Blue Skies by Catherine Anderson
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “So damned beautiful. I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you.”
As though he meant to memorize every line of her face, he slowly began tracing her features with his lips, the arch of her brows, the bridge of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the angle of her jaw. With every caress of his mouth, he made her skin feel more electrified.
Carly squeaked in alarm when he suddenly caught her in his arms and rolled onto his back, drawing her up to sit astride his hips. The position drew the hem of her gown taut across her thighs. His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he gave her a slow grin. He reached to toy with a curl that lay over her breast, the light graze of his knuckles making her nipple grow instantly hard and sensitive.
“I love your hair,” he told her. “Your hair and those fabulous eyes were the first things I noticed about you.”
“Really?”
“You’re still nervous.” His grin broadened. “There’s no need to be. Not with me. I’ll never hurt you again. You know that, don’t you?”
She gulped and nodded. “Yes, I know. I, um—hmm. I’m just sort of—”
“Nervous?”
She laughed and nodded.
He stopped toying with her hair to settle his big warm hands on her bare thighs. She leaped and grabbed for his wrists.
“Easy,” he said softly.
He lightly caressed her skin with the pads of his fingers. His thumbs dipped to the sensitive inner part of her thighs, circling, tantalizing. Once again her heart began to pound like a piston, each labored beat a blow against her ribs.
He nudged her nightgown higher. With a feeling akin to horror, she realized that the hem wasn’t under her rump. She was sitting on him, bare butt naked, her buttocks on the denim of his jeans, the rest of her pressed against his hard belly. She wondered if he realized, then decided he probably did, which made her blush all over.
“The second thing about you that caught my eye was your legs. No contest, lady. You’ve got the most gorgeous legs I’ve ever seen.”
He continued his exploration of them as he spoke, his hands lightly skimming upward to trace the flare of her hips. Carly’s breath snagged in her chest. Her grip on his wrists impeded him not at all as he cupped his hands over her bare bottom.
“And you feel even better than you look,” he whispered throatily. “So soft and smooth and absolutely sweet.” He twisted his wrists free of her grasp to make fists on her nightgown. “I want to see all of you.”
“I thought—” She swallowed to steady her voice. “I thought we’d decided we needed a lead-in.”
He smiled as he pushed her nightgown higher. The cotton snagged on her tight nipples. The sensation made her gasp. He sat up suddenly, startling her half out of her wits. The friction and sudden pressure of his hard belly against the sensitive apex of her thighs sent jolts coursing through her.
“Arms up,” he whispered.
In one smooth movement, he peeled the gown off over her head. As he lay back down, he tossed the garment away. His eyes glittered in the moonlight as he trailed his gaze over her. Everywhere he looked, her skin burned, an exquisite torture that made heat build low in her belly.
“You are absolutely perfect.”
With the backs of his knuckles, he explored the indentation of her waist, the ladder of her ribs. When he reached her breast, he lightly stroked the plump underside with his fingertips, the caress so fleeting she craved more. He didn’t leave her to think about it overlong. The next instant, he’d settled his hands on her legs again. His fingers moved in titillating circles over her inner thighs, inching ever higher until his fingertips grazed the nest of curls at their juncture.
Anchoring her with one hand on her thigh, he parted the silken folds of feminine flesh and lightly touched an excruciatingly tender place. Carly gasped and jerked at the sensation. He smiled and continued to touch her there, teasing her with light flicks of his fingertip. She’d never felt anything like it. The heat within her intensified. Ribbons of electrical sensation curled through her belly.
When he suddenly stopped, her body had arched like a bow. He sat up and touched the tip of his tongue to each of her nipples. Then he caught her around the waist and rolled with her again, this time coming out on top, his torso forming a shadowy canopy of rippling strength over her. Dipping his head, he kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, tasting the tender inside of her lower lip, tracing the shape of her teeth, then pressing the tip of his tongue to hers in a teasing rhythm of advance and retreat.
