Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

flick her taut nipple with his tongue, drawing a quick inhale from her. "Because that would be a shame."

    Libby smiled. He was talking, but he had that look on his face of utter concentration and he seemed far more interested in her body than the conversation. Even his voice was beginning to fade and that was all right with her. Every cell in her body was alive and pulsing with need. She was acutely aware of his fingers splayed wide on her belly and the brush of his hair against her breast. Every curl of his tongue sent heat radiating through her straight to the welcoming dampness between her legs. Libby wrapped her arms around him, holding his head to her, giving herself up to the slow leisurely pace he set as he explored her body.

    "I love this little ridge right here, your hip bone." He rubbed the pads of his fingers over the bone. "Do you know how often I'd find myself staring at your hips and imagining myself lying just like this, your legs open and my face buried between them? I wanted to taste you so bad, Libby. I'd go to bed thinking about you and wake up with such a hard-on thought I'd explode. I still can't believe you're here with me."

    She tugged hard on his hair until he yelped. "I'm here, but I can't believe you were having erotic fantasies about me. I certainly never thought of myself as sexy and I never would have guessed you were looking at me that way."

    Tyson retaliated by nipping the inside of her thigh. "I was looking at you. I realized somewhere in the second year of college that I was fixating on you. I didn't want to be a stalker—even in mind only—so I forced myself to stay away."

    "Come here." She crooked her finger at him again.

    "Where?"

    "Right here." She patted her belly and widened her legs to accommodate his larger frame.

    Tyson lifted his body over hers and settled down on her like a blanket, sliding his body deep inside hers.

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    "You feel so good." It was an understatement, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
    His brain was malfunctioning again, wires crossing and electricity arcing so that every circuit was fried.
    And it was perfectly okay with him.

    He began to move, long, slow strokes, watching her face closely to see her reaction to every pressure, every caress. He wanted to know her body, know what made her gasp, what forced those small moans from her throat and especially what had her bucking her hips and crying his name.

    In the end, when she was nearly sobbing and he could no longer remember his own name, he allowed them both release, taking them over the edge so that they clung to one another, barely able to move.

    Libby felt like spaghetti, so relaxed she wasn't certain she could make her way to the shower. She lay beneath him, holding him to her. "I love you, Tyson Derrick. I love you more than you'll ever know."

    He kept his face buried in the softness of her neck, struggling to keep the tears burning behind his eyelids from being shed. Why did she have to go and say things like that when he had no idea how to respond?
    He tried to think back over his life, to remember if and when someone had said they loved him. "My Aunt Ida."

    "What?"

    "She said it to me once when I was very ill. I remember she came to my room and sat with me because my fever was so high. She told me she loved me."

    "Of course she loved you. She left you a share of the house. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't think of you as her son."

    "You're good for me, Libby."

    "Silly man. I know that. I'm going to take a shower."

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    "I forgot we'd need towels."

    She laughed as he eased his body away from hers. "You remembered candles but forgot the towels. I guess you hit all the essentials. I'll just drip dry."

    "I'll be happy to lick the water off of you."

    "Thank you. I may take you up on that." Libby slid off the bed and made her way to the large bathroom with the double shower and the glass doors. "Whoever built this house wasn't in the least bit modest, was he?"

    She didn't wait for Tyson's answer, but stepped beneath the spray of water, allowing it to run over her skin like a downpour of rain. Even something so simple as a shower felt sensual. Tyson had changed her entire world, especially how she felt about herself. She rinsed her hair and wrung it out as best she could.

    "I'm going to need a sheet,"