Kate Little - The Determined Groom

She still had that smile. She was still the same, exactly, as she’d been—yet, now, so much more. He swallowed hard, and looked up at the house. The yellow squares of light in each window had all gone black. The caterer and cleanup crew were gone for the night. Everyone in the mansion had gone to bed.

Laurel would be here soon.

He could barely wait to feel her in his arms. To hold her and kiss her. To press his face into her soft hair and tell her how beautiful she was. How he’d never let her go now that he’d found her again.

He stood up, rubbing his hands together, searching the ragged line of trees and brush for some sign of her. He checked his watch. Barely ten minutes had passed. It felt like ten hours.

He stared out at the water again, his hands on his hips. The sound and motion of the surf was a soothing distraction, calming him a bit.

Finally, he heard her soft footsteps on the sand behind him. He spun around just as she stood about an arm’s length away. Still dressed in her glamorous gown, she’d removed all her jewelry—including her engagement ring, he noticed—and her shoes. She’d also removed the dressy clip that had held back the side of her hair, and her wavy golden mane was now blown back from her face by the breeze off the ocean.

He didn’t say a word. Couldn’t speak. He stepped toward her and cupped her bare shoulders in his hands. He pressed his cheek against her hair, breathing in the rich, flowery scent of her hair and skin. Laurel moved smoothly into his embrace, her arms looping around his waist, her soft, full breasts pressed to his chest.

She stirred against him, murmured his name, and his arms moved down to encircle her, gripping her tightly to him. For a moment, Connor felt as if he might explode.

Then his hands went up to her hair and he lifted her face to his. Her eyes were huge, liquid blue, dark as the sea and churning with longing, a hunger to love and be loved. He felt her run her hands along the hard planes of his back as if to confirm the message that her eyes had already so eloquently expressed.

They had talking to do. They had important things to discuss, to decide. He needed to keep his head, act responsibly. Honorably. He didn’t want Laurel to have regrets. Recriminations. He couldn’t stand it if she ended up feeling that way.

He gazed down at her. About to say something. Anything. And yet, no words came. Finally, his head dipped to the irresistible lure of her moist, red lips. Their mouths met and merged, his kiss questioning at first. Then, as he felt her eager response, the kiss quickly deepened to a passionate expression of all Connor felt for her. And all Laurel felt for him.

Her hands glided over his muscular chest and shoulders, then around to his back again, boldly caressing him. Connor answered in kind, sweeping his hands down the curves of her lithe form, from her shoulders to her hips, then back up again, to gently cup her breasts, circling the hardened tips with the pads of his thumbs. Laurel’s kiss felt wild against his mouth for a moment before she softly moaned with pleasure, her body sagging helplessly against him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in a husky voice. “You take my breath away.”

Moments later, they dropped onto the sand. As their kisses grew wilder and even more intense, Connor cushioned Laurel’s head with one strong arm, the other stroking her from hip to thigh. His mouth moved from her lips, down the column of her throat and across the silky skin exposed by the low neckline of her gown. With his fingertip and tongue he teased and tasted the sensitive flesh at the top of her cleavage and soon had loosened the zipper at the back enough to pull the fabric down, exposing her breasts to his passionate touch.

He felt Laurel’s fingers moving through his thick hair as his mouth covered one rosy, sensitive nipple. She moaned and stirred under him, pressing her hips provocatively against his. He was sure that she must have felt his readiness for her, his throbbing need to make them one. He took a deep, ragged breath and lifted his head to look down at her. Her eyes were half-closed, dazed with passion, her gorgeous face flushed, her glorious hair splayed out around her head like a cloud of spun gold.

“Laurel. Darling,” he whispered. He kissed her lightly and then swallowed hard. “If you want me to stop, now’s the time to say it.”

She framed his face with her cool, soft hands and looked deeply into his eyes. “I want you, Connor. I want to make love with you. Please.”

His pulse beat madly out of control as her words penetrated his fevered brain. Her thrilling caresses had set a fire burning inside him that burst out of control. He struggled to repress an instinctive impulse to plunge himself into her body at his next breath. As he held still above her, trying to slow himself down, her fingers nimbly opened his shirt buttons and he felt her warm mouth moving over his chest, kissing him, tasting him, her warm, wet tongue swirling around his sensitive nipple.

He felt his body shudder and he moved to rest on his side in the sand, as Laurel’s caresses moved lower, her mouth tenderly exploring his flat abdomen, her hands caressing his chest and then his thighs. He felt her unfasten his belt and the top of his pants, then felt her hand slip inside his pants to cup and caress his male hardness, stroking him until he thought he’d cry out with the unbearably intense pleasure of her touch.

When Connor knew he could stand no more of her seductive caresses, he raised himself above her again, his hand sliding up under her gown, up her smooth, strong leg. His fingertips found the lacy edge of her panties and his fingers slipped inside, seeking and finding her slick velvety warmth. He could feel that she was more than ready for him. But he wanted to make this perfect for her, he wanted to thrill her in a way no other man ever had before.

His fingers expertly stroking the peak of her pulsing womanhood, Connor was alert to the slightest shift of her body, the slightest change in her breathing, eager to please her, to touch her exactly as she wanted. His mouth moved again to her breast, sucking and soothing her nipples. Laurel fell back against the sand, sighing and writhing with pleasure as his masterful loving pushed her higher and higher. She gripped his powerful shoulders, her hips thrusting up to meet the lovingly slow strokes of his hand.

He felt her shiver and press her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. She took a deep, shuddering breath and pressed herself close to him.

“Connor, please. Come to me,” she said. “I can’t wait anymore.” With her hands on his hips, she gently urged his body to cover her own.

“Neither can I, sweetheart,” he whispered. With his mouth pressed to her own, Connor hastily pushed her gown up over her hips and settled between her thighs. Moments later, he made their bodies one.

He heard Laurel’s sharply indrawn breath and felt her body tense, then tremble in his arms. He held very still, kissing her hair until he felt her relax again beneath him. When he began to move slowly inside her, he heard her moan deep and low at the back of her throat, but it was a sound of pure pleasure and it thrilled him, inspiring him to move even deeper, to give her even more.

Their bodies moved as one in an ageless rhythm, an echo of the steady pounding of the waves against the shoreline. Connor thrust faster and deeper, every sigh and movement of Laurel’s hips rising to meet his own, driving him wild with passion for her.

She was indescribably beautiful, unique and precious, the rarest treasure he’d ever know. As he brought her to a climax of pleasure and felt himself reaching his own, some dim, distant part of his mind felt as if this moment of complete possession had not served to satisfy one single drop of his hunger for her. To the contrary, to love her, to hold and have her this way had opened a door in his heart, or even his soul, that had been long left locked and sealed. But now it stood open, leading to a road of limitless longing for her—a need for her that would never be satisfied, never sated.