Red Lily

offered it. “I brought you these because it’s how I think of you, how I’ve thought of you since the beginning. I’ve never thought of anyone else the same way.”
    She stroked the petals over her cheek, breathed in their fragrance, then set the lily aside. “Undress me.”
    He lifted a hand, nudged the thin strap from her shoulder, laid his lips there. In turn, with her heart beating thickly, she slid the jacket off his.
    Then her mouth found his as her fingers opened the buttons of his shirt, as his drew down the zipper at the back of her dress. His hands cruised over her back, and hers spread over his chest. When her dress slithered to the floor, she stepped out of it—then held her breath as he eased back and just looked at her.
    She wore flimsy scraps of red that shimmered in the candlelight against her smooth pale skin. And high, highheels with long, long legs. Desire, already impossibly strong, clutched at his belly.
    “You’re amazing.”
    “I’m skinny. All angles, no curves.”
    He shook his head, reached out to trace a finger over the subtle curve of her breast. “Delicate, like a lily stem. Would you take your hair down?”
    With her eyes on his, she reached up to pull out the pins, then skimmed her fingers through it. And waited.
    “Amazing,” he repeated. Taking her hand, he drew her to the bed. “Just sit,” he said, then knelt in front of her to slip off her shoes.
    His lips trailed up her calf and had her clutching the edge of the bed. “Oh God.”
    “Let me do the things I’ve thought about doing.” His teeth grazed the back of her knee. “All of them.”
    There was no thought to deny him, and no words that could surface through the flood of sensation. His tongue slid along her thigh, that mouth burning tiny brands into her flesh even as his hands traveled up, tracing her breasts with his fingers until they ached over her thundering heart.
    She shuddered out his name, falling back on the bed as he came to her.
    She could hold him close now, touch as she was touched. Taste as she was tasted. The pleasure filled her—the glide of his hands, the heat of his lips, the catch of his breath as they rolled together to find more.
    No rush, he’d told her, but he couldn’t slow his hands. They wanted to take, and take more. Her breasts in his hands, in his mouth, small and firm and satin smooth, and when he feasted on them she bowed up, exposing the long, slender line of her throat.
    At last, she was his.
    Her nails bit into his back, scraped down his hips. Tinythrilling pains. Then she was over him, her mouth as greedy as his, and her quick, gasping breaths roaring in his head like a storm.
    Candlelight sheened over her skin, skin going damp with the heat they fueled through each other. The gold of those flickering lights glowed in the deepening blue of her eyes as he slid his hand over her, found her hot. Found her wet.
    The orgasm was like a burst of light, a stunning flash that blinded her, set her body on fire then left it to glow. She felt herself slide toward oblivion, then come back into the bright, bright world of swimming sensations. Her body was awake, alive.
    Then his mouth found her and sent her spinning beyond pleasure. It was a roiling heat that built and built, then gushed through her so that she was weak and wavery when he dragged her to her knees.
    He looked at her, into her it seemed, so deep she thought he must see everything she was. And his mouth took hers in a kiss that made her heart tremble.
    So this was love, she thought. This utter trust and surrender of self. This complete gift of heart that left you open, defenseless. And full of joy.
    She touched her hand to his cheek, her lips curving as she shifted, as she wrapped her legs around him. “Yes,” she said, and took him into her. “Yes,” then arched back with a moan as the beauty swamped her.
    He lowered his brow to her shoulder, barely able to breathe as she closed around him. But he drew her back to him, heart against heart. Not close enough, he thought. It could never be close enough.
    Her arms locked around him, her mouth found his as they rocked themselves toward the edge, and over.

    T HERE WAS PROBABLY something more relaxing than sprawling on a big bed, limbs tangled with your lover’s after mind-melting sex. But Hayley figured it was probably illegal.
    In any case, she’d take this shimmery afterglow.
    As far as romantic nights, this one left everything else she’d experienced in the dust.