Eyes of Fire by Heather Graham Pozzessere

Author:Heather Graham Pozzessere [Pozzessere, Heather Graham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781551660899
Google: UpVa7e6VZ_0C
Barnesnoble:
Published: 1995-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

10

T here was absolutely no question of thinking about what she was doing.

Maybe she had already done all the thinking.

And maybe all the thinking and logic in the world didn’t mean anything now.

Adam had returned to her life just the way he had come the first time, becoming the very center of it simply by being there. Adam was here, and she wanted him. Just as she had before. And his touch…

Just as she had wanted it before.

She was barely aware of being carried from the shower to her bedroom. Peripheral perceptions of tile, then carpet, as he moved, and nothing more. They were both still wet when he came down beside her on her bed, the room in shadow because the sun was starting its crimson fall into the west, and she’d left the drapes half closed, as well. There were a few streaks of light filtering in, rays upon which dust motes danced in a slow, magical swirl.

Her hair was soaked, splayed across the pillow. She would have been cold if not for the inferno of heat that seemed to exist between the two of them. She shivered at first, waiting for that heat to radiate through her limbs.

She was still seeing the fused silver of his eyes, so intent upon her own, when he moved against her, the dampness of his body covering her, the pressure of his lips against her throat. The fullness of his body covered hers; the stroking of his hands warmed her.

The focus of his mouth shifted from her pulse to her right breast. Caressing, tugging, rubbing. His knee intruded between her thighs. His hand followed suit. Fingers stroked, caressed, probed.

She shivered no more.

Her fingers bit into his shoulders; her body burst into heat. She shifted, trying to avoid the exquisite pleasure of his touch, then shifted again, eager for more of it. Climbing, rising, feeling the hot spiral that burned at the center of her sex, feeding her limbs, being fed in turn. She closed her eyes as thought momentarily intruded.

No, no, no…

Yes, yes, oh, God, yes…

His lips fed on her left breast. His free hand plunged into her hair, and then his mouth was covering hers, tongue invading so hotly, completely, wetly. In, out, around, decadently, like the motion between her thighs. Cries rose within her throat; she could bear no more, yet she was desperate for more.

Suddenly he drew away, staring at her as he ran his palms down her thighs, then lower. She met his gaze and tried to reach out, to caress him, to hold him intimately, to torment as he had done. To arouse him.

He pressed her back.

Rose over her.

Came into her….

Absorbing the pleasure of him, she briefly remembered words Yancy had said to her once, Yancy spilling out her own desperate emotions, laughter, love, pain….

Sometimes men wanted to be touched.

Sometimes they wanted to get right to it.

Oh, God.

He was getting right to it.

Her arms encircled him; her limbs embraced him. She clung to him, fingers digging, releasing, digging once more, as her breath was swept away again and again.

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