Oh my God!
He couldn’t catch his breath. Couldn’t think. He was going to hyperventilate. She lifted her other hand so she was holding his face, frowning up at him. He was vaguely aware of Carly’s soft gasp, of Niklas’s surprised exclamation.
But the only thing that mattered was the woman he could finally lay hands on. He gazed at her in wide-eyed amazement. In sheer abandoned awe.
“I can touch you!” he whispered.
Without giving it a second thought, Gideon swooped her up in a bone-jarring embrace and seized her lips with his. Gentle was the last thing on his mind. He still couldn’t believe he was actually touching her, could scarce wrap his mind around the fact. But then she began to respond, going soft and willing in his arms, and his body took over, not caring whether or not his mind believed.
The texture of her lips was soft, supple and warm. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. It wasn’t nearly close enough, so Gideon crushed her tighter to him. Her belly cradled his painfully hard shaft. She parted her thighs willingly when he pushed his knee between them.
He couldn’t stop moving his hands, greedy for every last sensation, fearful that this might be the only chance he had to feel. Every sensation, every texture, he marveled over. The delicate skin of her neck, the friction of his fingers rubbing over the cotton of her T-shirt. The way the softness of her worn blue jeans molded to her waist and hips. The taut muscles of her pert ass fit perfectly in his hands.
Growling low in his throat, he flexed his fingers, rubbing his hands over her in bliss before firming his grip and hiking her up higher to fit his erection more snugly in the cradle of her thighs.
A soft giggle, a male chuckle sounded from somewhere behind him. He couldn’t have cared less. Maggie was in his arms at last. He was holding her. He was touching her. He was kissing her. And she was kissing him right back with wild abandon. The house could have burned down around his ears, and he wouldn’t have been able to stop what he was doing.
A whisper of sound, and then Niklas’s energy disappeared. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Carly and Niklas were both gone. He’d thank them later for their discretion. Much later. Right now, kissing and touching were the only things on his radar. He tore his mouth from Maggie’s, desperate to sample every inch of her before this moment was snatched from him. His lips and tongue lavished attention across the bottom of her jaw and down the side of her neck. Desperate, he gripped the collar of her T-shirt and pulled it out of the way. He then proceeded to nibble and nip his way across her collarbone.
Delectable. He couldn’t get enough. One hand went to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up insistently. He’d never been so eager for anything in his long, long life. He wanted to feel and taste her. Wanted to lay claim to her. Wanted to bring her to peak after peak, until she screamed his name in abandon, mindless and addicted to his touch, as he was addicted to touching her already.
He cupped her generous breast, and he devoured his way back up the side of her throat. He groaned in appreciation. So damned perfect he could have wept for joy.
The sound seemed to startle her, and she began to stiffen in his arms. At first, he ignored it, sure with a little extra persuasion she’d come around. And so he pressed his hips more firmly against her, rubbing his erection into the vee of her thighs. A tiny moan escaped her, and he grinned against her skin.
But when he tried to capture her lips again, she turned away, pushing at his shoulders now.
For a man—for a demon—denied physical contact, denied carnal contact, for what felt like an eternity, stopping now required nearly more control than he was capable of. Chest heaving, heart racing, he pulled back, but only slightly. He couldn’t bear to let her go. The fear that he wouldn’t be able to touch her again was too terrifying.
“What? What!”
“Slow down,” she gasped. “Just…I need a second here.”
She wiggled until he set her back on her feet. But he refused to relinquish her waist. Somebody would have to kill him before he let go completely.
She glanced around the room. “Where did they…”
“Gone. It’s just us now, Maggie.” His chest heaved as he fought to slow his breathing.
“Gideon, I have to understand this,” she said, pushing gently at him, but he refused to be dislodged.
Shaking her head, she relented and rested her hands upon his chest. The feel of those small hands, the warmth, the weight of them sent pleasure coursing through his veins. His lips throbbed from kissing her. He’d never felt such a wondrous thing.
“You really couldn’t touch anyone before this, could you?” Disbelief warred with baffled confusion.
“No.”
“So I’m the first woman you’ve been able to…to touch?”