Carly made fists in his hair, lost to the sensations and to him. Hank. This was how she’d felt the first time he kissed her—totally focused, wanting to melt into him. The mere brush of his hand over her skin sent lightning bolts shooting through her, and the heat within her became searing tendrils of fire.
“Hank,” she whispered feverishly. “Oh, yes.”
He grasped her wrists and drew her arms above her head. Then he moved back to look down at her, his eyes burning a trail from her face to her breasts.
“We’re not going to rush this,” he said in a raspy voice. “Not this time.”
He pressed his hot mouth to the sensitive place just below her ear, then he drove her nearly crazy, nibbling his way down the column of her throat. Her collarbone received his attention next. He trailed his tongue from her shoulder to the V, where he settled in with warm draws of his mouth over the pulse point, as if he wanted to drink in the very essence of her.
Carly’s spine arched when his hot mouth closed over her nipple. He pulled sharply on it, then gently grazed the throbbing tip with his teeth. She sobbed. He intertwined his large fingers with hers, keeping her arms above her head, while he teased and suckled her. When she tried to twist her hands free, wanting to touch him, he held them fast and continued the exquisite assault on her tender flesh until she quivered like a plucked bowstring.
Dimly she was aware that he shifted to one side of her and finally released her hands. She immediately made fists in his hair, holding on for dear life as he continued to kiss her breasts. He ran his work-roughened palm over her belly, kneading gently, his fingertips finding every sensitive nerve ending with unerring accuracy. Then he curled his fingers over the throbbing place between her legs. She jerked and cried out when he found the sensitive flesh that he sought.
He dipped for the warm, slick wetness at her opening and then laid claim to that throbbing flange of flesh again with the flat of his fingers, rubbing in a slow, circular motion that brought her hips up from the mattress. “There’s my girl. Give it to me, sweetheart.”
Carly could have withheld nothing from him. She arched against his hand. He pressed harder and quickened the strokes. Need consumed her. She felt as if she were poised precariously at the edge of a precipice. She tried to pull back, frightened by the sensations that burned out of control inside of her.
“Let it come, sweetheart. It’s okay, I swear. Just let it happen.”
She sobbed, arching higher. And then it felt as if a starburst went off inside of her—shards of sensation ricocheting out from the place he stroked. Her muscles quivered and then jerked with every pass of his fingers. She was vulnerable to him in a way she’d never allowed herself to be with anyone, completely and totally helpless, her body manipulated by each electrical pass of his hand.
Her skin damp with sweat, she collapsed in a puddle of sated flesh beside him. She was grabbing for breath as if she’d just run a dash. She pressed a hand over her heart, scarcely able to believe it hadn’t pounded from her chest.
Hank kissed her eyes closed, whispering nonsensically to her, the meaning of his words evading her. Slowly, reality moved in around her. The moon-touched darkness. The dark outline of the man who lay, still half-clothed, beside her. He soothed her with soft brushes of his hand over her moist skin.
When her breathing slowed, he claimed her mouth in another deep kiss that set her head to spinning again. Then he moved down to her breasts, rekindling
Dimly, she was aware of his lips on her belly. Then, with a shock, she felt his warm, wet mouth close over the tuft of flesh he’d so expertly teased with his fingers. Appalled, she bucked and tried to push him away, but he was a solid wall of strong, determined male. He drew on her there and lightly flicked her with the tip of his tongue until she forgot why she’d been so bent on making him stop.
Soon she was quivering, her breath coming in shallow bursts, her body once again helplessly responding to every teasing pass. When he’d brought her to the edge again, he gentled the strokes, soothing her throbbing flesh until she quieted. Then he took her to the edge again.
When he finally allowed her to climax, he rode her out, rubbing her lightly throughout the first wave, then teasing her to arousal again before the orgasm completely expended itself. She peaked again—and then again.
