Free Tormented by Darkness by Claire Ashgrove Page A

over she placed a tender kiss to the center of his chest. “And I’m clean.”
    Rhiannon didn’t give him opportunity to assure her of the same. Sitting up once more, she pushed his dress pants to his thighs and set his confined cock free. As cool air touched his overheated flesh, and the promise of her moist heat hovered near the tip of him, a shudder worked its way down his spine. He kicked off his pants, settled his hands on her trim waist, and eased her down against his aching shaft.
    How or when she’d disposed of her panties, he couldn’t say. Maybe while she’d been helping him out of his shirt. Regardless, the warm moist heat that met his flesh scorched him from the inside out. His body responded of its own accord, his hips surging forward to slide his cock through her soft, feminine folds. A tremor rocked through her, vibrating into him. Her gasp ricocheted in chorus with the snapping fire.
    That little sound unraveled him on so many levels, Mick couldn’t process them all. All he knew was she was wet and willing, and she wanted him as much as he desired her. Determined to not slam into her with abandon, Mick gently lifted her body and held her in place as he aligned himself. He brought her down, at the same time he lifted his hips, easing into her tight flesh, marveling at the perfect way she gloved him.
    Bit by bit, he brought them together, taking his time to make sure she felt every inch of him the way he felt her. The effort strained his control, and when he was buried so deep he could go no further, he was shaking. His lungs refused to unclench, turning his breath in short gasps. “God…you feel…perfect.”
    Rhiannon twisted her hips, taking him a fraction deeper. “Mm. I’ve dreamed of this.”
    Yeah, so had he. Only this was ten times better than the fantasy. Rhiannon in the flesh made his imagination seem flawed and naïve.
    Hands on her hips, he tilted her pelvis forward and eased out of her sweet depths. Then applying gentle pressure to her hipbones, he guided her in countermotion, as he pushed in deep. She caught onto the rhythm, rocking slowly in time with him, her lashes fluttering as her breathing hardened along with his.
    Mick slid one hand up her slender spine, twined his fingers in the back of her hair, and urged her downward. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her mouth dusted across his. He latched on to her soft lips, nudged them apart, and drew her into a hungry kiss.
    Passion exploded between them. Beneath the ardent stroke of her tongue, his temperance snapped. The sound of their slipping flesh, the soft mewls that bubbled in the back of her throat, dragged him into a tidal wave of sensation. Her body demanded more. His responded, all too willingly. Pleasure pooled at the base of his spine, seeping outward, spilling into his veins until it filled every spot of emptiness his soul possessed.
    This was living. Unlike any life he had ever experienced.
    As he thrust in harder, Rhiannon’s sharp cry pierced through his awareness. Ecstasy sharpened to a fine point, so sweet it was painful as her inner walls fluttered around him. He pumped again, his breath lodged somewhere between his throat and his lungs, and Mick’s sense of reality fractured. Pleasure catapulted through his body, sending him headlong into unchained release. His hips spasmed, his fingers dug into her hipbones, and he held her still, spilling himself into Rhiannon with a drawn-out groan.
    Gradually awareness returned. He became aware of her gentle weight crumpled atop his chest, the soft fall of her breath against his perspiration-slicked skin. He gathered her into his arms and nuzzled the crown of her head, breathing in the flowery perfume that clung to her hair. Inside, he shook from head to toe. With that uncontrolled tremor, he knew. Something had happened to him in her arms.
    But even as he rolled her over and gazed into her limpid pools of blue, seeing completeness reflecting back at him, he told himself it was