Eden's Spell Read Online Free Page B

gasped softly, clinging to his shoulders, and he grinned, the fire inside him growing in heat and wonder with each sweet moan that escaped her throat, telling him of her own need. Her breasts, dear God, how long had it been since he had touched her breasts? He held them, loved them with his hands. Touched one nipple first with a flick of his tongue, suckled the other, tugging at it, savoring the feel and texture in his mouth.
    â€œOhhhh!” Her teeth, small, delicate, dug tenderly into his shoulders. Her nails skated over his back, raked his buttocks. Each touch brought his heartbeat quicker, the pulse inside him stronger. The need, the hunger, was dizzying. Erotic, wonderful. Stronger than anything he had known in his life. He wanted to lay her out flat and drive into her, to be shielded in her giving warmth, to have all of her with all of him.
    â€œOh, please …” she gasped out.
    He fell to his knees, and the tip of his tongue laved her navel with moist passion. She shook and trembled, and begged him to come to her again. He stroked her thighs and touched them with the heat of his kiss. He slipped his hand between them, enjoying the satin texture of her flesh, questing the heart of her passion, thrilling to the soft cries and moans that shook her. He gripped her hips, holding her still to his hunger and her own, and caressed her with the intimate, intimate heat of his tongue until she gasped out a strangled cry, stiffened and arced like a pagan goddess, and like that goddess, released sweet nectars of love.
    He caught her before she could fall and held her in his arms, finding her lips again. She tried to speak around his kisses; she caressed him and touched him. The pink clouds offered them a bed, and he laid her there, coming to her. And again she touched him, exactly where he craved to be touched, her fingers gentle and fervent, her kiss enveloping him, bringing the life and breath of him to thunder….
    Then he forced her on her back and rose above her. He wedged his knees between hers; her thighs wound around him in a silken embrace, as welcoming as the velvet embrace of her body, as the cry that escaped her in another startled gasp, as her promise to love and need him forever….
    At that moment he knew that he was flesh and blood, that he was a man loving a woman, that his body strained and dampened and soared at a frantic, pulsing beat. Yet the pink clouds were all around him, adding magic.
    She, too, was real. Real and beautiful, seductive and sinuous, impassioned and so wonderfully sensuous. She was a part of him, so feminine, so fine, hips fluidly rotating, arching, again and again….
    The pleasure, the climax, was an explosion of his being, so good that it hurt, touching the world with a streak of golden light that shattered the clouds. He was drenched; he was sated. He held her, pressing her to him, speaking breathless, soothing whispers as they drifted slowly down from the pinnacle in another silken cloud of fulfillment. He felt that he was with her still, inside of her, a part of her. And indeed, he knew that he had filled her. With himself, with all of himself.
    He stroked her hair. He whispered. She whispered. He vaguely mused that her hair had grown quite long while they had been parted.
    It wasn’t until hours later—hours, or moments?—that he awoke again. Awoke with a painfully lucid mind and perfect reason.
    Reason that clearly and dismayingly told him that the hair tangled around his shoulders wasn’t just long—it was deep, dark red.
    And it belonged to Katrina Denver. Just like the face that nestled against his chest, and the long, slim, naked leg that was cast over his own muscled, hairy, naked thigh.

CHAPTER TWO
    O H, HELL.
    Oh, hell.
    If this damn situation wasn’t going from ridiculously bad to worse.
    Mike closed his eyes and cast his wrist over his forehead, praying that he could awake all over again and discover that the petite redhead was a