Carly was spent when he finally rose over her. She didn’t think she could move if he stuck her with a pin. She realized that he’d shed his jeans. She blinked and tried to focus. He was a glorious blur of moon-kissed bronze, his shoulders and arms bunching with strength. She felt his shaft, hard yet silken, nudge at her opening, and she tensed, expecting to feel pain again.
“Don’t tighten up, sweetheart. I swear to God, I won’t hurt you.”
He dipped his head to kiss her, and while their lips were joined, he inched into her. Carly gasped and clutched at his shoulders, shocked by the feeling. He was barely inside, and already she felt his hardness stretching her flesh. It didn’t really hurt, though.
“You don’t fit.”
He laughed tautly. “Oh, I’ll fit. Trust me. I just don’t want to hurt you.” He pushed a little deeper. “If you feel so much as a twinge, just say so, and I’ll stop.”
“Okay.” The instant she spoke, he pressed farther in.
Watching her face for a reaction, he smiled and eased deeper. When she still said nothing, he seated himself with one smooth thrust.
Carly was afraid to move. The feeling of fullness was alarming. Hank, however, had no such compunction. He drew back and gently thrust forward again. The sensation that exploded inside her was startling and incredible, and she dug her nails into his shoulders.
“Hurt?” he asked as he gently executed a second thrust.
Carly could scarcely believe it didn’t. “No,” she said with a shaky laugh.
He increased the tempo, his thrusts gaining force. Mindless. Carly gloried in the power of him, running her hands over his roped arms, testing the dips and hollows of his back, curling her fingers over the ridged pads of muscle on his buttocks. Then the sensations took over. She wrapped her legs around his hips to meet him, slowly learning the rhythm so she could move with him. It was the loveliest experience she’d ever had in her life.
He slipped an arm under her shoulders and drew her against him. “Come with me,” he whispered. “I’ll take you to paradise.”
With that whispered invitation, he increased his speed with powerful surges of his hips. She gasped at the fiery spurts of sensation that streamed through her. She hadn’t believed anything could feel better than what she’d already experienced.
Paradise. He’d promised her paradise. She could now testify with absolute conviction that Hank Coulter was a man of his word.
At the break of dawn, Carly awakened to find herself wrapped in Hank’s strong arms. It was the loveliest feeling to have his big, warm body curled around her. She touched her fingertips to the dark, springy hair on his chest, explored his flat, penny-sized nipples, cupped her hand to a hard pad of breast muscle, and wished. Wished that he’d wake up. Wished that he’d tease her nipples with his hot, silky mouth—and then leisurely devour her.
He cracked open one blue eye. His firm mouth immediately tipped into a devastating grin. “You lookin’ for trouble, lady?”
Carly nodded.
He chuckled and opened both eyes to regard her with some surprise. “Where’d my shy little angel get off to?”
“She’s seen the error of her ways.” Carly pushed at his shoulder to put him flat on his back. Then she straddled his thighs. “It was excruciatingly boring, being an angel.” She leaned back to look at his body, admiring the hard planes and padded contours as she trailed her fingertips over his striated belly to the thatch of dark hair nested around his manhood. “You’re so pretty.”
His eyes darkened with desire as he moved his gaze over her. “Do you realize you’re stark-naked and sitting, bold as can be, in a stream of sunlight?”
Carly glanced down. Then she grinned. “That’s a visual concept.”
“Meaning?” he asked, his voice grating with desire.
“What’s naked, exactly? Until last night, I’d never seen naked except in a mirror.”
“Does that mean you could greet me at the door in an apron, spike heels, and nothing else without feeling self-conscious?”
“Spike heels? I’d break an ankle. Will you settle for low-heeled pumps?”
He came up off the bed so swiftly that Carly was caught in the circle of his arm, flipped onto her back, and pinned before she could even squeak in surprise. “You’ll cook me dinner, wearing nothing but an apron?”
“If you want.”
He bent to nibble her breasts. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Carly was halfway there herself. Her insides curled and tingled with every pull of his mouth. She tucked in her chin to watch. When he caught her at it, his eyes danced with mischief. “Making memories, Carly Jane?”
