Page 48 of Landry
"Landry-" She moved restlessly, clamping a hand around his wrist.
"Would you like that?" His voice was harsh, his face taut.
"Yes. Please."
"Not yet. I want to see you tremble with need for me. I want you to scream my name. I need to know that you want me half as much as I want you. I need that."
"I do."
"Not yet. But you will," he promised.
Chapter 13
He was relentless. It was as if he was trying to prove a point. He used his hands first, stripping not only her clothing, but every bit of resistance. His clever fingers kneaded flesh, lingered over her nipples, and had her vibrating. His eyes burned with a passion that struck something deep inside her. And he was taking his time. Slowly, thoroughly, he was driving her insane.
The need inside him was so keen that he felt it cutting a path through his very soul, but still he continued. He wanted to brand her, to make her forget that he had hurt her so horribly. He wanted to forget that he had been the one to hurt her. He wanted to make it up to her and put his seed inside her.
When she was a quivering mass of pure and desperate desire, only then did he stumble to his feet. The restriction of his clothing made him impatient, and he realized his fingers were all thumbs.
Dragging at buttons, he sent them flying. The shirt was ruined, but he did not care. He finally got rid of the rest of the clothing.
Through the enormous fog of desire covering her brain, she somehow managed to open her eyes to take in his male beauty. His skin was golden, the muscles well defined. Sweat still sheened his chest and the rigid planes of his stomach. Kady felt her mouth watering. As soon as he eased into bed next to her, she reached for him.
She wanted to feel him, to have his body on hers. Turning her to face him, he cupped her face, fingers gentle. "I love you." His voice was like rough velvet, thickened with the emotions coursing through his vulnerable body. "Even when I was forced to leave, I loved you."
He lowered his mouth to taste hers. He needed the contact. The past fell away swiftly, and right now, nothing else mattered.
Just the two of them. Nothing and no one would ever touch her; he would make certain of it.
When she responded to the kiss, he deepened it, his tongue making its slow exploration of her mouth. She tasted of everything good and sweet. He wanted to ravish her, to swallow her whole. He'd hoped fervently in the past to recapture what they had shared as teenagers, and nothing had even come close.
Nothing ever would.
Changing the angle of the kiss, he covered her body with his. He could feast on her sweet mouth forever. Wanting her was boring a hole inside him. When she lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, he was lost. The idea of seducing her until she was mindless with desire was not going to come to fruition.
He was already mindless; he was burning up with passion for her. The groan was torn from his throat, and with his body shuddering, he plunged into her. Swallowing her gasp, he delicately circled his hips, wanting to give them time, wanting the sensations, the incredible feeling of being inside her to last.
Lifting his lips from hers, he fisted his hands into the thick strands of her hair, his eyes trained on hers. Everything he was feeling was revealed. There was no shame here, no need to hide what was going on inside him.
He wanted her to know his heart. He wanted to reassure her that it belonged to her and only her.
"Landry." Her voice was thin and shaky. She saw it, saw everything, and it was overwhelming.
"I'm yours," he told her roughly.
"I know." Her fingers found the fringes of hair at the nape of his neck and clung. "Landry." His name was like a prayer on her lips.
He responded by taking her mouth in a kiss that had her trembling. Soft, sweet, poignant. Tears burned the back of her eyes and burned her throat. This was love. How could she have imagined she could ever survive with anything less?
The release came, long and soft, tumbling through her like a mild rushing wind. It left her breathless and dizzy. His own release came right after hers. Holding her to him, he flooded her with his seed, his long, lean body shuddering. Afterwards, he held her to him in silence. There was nothing to say at the moment; words were too insignificant. Easing to the side, he made sure not to break the intimate contact, wanting, no, needing to feel her against him.
***
The wine was excellent, the Cabernet a blend his choosy palate appreciated. Taking another sip, he carefully opened the snowy white napkin and placed it precisely inside the collar of his immaculately tailored shirt, before picking up the utensils to begin his meal.
He had prepared the fish himself and knew before he even had a bite that it would be savory. Something new he had tried. Olive oil with a creamy dressing he had come up with.
He loved to cook; it relaxed him. Along with the meal, he was listening to Bach, the melody flowing over him like a gentle river. He was a man who loved the finer things in life, ones that had been denied him for many years, because he had been running and hiding.
