Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)

Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2) Page 34

Author: Robyn Carr

He kissed her again. And again. And then with his arms beneath her, stood up, lifting her. As he carried her toward his room, he felt her mouth against his neck, pressing soft kisses there, sucking gently at his earlobe, making small, beautiful noises.

He put her on his bed and she came up on her knees, facing him. His lips against hers, he began to work the buttons of her shirt. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt and ran them over his smooth chest, teasing his nipples. He spread her shirt open and over her shoulders, letting it drop. He looked down at her; bruises healed, her skin was flawless. She reached her hands behind her and unhooked the bra, flinging it away. For a moment he just stared, filling his eyes with her lush, ivory skin, her full breasts. When he met her eyes, she was smiling up at him, pleased to have his eyes on her.

Preacher ripped his shirt over his head and pulled her against him. He was already making a nice big tent in his sweats. “Paige,” he said, holding her close. “Oh, this could be over way too fast….”

She laughed softly, kissing his neck, his cheeks, his lips. “Lucky for us, we don’t get just this one chance.”

The thought had never even crossed his mind. In his panic about doing the right things, making her happy and pleasing her, it hadn’t even occurred to him that this was the beginning, not the final exam. He could mess it up, like he half expected to, and he could still get a second chance. His hands went to the snap on her jeans and popped it. “I have condoms, Paige.”

“Have you been screened…since the last time…? Because I was checked after the D and C and I’m on the pill.”

“I haven’t…” He kissed her again, drowning in her mouth. His hands on her hips, he slowly slipped the jeans down. “There hasn’t been anyone. There’s no chance. Oh, I can’t believe how good you feel. I can’t believe I get to touch you like this….”

She closed her eyes, feeling his hands run up and down her sides, over her bottom, along her hips and up again. His hands were so big and powerful, but as she expected, his touch was careful and tempting. Slow and delicious, driving her crazy with longing. She put her hands on his hips; the sweats came down easily, despite the obstruction of an amazing, beautiful erection. “Look at you,” she said in a breath, smiling, taking in his broad, hairless chest, narrow hips. She finally saw the rest of that tattoo on his left upper arm that peeked out from under the snug sleeve of a T-shirt—an American eagle.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered against her mouth.

Still kneeling, she directed his lips lower, to her breast. With a soft, easy tongue he circled her nipple and she dropped her head back, sighing. That nipple came to life under his tongue and he pulled her harder against his mouth and gently suckled, drawing a deep moan from both of them. He felt her pull his hand from around her until it was in front of her. With her hand over his, she slid it down, over her belly, past her soft mound and deeper. Her fingers on top of his, she pressed them into her and moved them. “There,” she whispered. “There,” she said again. He memorized the place, the sound. The details.

He would have no way of knowing that his skill as a lover was not an issue with her, but the fact that he wanted only to please her, to make her happy, that was huge. It took only a second of showing him where and how to touch and he was on his own, driving her absolutely mad with desire. Maybe it didn’t occur to him that he wasn’t the only one who’d been a long time without this pleasure in his life. For Paige, it had been a lifetime. And she was so ready to feel both love and pleasure.

John pinched his eyes closed and prayed for control. He hoped he would be able to tell when she was satisfied—he wasn’t completely sure how that worked. He’d never paid attention before. A lot of panting and squirming, he assumed. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d just tell him.

The sensation of her breast against his mouth, his fingers in her soft, slick folds made him light-headed. Then her hand went to his erection and he groaned miserably. He lifted his head. “You better not do that yet,” he told her. “I’m sorry. I wanted you so bad, it’s lucky we made it to the bedroom….”

She let herself slowly drop back onto the bed, pulling him down with her. “Not a problem, John,” she whispered. “I wanted you just as bad.” He held himself over her and she put his finger back on that spot, reminded him how to move it and said, “Oohh,” just before she kissed him again, her tongue sweet and strong in his mouth. He worked it a little bit and her moans came stronger, her hips pushing against his hand.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything you want,” he said. “I want this to be right for you.”

She touched him boldly again and said, “John, let’s take care of this, right now. Right away. We can experiment later….”

“I wanted to do it for you first,” he said. “I want to make you feel really good.”

She laughed softly against his lips. “I do feel really good,” she said.

She opened her legs for him and he lowered himself over her. As she guided him with her hand, he pressed himself slowly and deeply within her. He was amazed by her strength, amazed that she seemed not at all overpowered by him, but rather a formidable partner as she rose to meet him, pulled him in. “Ah,” she said. “That is so perfect.” He heard her hum deeply, felt her move her hips beneath him, and he began to pump his hips to her rhythm. He figured he’d be good for seconds, not minutes, and hoped it would be enough. But he remembered then, remembered what brought that deep moan from her and slid his hand between their bodies and down, inching his finger toward that spot that she loved. And he heard it again. “Oh, John….” She moved harder, throwing a leg over him and pulling him deeper and deeper. He rubbed that hard little knot while he thrust his hips, and beneath him, she was pounding against him, meeting him with each movement.