She nodded. “I want to remember all of it. Everything about you.”
He reared back to lightly run a hand from her chest to her thighs. “Sunlight has never touched anything so beautiful as you. Nothing.”
After making that heartfelt proclamation, he set himself to the task of giving her a treasure trove of visuals to store away in her mind.
Chapter Nineteen
All too soon to suit Carly, the trip to Portland was behind them, and the week of sight-seeing was over. True to his word, Hank had shown her zebras, giraffes, camels, monkeys, apes, tigers, and lions, and she’d seen some beautiful scenery as well, including Mount Hood, the Columbia Gorge, and Mount St. Helen’s. She was glad of every memory because the news she’d received from the specialist wasn’t good. The lattice dystrophy had gained a strong foothold in her already diseased corneas and was now cracking and hardening their surface at an alarming rate. Merrick couldn’t predict how long it would be before she went blind, but without his saying a word, Carly knew it would happen soon.
She refused to feel depressed about it. Hank had filled her mind with so many beautiful memories. She hugged those close for comfort, knowing they’d be with her in the darkness, images in full color that not even the lattice could steal from her.
On Tuesday night, July 15, when they returned to the ranch, Carly expected Hank to hotfoot it to the stable. He’d been gone for a week, and she knew he had work to do. Instead, he returned to the cabin shortly after leaving, his arms laden with black boxes and dangling cords.
“Stereo. Had it in my room at the main house. May as well enjoy it here.”
After setting it up, he put on a CD, caught Carly in his arms, and proceeded to waltz her around the house. When she grew dizzy from swirling, she laughed and said, “Don’t you have something else to do?”
“Nothing as important as this.”
He stopped dancing to kiss her. As always, the kiss ignited them both, and soon they were moving toward the bedroom, dropping articles of clothing as they went. Once on the bed, he pleasured her with his hands and mouth until she thought she could bear it no longer.
“Hank?” she whispered. “Please.”
He nibbled on the sensitive skin under her ear. “No mercy,” he breathed. “I’m going to tease you until you beg me for it, and then I’ll make you climax so many times you can’t move, can’t think—until you just lie there, all mine from the tips of your toes to the top of your hea
He followed through on the promise, expertly using his talents to push her to the very edge, only to soothe her throbbing flesh at the last second and bring her back down. It was heavenly torture, and soon Carly’s body was quivering with frantic need, the urges within her molten and primal.
“Please, please, please,” she sobbed.
With a low rumble of masculine satisfaction, he gave her release, only to tease her back to a fever pitch again and then draw on her until she pitched in the throes of orgasm, every muscle in her body beset with spasms of delight.
Much later, Carly couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and was entirely his. Only then did he come to her—and take her with him to paradise once more.
“Wake up, gorgeous.”
Carly groaned and drew the blankets over her head. “What time is it?”
“Seven. The day’s wasting.” Hank jerked the covers off of her, playfully swatted her bare fanny, and said, “If you aren’t up in two seconds flat, I’ll stick you under a cold shower. I want to take you shopping.”
All Carly wanted was to sleep. “I don’t get up until eight.”
She squeaked when he scooped her up in his arms. “I warned you.”
She clung to his neck, laughing sleepily. “Don’t you dare put me in a cold shower. I’m wicked when I get even.”
He carried her to the bathroom, set her on her feet, and bent to adjust the water temperature. “How’s about a warm one then?”
“Shopping for what?” She rubbed under her eyes. “I hate to shop.”
“Baby stuff.” He turned on the shower and dipped his dark head to kiss her, the glide of his mouth sweet and slow. “I want you to see everything. Little pajamas, T-shirts, blankets, a cradle, and a crib. Interested yet?”
“Do we have the money?”
“Money, money, money. Your needle’s stuck in a groove.” He grasped her elbow and steered her into the tub. She gasped when the warm water struck her body. He jerked the curtain closed. Then, just as quickly, he partly opened it again. “On second thought, can I watch?”