Emma Darcy: Having Leo's Child

Aching...yes...it felt as though every bone in her body was aching. She wasn’t sure they were going to hold together.

He grinned a wild, wicked grin. “You know this smile printed on the red heart logo of your T-shirt? If you extend the curve upwards on either side...” He drew it with his two index fingers. “See? It goes directly to the peaks of your breasts. Beautiful geometry. Beautiful breasts...”

He circled her aureoles with his fingers, arousing acute excitement. “They’re so perky and lush,” he said huskily, his gaze dropping as he pulled her T-shirt from the waistband of her skirt and lifted it up...up...untangling her arms from his neck, tossing the garment aside, unfastening her bra, sliding the straps away. Then his hands were cupping her, his thumbs fanning her erect nipples and she could hardly breathe, so sharp was the pleasure of it.

The urge to touch him as he was touching her compelled her own hands to the buttons on his shirt, fingers travelling rapidly, parting the fabric, and his skin was as smooth as satin, hairless, tightly stretched over strongly delineated muscles. He felt wonderful, almost as though his skin was polished and her hands skimmed over him with sensual delight, amazed that a man could feel like this.

Wayne hadn’t. But she instantly banished the memory of her ex-husband, long gone. There was no comparison to Leo. How could there be? This man was perfection.

In sheer fascination with him she rolled her thumbs over his nipples. He inhaled sharply, his chest expanding, seeming to pulse at the teasing touch, and a thrill of power zinged through Teri. The sure knowledge that she could and did affect him in the same way he affected her was intoxicating.

“Yessss,” he hissed. “More...”

She slid the shirt from his shoulders and they were perfect, too, broad and strong and manly without being overly musclebound. While her hands revelled in gliding over the hard male curves of his upper arms, Leo freed himself of the constricting sleeves and hauled her close again, rubbing his bare chest against the soft mounds of her breasts, sensitising them further as he unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt.

It was so incredibly erotic...her flesh against his. She couldn’t wait to feel the rest of him. Neither could he, scooping the rest of her clothes down, tearing his jeans apart, stepping out of them, shoes flicked off. Then there was nothing between them and they were free to embrace the totality of each other, skin against skin, exploring the differences with gloriously sensual and uninhibited fervor.

“You truly are...all woman,” Leo said in a kind of awe that made Teri feel really special.

Though he was more so...everything she’d imagined he would be...complete and utter male power, sleek and strong and sure in his aggression, wanting her, revelling in her femininity, every taste and touch comprising a constant drive for more and more satisfaction in knowing her, all of her, and Teri could feel herself dissolving inside, like ice-cream subjected to heat, a thick flow of melting ice-cream, and he laid her on the bed and licked her as though he knew it and loved it and couldn’t get enough of it, right down to every possible delicious drop.

Her mouth, her breasts, her stomach, and lower, parting her legs, moving to the most intimate folds of her and she was utterly helpless, her whole body focused on what he was doing to her, enthralled by the exquisite excitement of it...Wayne had never...but Leo...dear heaven! She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pulsing ecstasy he was stoking with irresistible power.

And then his hand was touching her, too, cupping her, his thumb reaching into her, caressing, causing her to convulse with incredible pleasure, then sliding out to give way to his mouth...his mouth!...and she writhed to the terrible, wonderful madness of it, out of control, caught in the grip of sensations that simply rolled over any caring of what was done or how it was done as long as it kept going.

She cried out when it stopped, the need for continuance screaming through her. Her eyes flew open in urgent pleading. Her arms were limp, heavy, but she lifted them, compelled to hold, to urge more from him. But he was already coming to her, his knees between her legs, and he was hastily sheathing himself with protection.

Shock momentarily slammed through her mind. She hadn’t thought...no matter...he had. It was all right. And seeing him readying himself for her, the brief cautionary cloud was instantly dispersed with a ringing chant of yes...yes...yes...all of him inside her...now, fast, hard, full-on, pounding as wildly as her heart.

He slid an arm underneath her, lifting, and her body instinctively arched to meet and welcome him, craving fulfilment of the promise, quivering with anticipation. She felt him slide into place, felt herself opening for him, wider and wider to accommodate his wonderfully solid fullness and she almost died of sheer delight as he pushed forward to the inner centre of her being.

If he’d stopped then, Teri would have been content, swimming in a sea of ecstasy. As it was, he paused long enough to gather her up and kiss her, heightening the sense of mutual possession, of melding with each other, arousing levels of awareness that exulted in the unifying force of this intense, physical mingling.

Stirred by the flow of his strength, Teri wound her arms and legs around him and he took her with him on a tumultuous ride that broke every barrier of experience she’d known until now. She was swamped with roll after roll of exquisitely sweet sensation as he immersed her in the beat of his mating, the powerful pacing of it pounding through her, consuming every bit of sexual knowledge from her marriage and imprinting a new encyclopaedia of sensory perceptions, all of them measuring far beyond the realities she’d accepted before this.

Not that Teri was actively recording anything. It was simply happening to her. Leo was making it happen... Leo Kingston...and never in a million years was she going to forget how it was with him. And even when he climaxed he didn’t let her go, didn’t let the pulse of excitement seep away. He cuddled her, stroked her, kissed her, murmured what he wanted from her, guiding, and she abandoned herself to following his lead, revelling in his encouragement, his fierce responses, the supreme sensuality he drew from her.

How many times they coupled, how many ways... Teri had no idea. Leo seemed to know endless paths of pleasure though no matter how aroused he was, there was always care for unwelcome consequences, always another sheath of protection against their wild excesses, allowing absolute freedom to indulge themselves wherever desire took them.

There was no ultimate time of satiation, though eventually exhaustion did drug them into languorous periods of sleep from which they stirred when the entanglement of their bodies inadvertently caused movement and another awakening. The hunger for what they gave each other never abated. Even when dawn came they found a new fascination in making love in the softly faltered light, seeing, watching, gloating over their visual discoveries.

Leo’s vivid blue eyes caressed her with warm pleasure as he trailed his fingertips around her breasts in deliciously teasing circles. He was hitched onto his side, one hand propping up his head, and his face wore a relaxed, happy expression. Such a handsome face, Teri thought, though it was really more than handsome.

His black eyebrows had a wicked arch to them, making his eyes a riveting feature. His nose was strong and straight, with a slight flare to his nostrils that drew attention to a mouth any woman would envy, lips that were sharply defined, sensually curved, and perfectly balanced. These attractions were heightened by an innate stamp of authority, an aura of self-confidence that said his thirty-something years had not been wasted. This was a man who went after what he wanted and got it.