The Twilight Before Christmas (22 page)

“I’m supposed to say that to you.” He stretched out beside her, gathered her into his arms to hold her to him. “I want to lie here with you for a very long time.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, fitting her body more closely to his. “I wouldn’t mind staying here for the rest of the winter, locked away in our own private world.” She stretched languidly, pleased to be able to relax. To have him holding her with such gentleness.

Matt knew she was tired, and it was enough to hold her in his arms, even with his body raging at him and her body so soft and inviting and open to his. His mouth drifted down the side of her neck. She snuggled closer, turning her head toward the Christmas tree, giving him even better access.

“I love the way you smell,” he said. Because he couldn’t resist, he slid his palm over her skin. He’d never felt anything so soft. He traced her ribs, a gentle exploration, not in the least demanding, simply wanting to touch her. Her soft belly called to him, a mystery for a breast man, but he loved the way she reacted each time he caressed her there.

Kate smiled. “I love the feel of your hands.”

“I’ve always hated my hands. Workingman hands, rough and big and meant for manual labor.”

“Meant to bring pleasure to a woman, you mean,” she contradicted, and caught his hand to bring it to her lips. She kissed the pads of his fingers, nibbled on the tips, and drew one into her mouth.

He caught his breath, aching with love, burning up with need. “Everything about you is so damned feminine, Kate. Sometimes I’m afraid if I touch you, I’m going to break you.” He measured her wrist loosely by circling it with his thumb and index finger.

She laughed and rubbed her body against his affectionately, almost like a contented cat. “I doubt you have to worry about breaking me. This thing with the fog is draining, but I recover quickly.” She frowned, even as she ran her fingertips along the hard column of his thigh. “I am a little worried about Hannah though, and now Elle.”

He was very much aware of her fingers so close to his throbbing erection. She was tapping out a little rhythm on his upper thigh. His stomach constricted, and his blood thickened. The lights on the Christmas tree blinked on and off in harmony with the drumming of her fingers. Every tap brought a surge of heat through his body. “The doctors said Elle was going to be fine. She’ll have a whale of a headache, though, and Jackson was right about her ribs and arm, but she’ll heal fast with Libby around.”

Matt cupped her breast in his hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples into taut pebbles. He felt her response, the swift intake of breath. The flush that covered her body. “It seems such a miracle to me to be able to touch you like this. I wonder if every other man knows what a miracle a woman’s body is.”

“And all this time, I thought the miracle was a man’s body.” Kate ran her fingernails lightly along his belly.

“Maybe the miracle is just that I finally managed to stop you from hiding from me,” Matt decided. He bent his head, flickered her nipple with his tongue, made a lazy foray around the areola. She moved slightly, turning to give him better access.

“I’ve been thinking about the fog. Something isn’t quite right.”

“Quite right?” He lifted his head to look at her, arching his eyebrow. The Christmas lights were playing red and green and blue over her stomach. A bright red light glowed across the small triangle of curls at the junction of her legs. It was distracting and made it hard to concentrate on conversation. He slipped his hand in the middle of the flashing light, watched his fingers stroke the nest of curls, felt Kate shiver, and pushed his fingers deep into her warm wet sheath. She pushed back against him, a soft moan escaping. He dipped his head to find her breast, suckling strongly. “What are you thinking, Kate?” His tongue swirled over her nipple, and he pushed deeper inside her until her hips began a helpless ride.

“He isn’t going after Hannah. Why attack me? Or Elle? Or even Abbey? He should go after Hannah. She summons the wind to drive him out to sea. She stops him.” Her words came in little short bursts. She gasped as she pushed against his hand, as her body tightened with alarming pressure, with the pure magic of passion shared with Matthew.

“Take the pins out of your hair,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I love your hair down. You look very sexy with your hair down.”

“You think I look sexy no matter what,” she pointed out.

His teeth teased her nipple, nibbled over her breast. “True, but I love the hair.”

“You won’t love it when it’s falling all over you.” But she was lifting her arms, pulling out pins and scattering them in every direction while he shifted her, lowering his body into the cradle of her hips, thrusting deep inside her.

She cried out when he surged forward. Whips of lightning danced through her blood. “Matthew.” There was a plea for mercy, and he hadn’t even gotten started.

“We have all the time in the world, Katie,” he whispered, his lips sliding over her throat, her chin, and up to her mouth. His strong hips paused, waiting. She held her breath. He thrust hard, a long stroke surging deep to bury himself completely within her. A coming home. She was velvet soft and tight and fiery hot. He wanted a long slow night with her. His hands shaped her body, stroking and caressing every inch of her.

“I don’t feel like we have all the time in the world.” She protested, breathless, arching her hips to meet the impact of his. “I feel like I’m going to go up in flames.”

“Then do it,” he encouraged. “Come for me a hundred times. Over and over. Scream for me, Kate. I love you so much. I love watching you come for me. And I love your body, every square inch of it. I want to spend the night worshiping you.”

