Free Into the Fire by Donna Alward Page B

narrow waistband and pushed it wide across his chest.
    God, he was still stunningly beautiful. His chest was wide and muscled from physical labor, and Ally pressed her lips against his collarbone. There was a sharp intake of breath as she slid her tongue over his slightly salty skin and teased the hard, pebbled nipple. A rough sound issued from his throat and she smiled against him, kissing her way to the other side.
    “Ally,” he said, his voice not quite as stable as it had been only moments before.
    She didn’t answer. Just slid the shirt over his shoulders and then moved her hands to the leather belt at his waist.
    She wanted to slow it down, make it last, so she took her time unbuckling the belt, then turning the button from its hole and sliding the zipper, tooth by tooth, to the bottom. She slid her hands inside the trousers, cupping his bottom with her hands, pulling him against her. Was there any inch of him that wasn’t toned and hard? As his hips touched her pelvis, she realized there wasn’t.
    She slid her hand around to the front of his shorts and cupped him, loving how he seemed to surge against her touch. She rubbed through the fabric until his breathing labored against her ear. He slid his hand from her arm down over her ribs, and then back up to cup her breast. The tip hardened beneath his touch, pressing itself into his palm. He wasn’t the only one ready and willing.
    “As much as I enjoy the idea of doing this standing up,” he murmured, trailing kisses against her jaw, “I think we can do it better justice by being horizontal.”
    There was no doubt now, was there? They were going to do this. There would be no turning back, and she was so hot and ready she was past caring. She wanted him with a burning heat that she’d only felt with one man—only with him.
    “I think so too.”
    She expected him to lead her down the hall to his room. What she didn’t expect was for him to sweep an arm beneath her knees and pick her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Her cheek was against his and her palm rested against the smooth warmth of his chest. His feet made shushing sounds against the unfinished floor of the hall, and he nudged his bedroom door open with his foot.
    When they were inside, he used the same foot to swing it closed again.
    The bed was neatly made, a plush duvet on the top. He laid her down gently, braced his hands on either side of her shoulders and pressed her into the mattress with his body. Horizontal now, he began kissing her again while grinding against her pelvis. Desire pounded through her as she gyrated in sync with him, mimicking what was to come. His hand pushed up her sweater and he bit her nipple lightly through her bra, making her cry out at the stinging arousal of it.
    “Lift your arms,” he commanded, stopping a moment to sit astride her hips.
    She obeyed and he pulled the sweater over her head. He reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulled the straps down her arms. Her nipples, already hard, reacted to the cold air and the heat of his gaze and puckered almost painfully.
    The moment he touched his tongue to the first tip, a dart of something deliciously dark shot to her core. She squirmed against him, seeking something—fulfillment, not release. It wasn’t time for that yet, but her body knew what was coming and was growing impatient.
    When he’d suckled and teased until she could hardly stand it, he slid off the bed and finished removing his trousers and shorts. She drank in the sight of him and held his gaze as she reached for the button of her jeans. A fire seemed to light behind his irises and he moved in to help. She lifted her hips while he slid the denim over her hips and down her legs.
    She was infinitely glad she’d decided on the delicate plum-colored bikini panties today, given the hungry look in Chris’s eyes. He cupped his hand against her heat and she moaned, throwing her head back. In one swift movement, the panties joined her jeans on the