Something happened immediately. Her body tightened around him and he felt a clenching, a squeezing, a pulsing. It startled him, it felt so good. It was so amazing, he was able to hold himself back because he was in a trance. This was a first for him; he’d never noticed this before. Never felt it. He froze as her breath caught and she strained against him, hot spasms closing around him, drenching him in liquid heat. “Paige,” he whispered, overcome. “Oh, Paige.” She cried out softly, again and again, grasping him powerfully, lost in her own orgasm, and then her mouth was on his again, devouring him, sucking at his lips and tongue. He rocked with her as she climaxed, while she pulsed with such power, until it felt like there was nothing left in her; then she slowly began to relax beneath him, weak in his arms. Weak and limp and satisfied, all the strength he’d felt a moment ago turned to nothing but softness in his arms. He was in awe of her response. Looking down at her, brushing her hair away from her face, he asked in a hoarse whisper, “Was that it?”

She smiled dreamily. “That was it.”

“That’s incredible,” he said.

She laughed softly. “Yes,” she said. “But, John,” she said, moving her hips beneath him. “We’re not done.”

“No,” he said, smiling. “I guess we’re not.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and with his hands on her bottom, he drove himself into her until he let it go, and it was more powerful than anything he’d ever known in his life. It shook him to know he could do this for her, feel this with her. Every muscle in his body flexed, then trembled, and then slowly began to relax. It took him a long time to stop panting; took him quite a while to breathe evenly. He rose above her. “Paige,” he said weakly. “I never felt anything like that in my life.”

She touched his face. “You’re just too good to be true, you know that?” she whispered. And kissed him. She knew it would be like that—his every touch was powerful yet sweet, so like him in every way. “John, promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You can tell me anything, John. Never be shy with me again.”

“Never,” he said, and slowly lowered his mouth to her breast, drawing gently on a nipple. And she said, “Oooh, John.” He memorized the place, the sound.

So this was what it felt like when you loved someone, when you wanted to please someone rather than just be pleased. When you paid attention to what made her purr and sigh. He hadn’t known about it. As he held her close, he couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop touching her, tasting her and exploring her body with gentle fingers. With kisses. With his mouth, his tongue. “I don’t think I can get enough of you,” he whispered to her.

“Good. I’m not tired at all. And your hands on me…Your hands are like velvet. You’re so careful, but you don’t miss anything. It’s how I knew it would be, John. You’re so perfect.”

“Paige, is this how it is? Do other men know all about this?”

She laughed softly. “I don’t know what other men know. I’m not very experienced, either.”

“I’ve never…I swear, I’ve never felt like that.”

“Neither have I. You’re a wonderful lover. Wonderful.”

“I didn’t think you could want someone like me,” he told her.

“You don’t see yourself at all—I suspected that. John, you’re so beautiful, so smart and kind and strong. You don’t even realize how handsome you are. And you have the most incredible body—so big and hard and fit. Not an ounce of fat or flab.” She ran a small hand over his shoulder, down his biceps. “Your hands are so perfect—powerful and soft—all that kitchen work, I bet. Your hands on me…It’s everything I dreamed it would be. You just don’t see yourself.”

“I couldn’t believe it was really me you wanted. I thought maybe—”

“Shh,” she said. “Don’t you think after the kind of life I’ve had, I know a good man when I find one? How could you doubt me?”

“I’m sorry about how I made you feel before,” he said. “Like I didn’t want you. When, God, you were all I’ve wanted since…Since almost the first day.”

“Somebody said something,” she said, but she didn’t say it angrily.

“Mike told me I’d better step up, take care of my girl, or I might lose you.”

“I think you’re stuck with me. But just the same, I’m glad you didn’t wait any longer.”

“You make it so easy,” he said. “All I wanted was to make you feel good. I didn’t know it was going to be that wonderful for me, too. And when I felt it—your pleasure—I thought I was going to pass out, it felt so good.”

She put her hand on him. He was already rising again.

“I want to make you feel like that every night for the rest of my life,” he said.

“I kind of like that idea,” she said. “John. I don’t want to scare you away, but I’m in love with you.”

He buried his face in her neck, in her soft hair. “Baby, I love you so much, I think I’m going to die of it.”

“Do you see, John? This is all I want. You. You loving me. Me loving you.”

“Now what?” he asked her, her hand on him, his hands on her.

“Now we do it again. Slower.”

Thirteen

The sun came out, and though the December air was cold, the day was bright and sunny. When Mel got to town, she checked in with Doc to see if anything was going on. Then she went over to the bar to have a cup of coffee with her husband.

Jack was a definite morning person; it was his best time. He got his exercise splitting logs if the weather was decent, and he did this year round, even in summer when there was no need to lay a fire. He’d leave Mel sleeping and sneak away quietly. He liked to be around the bar first thing in the morning, check on what Preacher planned for food, inventory his supplies, make a list of chores to finish, be sure everything was set for the day.