“You’re so tight,” he grated against her ear. “Wet and tight and hot. I’m not going to last long once I’m inside you, so we’re going to make damn sure you come first.”
She was shocked all over again. No man had ever talked to her that way. She couldn’t find the words to respond verbally so, feeling very daring, she reached down between them and tentatively wrapped her fingers around him. She was alarmed and excited by the size of his erection.
He groaned again and drove himself deeper into her grasp. She got the message. She tightened her hold on him.
“That feels so good.” He lowered his head and kissed her throat. His words were a feral growl against her skin. “Much too good. But I told you, your turn first.”
He began to work the incredibly sensitive nub of firm flesh between her legs. The sense of urgency became overwhelming. After a while she released him to clutch at his shoulders. She moved her lower body against his hand, wanting—needing—something more.
“Jake.”
The release swept through her, a storm of sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced. The little waves of energy convulsed her entire body.
She did not realize she was trying to scream until she discovered that he had covered her mouth with his own, effectively muffling a shriek of pleasure that would no doubt have been audible in the neighboring cabin.
She wanted to laugh, to cry, to sing. She had never known that her body was capable of such a response. She was still marveling at the wonder of it all when Jake fitted the blunt tip of his erection to her still-quivering body and drove relentlessly into her.
It was too much. He was too big. She was too sensitive. Pain and the remnants of recent pleasure twisted together. She gasped and flattened her palms against his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away.
Jake froze.
“Adelaide. What the hell—?”
“It’s all right,” she managed. “Just give me a minute.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He started to withdraw.
She dug her fingers into his back. “No. It’s all right. I want this. I want you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, damn it.”
He waited. She knew how much it cost him to restrain himself because his shoulders and back were wet with sweat.
Finally, cautiously, she urged him deeper. He braced himself on his elbows and sank slowly into her body.
A moment later his climax crashed through him. She caught his head between her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers so that she could kiss him. She swallowed his roar of masculine satisfaction.
She had never been so aware of her feminine power, never felt so strong, so free. The thrill was intoxicating.
Chapter 39
Jake opened his eyes and contemplated what was left of the fire. He should get up, stir the embers, add a couple of sticks of kindling and another small log. But he was feeling very good at the moment. The last thing he wanted to do was move. Adelaide was cradled spoon-fashion against him. It was the only way the two of them could fit on the cot. She was soft and warm and delightfully curvy. The primal scents of the recent lovemaking infused the atmosphere.
He knew then that in the future, whenever he thought of this night—and he was certain that he would think of it often—it would not be just the intensity of his own physical release that he would recall. It would be the intoxicating kaleidoscope of sensations created by the raw elements of passion that would sear his memories. He would remember how the small rivulets of perspiration between Adelaide’s delicate breasts had mingled with the sweat on his chest. He would recall how the dampness had pooled between her thighs. He would have wet dreams about her tight body and the way she had clutched at him when he tried to withdraw. Most of all he would remember the way she had found her release in his arms.
No, he really did not want to get out of bed to prod the fire, but the chill of the night would only get worse if he stayed where he was. Reluctantly he eased himself off the cot and got to his feet. He reached down to tuck the blanket around Adelaide’s bare shoulders. She stirred then, turning onto her back and stretching her arms over her head in a luxuriously sensual way.
A jolt of lightning shot through him, and suddenly he was aroused all over again. Minutes ago he had concluded that he had never been so satisfied—so thoroughly relaxed—in his life. But just watching Adelaide made him want to climb back onto the cot.
“Is it morning yet?” she asked.
“No.” With a determined effort he forced himself to turn away from the sight of a very naked Adelaide and crossed the small space to the hearth. He grabbed a poker and prodded the embers. “I just got up to put another log on the fire.”
There was a short silence behind him. He heard movement on the cot. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Adelaide was stretching again. But she was sitting up on the edge of the narrow bed. The blanket was pulled securely around her, covering the entire front of her body. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. She no longer looked luxuriously sleepy. Instead there was a new tension about her. He could sense her uncertainty. His good mood started to evaporate. Damn. She was already having regrets.
She cleared her throat. “This is rather awkward, isn’t it?”
“The fact that someone wants to kill us? Yeah, I’d say that definitely qualifies as awkward.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” she mumbled. “I meant this.” She waved one hand. “Us.”
He tossed some kindling onto the fire and watched the flames leap. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were inexperienced?”
“Because it didn’t matter, not to me. Did it matter to you?”
“Yes. No. I probably would have gone about things more slowly if I had known.”
Then again, maybe not, he thought. The realization that she wanted him had made him ravenous.
“I thought it all went quite well,” Adelaide said.
She sounded so smug, so pleased with herself. He smiled.
“I thought it went rather well, too,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I won’t read too much into what just happened,” she added quickly.
He stopped smiling. Straightening, he gripped the mantel and concentrated on the flames.
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked.
She exhaled softly. “I’m just trying to get things back on track between us.”
“We are not a couple of trains passing in the night, Adelaide.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that. The thing is, we’re partners. Two people caught up in a dangerous situation. We were thrown together by circumstances. You mustn’t worry that I will now think of us as . . . as lovers, simply because of what happened tonight.”
He had told himself that he would be patient. Sensitive. She had been through a lot lately. But a man could only take so much.
He turned around to face her. “We are partners. We are in a dangerous situation. And we were thrown together by circumstances. But like it or not, as of tonight, we are also lovers. Even if we never sleep together again for the rest of our lives, you cannot claim that we are not lovers.”
She watched him with a startled expression. “Are you angry?”
He thought about it. “‘Angry’ may be too strong a word. I’m irritated. Annoyed. Exasperated. If we pursue this argument much longer, I may get angry.”
“What argument?” She got to her feet, clutching the blanket at her throat. “For your information, I wasn’t arguing. I merely made what I consider to be a very reasonable observation. I thought describing what happened as ‘awkward’ was a lot more genteel than some other terms that spring to mind. After all, it’s not as if we’re in love and planning to marry. We’re a couple of people who are stuck together until we figure out who is trying to murder us.”
“You can call our relationship whatever you want—just don’t call it awkward.” He crossed the room in three long strides and gripped her shoulders. “Because it doesn’t feel awkward to me.”
“Really?” She paused, frowning a little. “How would you describe it?”