Free Touch the Horizon by Iris Johansen

of his breathing, a pulse leaping erratically in the hollow of his throat. “Turnabout is fair play, love,” he said hoarsely. “Would you like to taste me too?” She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed compulsively on the parted lips so close to her own. “Then, come to me. Take me.”
    She needed no second invitation. She pulled his head down with a trembling eagerness, her tongue exploring his lips and teeth with delight before capturing his tongue with her lips and sucking gently. He stiffened and groaned deep in his throat, his hips suddenly jerking forward against the cradle of her thighs. He plunged his tongue deeper within her, pressing the hollow of her cheeks gently with his fingertips, and she obeyed the signal by increasing the pressure and nibbling teasingly with her teeth. He jerked again, and she could feel his heart trying to burst through the wall of his chest. He raised his head and drew a deep, shaky breath, his eyes dark and glazed. “We’d better stop that, sweetheart. It comes too close to the real thing. I keep thinking of how sweet and hot it’s going to be when I’m drawn into you and held that tightly.” He moved down and rested his head lightly on her breast. “Your heart is beating as crazily as mine.” He rubbed his head back and forth against her. “And it’s causing mine to beat even harder to know I can make you that excited.” His hands were at the top of her dress. “I want to feel your heart under my hand. I want to taste your pretty breasts. Is that all right with you, windflower?”
    “You’ll be disappointed,” she said shakily. “I’m not exactly voluptuous.”
    “I won’t be disappointed.” He was pushing the dress carefully down to her waist, his eyes burningly intent on her small naked breasts. “Lovely,” he said softly. “Round, firm, and perfectly shaped, like creamy tulips with delicate pink centers.” His hand cupped her gently, his probing fingertips engendering a throbbing that spiraled in intensity. “I want to feel you respond as I suck the nectar from those pretty flowers,” he said thickly, lowering his lips to her nipples, which were already budding in invitation. His fingertips pressed over her heart with a light testing pressure as his lips closed on her. He gave a low growl of primitive satisfaction as her heart jumped wildly when he began the tender pulling suction that sent a rioting flame to the center of her being. The thumb and forefinger of his other hand began to roll the taut crest of her other breast, alternating gentle and rough pressure in tempo with the suckling of his mouth and tongue.
    She cried out and arched up against him, her hips searching blindly. “You like that?” he muttered, his teeth nipping gently at her. “Oh, God, so do I. I love to touch you. I wish I could have you like this always. Naked and swollen and just waiting for my hand and lips. I don’t see how I’m going to get through the next few days without taking you.” His warm tongue brushed the other tip held between his fingers. “I’m going to need something to hold me. Don’t put anything on between us. Okay? I want to know there’s just you, sweet and warm and clean beneath your clothes. And when I can’t take it any more, I want to be able to unbutton those clothes and take these pretty things out and hold them. Will you let me do that, Billie?”
    “Yes, if you like,” she murmured, her face flushed and languid. She would have promised him anything at that moment. She felt as if she were melting inside, liquid and flowing with emotions that were burning her with a blue-white flame.
    “I like.” The creases at the corners of his eyes deepened as he suddenly grinned. “And that’s a hell of an understatement, love.” His hands left her as he sat up and rapidly unbuttoned his shirt. “And now I’d like to feel all that soft roundness against me. Will you oblige me there, too, Billie?”
    He didn’t wait for a reply, but jerked open the cream