” he groaned. “I’m just ready enough that if you touch me, I’ll be spilling before I get near you.”

“It’s smooth.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, gritting his teeth. He hadn’t counted on Darcy’s need to explore new territory.

“And big. And hard.”

Michael would bet it was harder than it had ever been in his life. Bigger, too. He gently disengaged her hand and rolled the condom into place. Then he took both her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. The other hand caressed her breast. “I want you so much,” he whispered against her lips. “So damn much, Darcy.”

“Take me.”

His hand slid down her taut belly to her mound, and he started a slow, seductive arousal again. He wanted her as ready as him.

It didn’t take long for him to get her writhing under his seduction. When he was near to exploding, he covered her body, spreading her legs. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “I’m going to make love to you. If it hurts, I’m sorry. Just this once, all right?”

“Yes.”

He kept his gaze locked with hers while he started to enter her. She was so slick and hot, her body accepting his invasion with surprising ease.

Her eyes went wide.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

She did.

If there was still a barrier, Michael never felt it. But he knew the moment it began to hurt her, and he withdrew slowly. For an eternity, he merely entered a few inches and withdrew, letting her get used to the rhythm, the feeling of being possessed by a man. He kissed her, swallowing her occasional moan—of pleasure or pain, he wasn’t certain.

Then Darcy did something that nearly shattered him. She clutched his hips with her legs, shifted a little, and thrust upward, burying him farther inside her.

Michael went still, trying to read her expression. Her eyes sparkled like gems in the soft candles’ glow. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, not anymore. Please, Michael!”

That plea sounded as old as Eve’s, and Michael lost all control. He put his hands under her shoulder blades and crushed her to him while he possessed her, over and over, plunging deep then withdrawing, again and again, until he was mindless.

Darcy’s muscles contracted around him at the same time she cried out. The joy of knowing that she’d experienced climax this way shot through him. He went over the edge, fast and hard. Pleasure burst through him, bathing him.

He hoarsely whispered his elation against her neck as he spilled and spilled and spilled out ecstasy.

He collapsed on her, his breaths rasping and harsh, his muscles turning fluid and useless. He’d never felt so utterly spent in his life.

And he’d never so desperately anticipated making love with a woman again.

When he finally found the energy to move, he withdrew from her and rolled onto his side, so filled with awe, he had no words to say. He pulled her into his arms, never wanting to let her go. If the force of a man’s response to making love with a woman was any barometer, he was more than just physically attracted to Darcy Welham.

How much more, he refused to guess.

“I like sex,” Darcy whispered in his ear.

He lifted his head and stared down at her. “I like sex, too. Especially with you.”

“Really?”

He touched her cheek. “Darcy, what just happened to me has never happened to me before. That’s the honest truth.”

Her smile was beatific, angelic, and God help him, seductive all at once. He was lost. Completely lost.

“I’m glad,” she said softly, threading her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Really glad.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You, too.”

“I never want this night to end.”

“Same here. When do we get to do that again?”

Michael collapsed on his back. “I think I’ve just created a monster.”

She giggled, then rolled to her side, draping her arm over his abdomen. “I have this gut instinct that tells me I still have a lot to learn. And you, Mr. Davidson, are going to teach me.”

He groaned. “Did I ever tell you you’re too smart for your own good?”

She kissed him. “It’s my downfall.”

“Darcy?”

“Hmm?” she said, exploring his ribs.

“I’ve changed my mind about something.”

“What’s that?”

“From now on, whenever you need to calm yourself down, I want you to picture the two of us making love. Because that was the most fantastic thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh, Michael!” she cried, hugging him. “Thank you!”

“Darcy?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want this to end.”

“Me either.”

“Ever.”

“Davidson! Telephone,”
Tom Murphy boomed the next afternoon, striding into the kitchen where Michael was helping Darcy set up the salad bar. “Line one.”

Michael sighed. He winked at Darcy. “Duty calls,” he murmured, then brushed by her, letting his hand slide over her hip surreptitiously.

Other books

Rust On the Razor by Mark Richard Zubro
Death in a Cold Climate by Robert Barnard
Exercises in Style by Queneau, Raymond
The Devil Made Me Do It by Colette R. Harrell
A Gentleman Never Tells by Juliana Gray
The Solid Mandala by Patrick White
Zadayi Red by Caleb Fox
Morgan's Passing by Anne Tyler