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“Dear God, Care…!” He groaned harshly as he slammed the bowl down on the side before turning back to take her firmly in his arms, molding the softness of her curves against his much harder body, knowing by the widening of her eyes as she looked up at him that she felt his arousal pressed against her. “Don’t hate me for this, okay?” he growled huskily. His head lowered and he crushed her lips beneath his, knowing as the feeling of rightness spread through his entire being that this was what he had wanted to do all evening. To hold Caroline. To crush her softness against him. To taste her.
Caroline hadn’t even seen this coming. She’d been feeling so relaxed after their meal and the light conversation, relieved that they were actually talking comfortably together again, that the fierceness of Nicholas’ desire totally took her by surprise. And thrilled her.
There was no way that she could deny the warm surge of her own desire as his lips devoured hers. He pressed her even closer to that pulsing hardness of his thighs, and ignited a burning response deep inside her as the kiss deepened and lengthened.
It was as if they had both been waiting for this moment. As if everything else that had happened the last twenty-four hours was irrelevant. Their passion felt as intense as it had been the previous evening, totally consuming, brooking no denial.
Caroline’s arms moved up to Nicholas’ shoulders and her fingers became entangled in the dark thickness of the hair at his nape as she held nothing back from her response. Lips parted. Tongues dueled. Their breath hot and heavy. Labored. Nicholas’ hands roamed wildly down her back, her hips, before cupping her bottom to hold her against him as his hardened thighs thrust into hers with the same rhythm as his tongue claimed and thrust into the moist cavern of her mouth.
Her back arched as his mouth left hers to trail a path of heat down the length of her throat. Licking. Tasting. Biting. Sending her totally out of control. Her nipples were highly sensitized, her inner thighs on fire. Hot. Moist. Aching.
She offered no resistance as he lifted her sweater and pulled it totally over her head, baring her breasts to his heated gaze.
Nicholas had never seen Caroline looking so wild and unkempt. Her hair was a tangle about her naked shoulders where he had pulled the sweater over her head before discarding it. Her eyes were almost black, her mouth red and pouting, lips slightly parted.
“You are so beautiful!” he murmured appreciatively as the heat of his gaze fixed on the swollen softness of her breasts with their aroused and inviting, dusky-rose tips. He lifted his hands to cup each of those creamy breasts, feeling their weight in his palms as he ran the pad of his thumbs across the already roused nipples, his gaze moving quickly back to her face as she gave a low, throaty groan in response to that caress.
Her lids were slightly lowered over glittering, blue eyes, her throat arched, lips parted, the tip of her tongue moving moistly across those parted lips as if she could still taste him there. His thumbs caressed her again, thighs pulsing anew as Caroline arched into that caress and her hands moved up to curve her fingers about his wrists. Inviting. Begging. Pleading-for more.
Nicholas gave her more, claiming her mouth once again even as he continued to caress the tips of her ultra-sensitive breasts. Caroline moaned low in her throat as he took her nipples between his thumb and finger and rolled them lightly, then harder, pressing, pinching; Caroline’s groans became breathless gasps, her inner thighs on fire.
The pleasure of his caresses was overwhelming; mindless pleasure. Only the demands of her body were important. And her body demanded Nicholas-all of him.
She wrenched her mouth from his, his skin feeling hot and slightly damp as her fingers brushed lightly against him. She reached down to pull his sweater up his body and over his head, before throwing it to the floor beside her own.
Caroline moved instinctively as she touched his bared flesh, her skin very pale against his as her fingers tangled in the dark hair that grew across his chest and then down in a vee beneath his denims.
Nicholas was just as broad-shouldered and beautifully male as Caroline had imagined he would be; his skin was slightly salty-tasting as she kissed him. Kissed his shoulders. The hollow at the base of his throat. His chest. The tight buds nestled amongst the dark hair.
His chest moved against her as he groaned huskily, and one of his hands became entangled in the length of her hair, bunching those tresses in his clenched fist as she flicked her tongue lightly over that hardened nub.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
Once again Nicholas lost his breath, all of his senses concentrated on the ministrations of her lips and tongue as she pleasured him in a way no other woman ever had. Nicholas experienced pleasure he had never known before, a pleasure that shot straight to his groin and down the length of his legs.
He had always been the lover. The instigator. The one in control. Caroline had wrenched that away from him the moment she’d begun to touch him. To kiss him.
She had turned the attentions of her mouth to his other nipple now, and her hands moved caressingly down the side of his waist and then to the length of his back, fingers lightly caressing, nails slightly rasping. Sending quivers of pleasure down the length of his spine.
His buttocks tensed, thighs instantly thrusting, his arousal throbbing demanding. He wanted her. Now!
But they had too many clothes on still.
Both of them!
Nicholas moved back slightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her gruffly as Caroline looked up at him protestingly for stopping her own pleasure. His gaze continued to hold hers as his hands moved to the fastening of her denims, unzipping them to pull them over the curve of her hips and down the length of her legs, before slipping her feet from them one at a time.
Nicholas focused his attention on Caroline’s last article of clothing. A pair of cream silk-and-lace briefs was now the only thing between him and the hot center of her arousal that he had caressed before and desperately wanted to touch again.