Wild Men of Alaska 03 - Dreamweaver

placed her other hand on his chest. Unbelievably, his heart pounded fast under her palm. His skin was hot like he had an internal sun heating him from the inside out.
    Slowly he grasped her shoulders. “Let me—I have to—” His mouth was on hers, kissing her, plundering, groaning as he yanked her into his arms. She melted into him. All of her soft curves linked with his hard angles, like puzzle pieces always meant to be together.
    “Gemma,” he moaned. “Please, I need—”
    “Yes, I need too, ” she rushed to finish for him.
    “Are you sure?” Warm rich brown eyes stared into hers.
    “God, yes.”
    “I don’t know how much foreplay—”
    “No foreplay.” She flipped the button free on his shorts, besides who knew what kind of time they had together? “We’ve had weeks of foreplay.” She slid his zipper down. “I need to see you. Really see you. All of you. Now.”
    In a flurry, he stripped off his clothes.
    Her eyelids threatened to close from the sheer beauty of this man, but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss a minute of viewing his body.
    There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. She’d guessed this from feeling him in her dreams, and dancing with him the night before. But in the flesh he was magnificent. Worship worthy. Muscles corded and hardened every inch of his skin. His upper body bunched as though he could easily shoulder the weight of the world, angling down to a solid waist with muscles defined in a way she’d never seen illustrated outside of a book. Her eyes traveled lower, hoping the promise of his torso extended to other parts as well.
    A choking sound came from him, and too late she remembered he could read her thoughts when they weren’t jumbled. They weren’t jumbled now. Call it a one track mind. She had it. Regardless of the blush heating her face, she had to look, and then stared. Her mouth fell open in a silent “O”.
    His penis jutted out from the V-line of his groin, proud and unapologetic of its size and thickness. He flexed the muscles of his abdomen, making it bob in a playful hello that was anything but reassuring. She’d felt that thickness and length pressing against her. But feeling and seeing apparently were two vastly different things.
    “Looking at me like that makes me glad for every damn mountain I struggled to climb.”
    She licked her lips. She couldn’t wait to climb him.
    A surprised guttural sound escaped him, and he took a large step back, putting distance between them. “Keep thinking like that and I won’t be able to behave.”
    When had he ever behaved?
    He’d snuck into her dreams, seduced her in her sleep. Bewitched her every thought. “I’m not asking you to behave.” Quite the opposite, in fact.
    “I want this to be special for you, Gemma. Not just a tumble like I’ve had with so many other women. I want to love you.”
    “Love me then.” The words came out like a dare. “Love me until I know nothing but you. And you know nothing but me,” she couldn’t help adding. She reached for the hem of her top and whipped it off, her breasts bouncing with the action. Her bottoms went next, leaving her as naked as Eve to his Adam. In this paradise, it was easy to imagine the world barely born and just the two of them existing to love one another.
    “Oh, Gemma.” A low moan escaped from deep within his throat. His hand clenched around hers, and the space he’d put between them disappeared like it had never been. A low growl preceded his fingers fisting in her hair, and his mouth devouring hers. She’d broken the thread he’d been holding onto, had felt it snap in the air with her last words. With the one hand gripping her hair, holding her mouth prisoner to his plundering, his other hand seized her hip, yanking her flush against him.
    His erection searched for entry between her thighs as though it had a mind of its own. That she had no doubt, as the bulbous head found her wet and slick. He lifted her leg around his hip and entered her with one hard thrust, arching her body backward.
    Breath whooshed out of her , and she couldn’t get it back.
    In this position, she was completely at his mercy. Not many men could hold her body this way, and do what he was doing to her without the strength of steel infused within his very fiber.
    Gasping, she tore her mouth free of his, her neck arcing into the bow her body had become. From chest bone to hip bone, they were one as he bent his powerful body over her, in a way forcing