Midnight Bayou

hips with more midnight lace riding low. Shapely legs in sheer black stockings and man-killer heels.
    “Close.” The breath was already burning in his lungs. “Very close. What’s this?” He traced a fingertip over thetattoo on her inner thigh, just above the lacy edge of her stocking.
    “That’s my dragon. He guards the gates.” She was trembling, and wasn’t ready to tremble. “A lot of men think they can get past him. A lot of men get burned.”
    He stroked his finger up, along that sensitive valley between lace and thigh. “Let’s play with fire.”
    He yanked her against him, devoured her mouth. And when that wasn’t enough, whirled her around to scrape his teeth along her shoulder, the side of her neck. With his face buried in her hair he ran his hands up her body, filled them with her lace-covered breasts.
    She arched back to him, hooked her arms around his neck and offered. The spin from patient to urgent left her dizzy, brutally aroused and ready to be taken. She felt the greed from him now, and felt her own rise to match it.
    His hand slid down, cupped between her legs, pressed, and brought her to the jagged edge of release. Before she could fall, he trailed his fingers down her thigh and with one fast flick, unhooked a garter.
    Her breath caught. Her body strained. “Mon Dieu.”
    “When I’m inside you, you won’t be able to think about anything else.” He unhooked a second garter. “But first, I need to touch you, the way I’ve been dreaming of touching you.” He rubbed his lips over her shoulder, nudged the strap of her bra aside. “Angelina.”
    He turned her to face him, let his fingers dive into her hair, draw her head back. “You’re mine tonight.”
    Denial, defiance, fought their way through seduction. “I belong to myself.”
    He scooped her up, laid her back on the bed. “Tonight, we’re going to belong to each other.”
    He closed his mouth over hers, stopping her words, drugging her brain. She turned her head to take a breath, to try to steady herself again. But his lips trailed down toher breast, over flesh, over lace, under it. The long, liquid tugs in her belly loosened her muscles, melted her will.
    She yielded, telling herself she was surrendering to her own needs, and not to him.
    He felt her give, the softening of her. Heard it in the low, throaty moan that was pleasure and acceptance.
    So he took what he’d been aching for since the first moment he’d seen her in the morning mist.
    Her body was a treasure, scented skin, female curves. He fed himself on the taste of it in slow sips and long gulps. Then freed her breasts to his hands, his mouth. His blood raged like a firestorm, but he let himself burn and tortured them both.
    When he rolled the lace down her hips, she arched. Opened. He traced his fingers over her, watching her face in the candlelight as her eyes closed, her lips trembled on a groan. And when he slid them into her, into the hot wet velvet of her, she bowed up, cried out. Drove him mad.
    Pressing his face to her belly, he sent her flying.
    Her body was a mass of aches, of joys, with the sharp edge of sensation slicing through like a bolt of light. It burst in her, sent her helplessly hurtling.
    She reached for him, closed her hand around him. He was hard as stone. She wanted him inside her as much as she wanted her next breath.
    “Now. I want you.” She felt him quiver, even as she quivered. Saw herself in his eyes as he rose over her. “I want you to fill me. Fill me up.”
    He clung to that slippery line of control, and as her legs wrapped around him, slid slowly, very slowly into her. Slid deep when she rose to meet him. Held there with his breath caught in his throat and everything he was lost in her.
    Sighs now, and a quick, rushing gasp. They kept their eyes on each other and moved, an almost lazy pace that spread pleasure like a warm pool. Their lips met, and hefelt hers curve against his before he lifted his head to see her smile.
    Flesh glided over flesh, silky friction. Music, the tragic sob of it from her living room, a sudden celebratory burst of it from the street below, merged together in his head with her quickening breaths.
    She tensed beneath him, her head going back to bare the line of her throat for his lips. She tightened around him, shuddered, shuddered. Once again he buried his face in her hair, and this time, let himself fly with her.
    Later, he lay watching the light play on the ceiling, stroking his hand along her