Stanislaskis - 03 - Falling for Rachel by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

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He ripped her blouse. It wasn't only passion that made him grab and tear. He

couldn't bear to see her wear it another moment, to see that vivid blue stained

with spots of blood.

Yet the sound of it, of the silk rending beneath his fingers, and her gasp of

shocked excitement, spread fire through his gut.

"The first time I saw you…" His breath was already short and fast when he tossed

the mangled blouse aside. "From the first minute, I wanted this. Wanted you."

"I know." She reached for him, amazed at how deep and ripe a need could be. "Me,

too. It's crazy," she said against his mouth. "Insane." Her skin trembled as he

tugged the straps of her chemise from her shoulders to replace them with

impatient lips. "Incredible."

Glorying in it, she arched against him when he took her breasts in those greedy,

rough-palmed hands. Then his mouth—oh, his mouth, hot and seeking—closed over

her to tug and suckle. Hurry, was all she could think, hurry, hurry, and her

nails scraped heedlessly up his sides as she dragged his sweater over his head.

Flesh to flesh was what she wanted. Skin already hot, already damp. The feel of

his lips against her thundering heart had her locking her fists in his hair,

pressing him closer. She fretted for more. Even as the storm built to a crisis

point inside her, she met, she ached, and she demanded.

Her fingers dug into his broad shoulders when he slid down, setting off hundreds

of tiny eruptions by streaking hungry, openmouthed kisses down her torso. Then

back, quickly back, to drown her in desire with his lips on hers. He couldn't

stop himself from taking. No matter that he had once imagined making slow,

tortuously slow, love to her on some huge, soft bed. The desperation of what was

overpowered any fantasy of what might have been.

She possessed him. Obsessed him. No mystical siren could have stolen his mind

and soul more completely.

A button popped from her skirt as he fought to drag it down her hips. He thought

he might go mad if he didn't rip aside all obstacles, if he didn't see her. All

of her.

Half-crazed, he peeled off her stockings, and the delicate lace that had secured

them. Somewhere through the roaring in his brain he heard her throaty cry when

his fingers brushed against her thigh. Fighting to hold back, he knelt between

her legs, filling himself with the sight of her, slim and golden and naked, her

hair tousled around her face, her eyes dark and heavy.

She reared up, too desperate to wait even another moment. Her mouth closed

avidly over his, and her fingers tore at the snap of his jeans.

"Let me," she said in a husky whisper. "No." He slipped a hand behind her back

to support her, and brought the other down to cover the source of heat. "Let

me."

The volcano he'd imagined erupted at the first touch. Her body shuddered,

quaked. And he watched, impossibly aroused, as her head fell back. Not

surrender. Even in his own delirium, he understood that she was not

surrendering. It was abandonment, the pure, unleashed quest for pleasure.

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