IT wasn’t dream; it wasn’t vision. It was some hybrid of both that held her captive. Danni rolled over and snuggled beneath soft covers, unsure of where she was or how she’d come to be there. She was warm, though, and content.
She tried to open her eyes, but her lids were too heavy and the feeling of comfort too fine to disturb. Her pillow smelled of lavender and the sheets were smooth against her bare body. She was naked. The realization lit the first tiny flicker of apprehension. She never slept naked.
In bed beside her, something—someone—moved. She felt hot skin brushing hers as he rolled and spooned behind her. He was big. She could sense the weight of him, the length of the body pressed to her own. An arm circled her waist and pulled her tighter against him. His hand spread over her stomach and then slowly moved up.
Sean. She didn’t question how she knew.
Again she tried to open her eyes, tried to surface, but it was no use. Was it a vision, then? Something only in her mind?
His hand cupped her breast, his thumb moving in slow, languid circles over the nipple. He seemed to come awake in the act, slowly, sensuously, like a giant cat stretching out the tightly coiled muscles of his body. She felt awareness travel through him, and he made a sound that teased her nerve endings and made her skin feel hypersensitive.
Slowly, slowly he began to kiss her back and shoulders, moving her hair aside to reach her neck. His hands slid possessively over the edge of her hip to the slope of her spine, up to her nape and around to the curve of her throat. She felt the swollen heat of him hard against her bottom and she pressed into it, wanton, urgent.
He shifted, rolling her onto her back, and gently pinning her with his weight. His touch became demanding. He pressed his mouth to hers, hard and soft, like hot silk binding an unyielding force. She wanted to wrap her body in his kisses, wear them beneath her clothes during the hours of day when this would all be just a memory—a fantasy that hadn’t really happened. His hands roamed over her as if she was his to have and to hold, the span of his fingers reached from hip bone to hip bone, his lips following every intimate stroke.
“Touch me,” he said into her mouth as he caressed the flat of her belly, moving ever down to torment her with the seductive flick of his fingers. Boneless and compliant, she did as she was told.
She stroked him, eyes still sealed, inhibitions somehow locked away with her sight. A shadowy part of her mind knew this wasn’t right, it couldn’t be happening. But the rest of her didn’t care as he dipped and circled, rubbed and toyed with her, all the while drugging her with deep, slow kisses.
When she thought she might scream from the building tension inside her, he shifted, spreading her thighs with the slide of his hips. His body was hard and muscular, gloriously defined. She felt what she couldn’t see, exploring ridges over his abdomen, the tight bulge of his chest, the hard bunching of his arms.
She spread herself for him, trusting him completely as he pushed deep inside her and held. He filled her with every inch of himself, leaving no room for doubts or fears, no place for identity. She no longer knew where he ended and she began. She no longer cared. Loneliness, something that had been a part of her forever, ceased to exist.
Then he began to move—measured, sensuous strokes that brought friction and heat and a rising excitement she couldn’t contain. She was making sounds, ragged, erotic sounds that she’d never known herself to make before.
He whispered in her ear, words of encouragement, dirty words that made her hotter, wilder. Yes, she told him, yes she’d do whatever he wanted. And she would. In her blindness, she was willing to give up the control she always fought so hard to maintain. She was a vessel, begging to be filled with whatever he chose to give her.
His tongue brushed against her lips, mimicking the deliberate slide of his body. She wrapped her arms tight, not satisfied with merely the weight of him. She wanted to flatten herself until she was part of him. Her ankles locked at his back and she met him thrust for thrust. Doors to the hollow places she’d kept sheltered vanished, letting in the heat and building need he created. Like sunshine through open shutters, Sean chased back her fears, her isolation, and illuminated her darkest corners.
Still she was blind, depending on her heightened senses to guide her. Depending on Sean and his wicked touch, his demands, his rhythm. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and gently nipped before whispering a command that unleashed the pent-up excitement inside her. She climaxed with a force that rocked her body, pushing her hips up to meet his. Her fingers clutched the hard muscles of his shoulders as he braced himself above her and drove into her. And then he came along with a powerful thrust and a groan that filled her with triumph and sent her over the edge once again.
She kept him tight in her hold as his stiff body relaxed against her. He collapsed, rolling her with him so they were still connected, still linked by the hardness inside her. Unbelievably she was moving again, rousing him before he’d even yielded.
“I don’t want to wake up,” he said in her ear as he kissed her once more.