Flames Of Attraction. Brenda Jackson
tension inside her. “But if I don’t taste you now I’m going to go mad.”
She caught her breath, almost held it when he slid down on the bed and placed a warm kiss on her stomach before arranging her legs over his shoulder, bringing him face-to-face with her feminine mound. He was so close she could feel his heated breath on the swollen lips of her femininity. She closed her eyes and let out a deep groan the moment she felt his heated tongue on her flesh, and then he pushed that tongue deeper inside her and began moving it around in firm, hard strokes, then pushing in deeper, withdrawing then inserting it back in deeper and deeper again, over and over.
She soon discovered he was methodical and intense with his kisses no matter where he placed them. Holding tight to her hips with his mouth locked on her, he was using his tongue in ways she didn’t know it could be used, taking it places she hadn’t known it could go and giving her the most intimate French kiss possible while greedily feasting on her.
She screamed when a climax hit with the intensity of a train derailment. She felt her body break into tiny pieces filling her with a degree of pleasure she had never felt in her life.
She felt him leave her momentarily, watched through a heated gaze as he reached into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a condom. She watched him sheath himself before rejoining her on the bed and settling between her trembling thighs where the aftershock of a gigantic orgasm still lingered.
He leaned down and kissed her and she could taste the essence of herself on his lips, and then she felt him, the head of his hard and thick manhood pressing at her wet center. She craved the contact, was almost desperate for the connection, and was consumed with an abundance of heat that was generated by his desire for her and hers for him. He was building a need within her, one that made her feminine core throb. And as if he felt her need, he pulled back from the kiss, met her gaze to see her expression and reaction when he slowly began entering her.
Their gazes continued to hold, stayed connected as he began penetrating her deep, stretching her wide, filling her with the very essence of him. She was extremely tight and for a moment she read the question in his eyes and decided to respond before he could ask.
“No. It’s just been a long time for me,” she explained. She hoped her words had sufficiently removed any inkling that she was a virgin.
“Then tonight we’ll make up for lost time,” he said huskily, slowly pressing deeper inside her, filling her to capacity.
“We’re perfect together,” he said, and it was then that she realized just how deeply embedded inside her he was. All the way to the hilt. Their bodies were joined as tightly as any two bodies could be. They just lay there, him on top of her, inside her, while they stared at each other, taking in just what that moment meant and contemplating what would be the next move.
“I’m going slow to make it last,” he whispered just seconds before he began moving. Flexing his hips, he ground his hard masculine thighs against hers for deeper penetration with each stroke into her, lifting her hips up with the palm of his hands and locking her to him to fill her even deeper.
He started off with slow, even strokes, just like he said he would do. Then the tempo changed, the rhythm was switched and he began riding her faster and with more intensity, with an even deeper penetration. He threw his head back and a guttural groan escaped from deep within his throat. Her body was in tune with his, with every stroke, and she felt sensations filling her, taking over her, setting off another explosion inside of her.
She sank her nails into his shoulder, screamed his name when everything was ripped out of her, igniting every nerve ending, every single cell. She could feel every strand of hair on her head, every intimate muscle clench him, pulling everything out of him as he kept going, thrusting into her with an intensity that brought on another climax. She screamed his name again at the same time he screamed hers. And she felt him shudder inside of her, actually felt the condom expand under the weight of his release.
It took awhile for the sensations to begin to fade. He leaned forward and kissed her, thrusting his tongue back and forth into her mouth the same way he had done to her feminine core earlier and making her come again just that easy. Never in her life had she enjoyed such pure pleasure—such deep, piercing satisfaction.
Moments later after he released her mouth she pulled in another breath as she felt limp, lifeless, completely satiated. And then Quade lifted up slightly, raised his head to meet her gaze. At that moment something touched her deep. Then he slowly lowered his head as his fingers caressed her cheek and seconds later he was kissing her again, a lot gentler this time, while whispering that he hadn’t gotten enough and wanted more.
She couldn’t help but inwardly admit that she hadn’t gotten enough and wanted him again, as well. She could tell from the feel of him getting hard inside her all over again that what they shared was only the beginning....
* * *
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted Cheyenne’s dream. She opened her eyes, a little annoyed at the intrusion. Standing, she stretched her body trying to fight off the lingering sensual sensations of her dream. When the doorbell sounded again she quickly moved to the door. The last thing she wanted was for her babies to wake from their nap. More than likely her visitor was one of her male cousins who periodically dropped by to make sure she was okay. She had to admit they were thoughtful and always had been, even while thinking they’d been somewhat overprotective of her while growing up.
She took a quick look through the peephole and blinked. Her eyes then shot open wide as she looked out the peephole again. Because she had just dreamed about the father of her babies her mind had to be playing tricks on her. There was no way he could be outside on her doorstep. The sun had set and the person was standing in a shadowed area of the porch so she couldn’t completely make out the man’s face. But from the build of his body—especially the broad, masculine shoulders—reminded her so much of Quade. Her one-time lover. The man who was constantly a part of her dreams.
She found her voice, yet it was shaky when she asked. “Who is it?”
“Quade.”
She sagged against the door as a gush of shocked breath rushed from her lungs. Why was he here? Had he somehow found out about her babies?
“Cheyenne, I need to talk to you.”
His voice was just as she remembered; ultra husky and as sexy as any man’s voice had a right to be. Knowing she couldn’t keep him standing outside forever, she garnered as much strength as she could and slowly began twisting the doorknob while asking herself how she would handle seeing him again when the mere thought of the man sent lust ripping through her body.
The door opened and she immediately met his gaze, finding it hard to believe that this wasn’t a dream and he was actually here, standing on her doorstep—in the flesh. The air surrounding them suddenly became charged—just as it had that night. And she couldn’t help noticing that also just like that night, his body was molded into a pair of faded jeans and a pullover shirt. Both oozed a degree of sexuality that warmed her skin and created an intense yearning within her. The man was as darkly handsome as she remembered. Even more so.
To make matters worse, he was staring at her the same way he had that night on the beach and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that look of blatant desire in his eyes. Like before, he was getting to her without very much effort and she fought back the urge to reach out and touch him, while convincing herself that her hormones were out of whack and making her crave something she really didn’t want and definitely something she didn’t need.
Inhaling deeply she tried to relax, fight off the shock of seeing him. She was determined to find out why he was there while refusing to consider that somehow he had found out about the triplets.
“Quade? I don’t understand why you’re here,” she heard herself say. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”
He continued to look at her. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again, either,” he said softly, yet in a masculine tone. “But I saw you on the cover of a magazine. And you were pregnant.”
She