Kate wanted the same thing. She did scream, clutching at the bedcovers for an anchor as her body fragmented, and she went spinning off into space. She couldn’t tell if the whirling colors were behind her eyes or from the Christmas tree lights. She found it didn’t matter when he caught her hips firmly, held her still, and began surging into her once more with his slow, deep strokes.

Chapter
11

In the stocking hung with gentle care,

A mystery, I know, is hidden there.

Matt woke already aroused. He was thick and aching, so tight he thought he’d burst through his own skin. The blankets had fallen onto the floor as if he had spent a long, restless night. His body was stark naked and mercilessly aroused. He looked down at Kate. She smiled up at him, her sea-green eyes sultry, her hands moving gently over his flat stomach. Her long hair spilled over his hips and thighs, teasing every nerve ending. He knotted a long strand around his fist. “I dreamed of you, Kate.”

Her smile was that of a temptress. “I hope it was a good dream.” She bent her head to her task, lovingly stroking her tongue over the thick inviting length of him, sliding the velvet knob into the heated tightness of her mouth.

Matt gasped as the pleasure/pain of it rocked him. “How could it not be?” he asked when he got his breath back. Her tongue made a teasing foray along the rigid length and stroked over him before she once again slid her mouth around him.

He closed his eyes, his hips surging forward, wanting more, needing more, as waves of heat spread through his body, as every muscle clenched and tightened. Kate’s fist wrapped him up while her mouth performed miracles. “I don’t know if I’ll survive this, Kate.”

Her answer was muffled, her breath warm and enticing, her mouth hot and tight. He was certain he felt her laughter vibrate through his entire body. There was joy in Kate. That was her secret, he decided. Joy in everything she did with him. She didn’t pretend not to enjoy his body, she reveled in exploring him, teasing him, driving him to the very edge of his control.

Kate kissed her way up his belly and over his chest. She mounted him, the way an accomplished horseback rider smoothly slides aboard a horse, settling her body over his with exquisite slowness. She put up her hands and he took them so she could use leverage as her body rose and fell, stroking his. Her hair spilled around her, adding to her allure as her full breasts bounced and beckoned with every movement. She threw her head back, arched back, moving differently, tightening muscles until he was certain he would explode.

“Kate.” Her name was a husky, almost hoarse sound, escaping from his constricted throat. His lungs burned. A fire spread through his belly, centered in his groin, and gathered into a wild conflagration. He couldn’t take his gaze from her. There was a sheen to her skin, a flush over her body. She moved with a woman’s sensuous grace and mystery. “The feel of your hair on my legs and belly makes me crazy.” It should have tickled his skin, but the silky fall brushed over sensitive nerve endings and added to the heat and fire building in the deep within him. He felt as if every part of his body was being pulled in that direction.

Kate moved with exquisite slowness, undulating her body, sending him right out of his mind. The erotic visual only increased his raging hunger for her. In the soft morning sunlight, her hair flashed red streaks, and her pale skin seemed made of dewy petals. Most of all, the expression on her face, deeply absorbed in the ride of lust and love and passion, shook his entire being. He could read the way her body began to build pressure, her muscles clenching tightly, gripping him strongly. He could see it on her face, the rapture, the passion, the intensity of the orgasm as it overtook her. He watched her ride it out, watched the excitement and pleasure on her face, in her body. Seeing her like that heightened his own pleasure, and he wanted more, wanted her flushed body to feel it again and again and bring his body to his own explosive orgasm.

He caught her hips in his hands, taking control, guiding her ride, thrusting upward hard as she slid down over him, encasing him in a fist of hot velvet. He shuddered with pleasure, feeling the pressure building relentlessly. He could feel her body preparing for a second shock, the muscles tightening around him, adding to the intensity of his explosion. It shook him, a volcano going off, detonating from the inside out, taking everything in its path. He caught her to him, fighting for air, fighting to regain some sense of where he was, of a time and place, not fantasyland, where his every dream came true. It seemed impossible to be lying on his living room floor, his heart raging at him, his body in ecstasy, and the love of his life in his arms. His world had been guns and sand and jungles and an enemy fighting to kill him. Women like Kate were not real and they didn’t wind their arms around his neck and rain kisses all over his face and tell him he was too sexy to be alive.

They lay together just holding one another, trying to get their heart rates back to normal and to push air through their lungs. Kate lay stretched out on top of Matt, pressing her soft body tightly against his. Beneath her, he suddenly stiffened.

“What the hell is that?” he growled, hearing a noise outside the house.

Kate gasped and rolled off of him, landing on the pile of blankets. “We have company, Matthew,” she whispered, gathering the sheets around her.

He sat up abruptly, his breath hissing through his teeth. He’d asked for a night with Kate, he should have asked for the entire damned week. He was never going to get enough of her, never be sated. “I thought I’d at least get you for a few more hours,” he groused as he padded naked across the floor. He suddenly halted halfway to the door and uttered a string of curses. “It’s my parents.”