Free The Dangerous Hero by Linda Barlow Page B

felt wonderful. He was slim like a runner, but with the strength and coordination of a dancer. Her fingertips caressed his hair and wandered eagerly down over the nape of his neck. She liked the feel of his strong-boned shoulders beneath her palms; she liked the fresh, masculine scent of him and the way the pulse in his throat beat fast and raggedly, a sign of his intense arousal. Her impatient hands stroked him, glorying in his strength and firmness. Her fingers traced sensuous patterns on his back, dug into the flesh of his buttocks. But he continued to delay, tantalizing himself as well as her while she ground her pelvis against him, trying to find the right angle. She hardly recognized herself in the writhing, shuddering creature who so urgently needed him to fuck her.
    "So impatient," he said again, low. Kissing her hungry mouth, he positioned himself so she could feel the pressure of his cock ready to pierce her depths. "Here we go."
    When he finally shoved into her, his stroke was sure and hard. She was so ready for him that he easily penetrated her, even though she couldn’t even remember the last time she'd had sex. Instinctively she lifted her hips to meet him. His iron control evaporated. He began moving in a frenzy of primitive possession.
    They rocked together, finding a hectic rhythm that was devoid of nuance or sophistication. Viola’s pleasure built rapidly, growing and mounting until the whole world seemed to hold its breath. She rocketed into her orgasm after only a few more seconds, so close was she to the crest. She cried out, and then laughed aloud with the exhilarating joy of the moment.
    Stephen was right behind her. He slammed into her once, twice, three more times before she felt his entire body stiffen and go rigid. He didn’t cry out as loudly as she had, but he did keen his pleasure—a low, sensual sound.
    Afterward they lay quiet, limbs entwined and both trying to catch their breaths. She could feel his heartbeat—very rapid when she first became aware of it, but soon settling into a much slower and more regular rhythm. Such a nice heartbeat, she thought.
    His lips against her hair, he said, "I love how you laugh after you come. You did that nine years ago, too. It's awesome."
    She laughed again. "It's just that I feel so happy, so completely alive."
    "God, I've missed you, Viola." His voice was affectionate. His hands were fondling her as she lay cuddled against his side, her head on his shoulder. "You make me feel like a teenager again, too damn aroused to make it last."
    "Well, I’m glad I’m not a teenager any longer, given how much my age once freaked you out."
    "How old are you, anyway?"
    "Twenty-six. I'll be twenty-seven in July. You?"
    "Thirty in November."
    "It seems like such a trivial difference now, doesn’t it? My ex-husband was 19 years older than me."
    "Seriously?"
    She was already wishing she hadn’t told him that. It had just slipped out. She didn’t want to talk about Derek. Not now, not ever. "Yeah. Mistake, big one. I never should have married him."
    "How long did the marriage last?"
    "A little more than two years. But it seemed longer."
    "Unhappy marriage?"
    "Huge mistake."
    He caressed her gently, sympathetically. They both lay quietly for a few minutes, thinking their own thoughts. It felt comfortable. He was easy to be with. Had it always been like this? She thought it had. She had liked Stephen back then because he had treated her as an equal. No loftiness, no condescension. His own affable, cheerful manner was similar to her own. They had laughed a lot, she remembered. They'd had fun.
    "How did you happen to marry a man who was so much older than you?"
    "It was one of those professor/student things. He had a beautiful home, an art collection, cultured, fascinating friends. He'd recently divorced his wife and was looking to replace her with a younger model. He was persuasive, and I was dazzled. We had a whirlwind courtship, and everything happened quickly. By the