The Shadows of Christmas Past

in Murphy's.
    Everything female in her had woken up and caught fire at the first sight of his eagle-nosed profile, the heavy lock of hair falling across his forehead, the sexy slash of his mouth, the wide shoulders and narrow hips. His smile, his confidence… his hands. Good God, what gorgeous, big, competent hands! She'd noticed them from the start. And wanted them on her from the start.
    She wanted them on her now.
    When he dosed the bedroom door and set her on the bed, she pulled him down beside her. He came with a smile, and a burning kiss that left her breathless.
    "Touch me," she said, placing his hand on her breast. "Here. Everywhere."
    "I will," he promised.
    He stroked her then, and slowly peeled her clothes away. His lips followed where his hands explored, and she caressed him. His hard-muscled body was a wonder to her. It was a long time since she'd been with anyone, but even if she'd been more experienced, Harry was still a revelation. She was amazed at how bold she could be with him, how greedy she was to touch and taste and claim every inch of him. She took great pleasure in exploring his body, loosening his clothes as she went. His turtleneck came off first. She liked his chest, with its well-defined muscles and pattern of dark hair that arrowed down in a vee to his flat stomach.
    "You work out," she said, and traced her hands over him.
    "Nope," he answered. "You are so beautiful," he told her.
    "I work out. Well, I lift a lot of bags of animal feed."
    Then they kissed for a long time, bodies and mouths melded together for a long, arousing time.
    When Harry got up to shed his trousers and underwear, she leaned up on an elbow to watch him strip. It felt deliciously decadent, really, watching a big, gorgeous man taking off his clothes for her.
    He turned around, and she had the pleasure of studying his bare backside while he searched through his dropped clothing.
    "Ah," he said. When he came back, he was holding a condom packet.
    Marj moved beside him and stroked his erection, loving the weight and heat filling her hand, wanting that same feeling inside of her.
    Within moments, Harry leaned her back on the bed. He caressed the insides of her thighs, and higher. His fingers danced and teased over her inner folds and clitoris. When she moaned and arched her hips upward, his mouth came down on her. His tongue drew more than moans from her; an orgasm pulsed through her almost instantly. She cried out, and her fingers stroked through his hair.
    He moved up her body, sliding skin on skin, then he came inside her. His hardness filled her, the fit completely perfect. They moved together slowly at first, setting up a gentle rhythm, savoring each other, letting the pleasure rise and build.
    It wasn't long, though, before his strokes became deeper, faster, and she rose to meet them with a hard-driving need of her own.
    The passion building to overwhelm her was more than just physical. He was inside her, their bodies joined, but there was another joining, something wonderful between them that went far beyond physical release. They were—
    Mated.
    She felt it as well as thought it, and the word and the feeling belonged to both of them. This was a passion that was deeper, richer.

    Roaring, rushing sensation overtook her, an explosion so wonderfully intense that she was consumed in long, lingering brightness that faded slowly back into the real world.
    "Whoa," was the most coherent thing she could manage after she finally came back into herself.
    "Ditto." Harry was a hot, heavy weight on top of her, and his lips were near her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe, sending little lightning flickers of renewed desire from her head to her toes.
    "You're good," she said.
    He gave a satisfied sigh. "I know."
    What might have seemed arrogant and irritating to her before just made her laugh now, a low, breathy, downright dirty laugh.
    He kissed her throat just beneath her ear, then moved slowly down her neck, her cheek, her eyelid, her jaw, her shoulder. Each quick, tender touch sent pleasure through her. His hand found her breasts, and her nipples were instantly hard and sensitive against his palm. His lips soon replaced his hand on her breast, and his hand moved down between her legs.
    She'd thought herself completely satisfied, sated, melted with happy exhaustion. But within only a few moments, she was alive with desire all over again.
    "I'm good " he said. "You're better."
    Then they made love all over again.

chapter 9
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