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sweat, and the coarser textures of body hair and hard muscle.
Cullen shuddered against her. She heard his harsh intake of air, felt his hands at her waist, then a sense
of weightlessness. Rachel's head snapped forward as he lifted her. Her arms automatically clamped
around his neck to stabilise the movement. He clasped her buttocks, hoisting her even higher.
Instinctively, her thighs parted and gripped his hips. The movement brought her hard against him, and she
felt the coarse rub of denim against her inner thighs, the brush of his hand against her female flesh, the
rasp of a zipper, then the unmistakeable satin-hot bluntness of his sex lodging against her opening. A split
second later, he began pushing himself inside her.
Rachel contracted around him in shock, making his entry more difficult. She couldn't see him, but she
knew he was large, stretching her delicate flesh to its limits. When she realised he was only part way in,
panic tightened her internal muscles even further.
Cullen's head shot up; his gaze locked with hers. He looked dazed, and she sensed his stunned
realisation of how far they'd come, and how impossibly fast.
For an agonising eternity he didn't move, and in those moments her panic, and much of her discomfort,
subsided. He felt hot inside her, inescapably muscular and male, and she wanted to feel all of him. But
she also felt his hesitation, and that sent panic of a different kind twisting through her. She couldn't bear it
if he stopped now, but the dazed look had left his eyes, and now they glittered with a sharp, savage
awareness.
"I'm too big," he rasped.
"No." Rachel arched, deliberately parting herself more widely over him, inviting him deeper into her
body. She heard his intake of air, felt the raw tremor that shook him. Sweat sprang out on his skin,
making him glow copper in the half-light. His lips drew back, baring his teeth as he fought for the control
she was intent on denying him; then, with a rough sound somewhere between a groan and a purr, his hips
jackhammered, and he thrust himself all the way in.
Time stopped. Rachel registered the wild dilation in Cullen's eyes, her own sense of unreality. She was
backed up against a wall, her arms and legs wrapped around Cullen, and he was so deep inside her that
her muscles quivered in reaction to his alien heat and hardness.
And then he started to move. Roughly, jerkily at first, as if he were still fighting for control after the
explosive shock of entry, then more smoothly, as she softened around him and lubricated the solid male
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glide of his flesh.
He shifted, pinning her more securely against the wall, one hand gripping her nape with surprising
gentleness. His gaze linked with hers as he thrust with a steady, hungry intensity that she met and
matched. He might not love her, but at the moment it didn't matter, they were man and woman, and he
wanted her. Only her.
She could feel the tension inside her building, gathering, with startling speed. His gaze sharpened, moving
beyond purely physical absorption, and he thrust harder, short, sharp shoves that made her tighten
unbearably. With a shaky cry she let the shimmering delight take her. His mouth found hers, cutting off
the small sound, and then he groaned and tensed and drove himself so deep inside her that she could feel
him against the entrance to her womb, could feel the pulsing stream of incandescence as his whole body
shook with the fury of his release.
Minutes later, Cullen stirred. They were still locked together in a limp sprawl against the wall. Rachel's
legs were still clasped around his waist. Reluctantly, he disengaged himself, letting her slide until her feet
touched the floor. She lifted her head. Her dark hair was a wild cloud, her eyes heavy-lidded. The pale,
delicate skin around her mouth and along her neck was pink, abraded from his stubbled jaw. Possession
jolted through Cullen, roughly, arousingly. She looked like a woman who'd just been thoroughly loved. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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