The Forever Dream (25 page)

"I'm glad you think so," she said, rubbing them back and forth across his hair-roughened chest like a sinuous little cat. "I like yours also." She leaned forward to nibble at a tiny male nipple. "It's very satisfactory that we're so different there, isn't it?"

"Very satisfactory," he said in a strangled voice. Her hair smelled faintly of wild flowers and was silky soft as it brushed against his chest. Oh, Lord, he didn't want to lose control and reach out for her. "We have several other satisfactory differences as well."

"I've noticed." One small hand reached out to brush the most prominent of those differences with a teasing gesture that caused his hips to jerk forward in explosive reaction. "Do you like me to touch you there, Jared?”

"Yes, I like it," he said thickly. "I like your hands on me, I like your lips on me, and I'm absolutely insane about what your tongue does to me. I'd like to spend the next hundred years or so just letting you perfect your technique with all three. Would you like that, too, little Piper?"

"It would take much less time than that," she scoffed, grinning at him impishly. "I learn very quickly Jared." She was finding that teasing Jared was very exciting. It was completely different from the frustrating enticement she'd meted out as punishment during their dual of wills. Knowing the pleasure she was going to give him made these anticipatory moves like a pas de deux that preceded the explosive finale. She could feel the tension in him like a dark, dangerous current, and that river of strength was even more thrilling because it was leashed. She hadn't realized until now how much she'd hated being sexually dominated by Jared when she'd been under the influence of the paradynoline. It was comforting to know that she had a certain amount of power also in this most intimate of conflicts. "Would you like to see how quickly I learn?" Her legs parted and then closed upon him, capturing him between her thighs. He felt so warm, so hard, so right against the sensitive center of her womanhood that she felt a surge of explosive heat rise within her that was dizzying in its intensity. She abruptly forgot all about conflicts and power struggles as she clutched desperately at his shoulders. "Jared ..."

The rest was lost as his lips closed over hers in a savage hunger that he quickly softened into an equally urgent sweetness. He hoped to hell she was ready, because he didn't think he could wait much longer. God, he loved the taste of her. His tongue explored the smoothness of her teeth, the side of her cheek, savored the texture of her tongue, in a kiss that ravished and entreated in one. He could feel her thighs tighten around him, and he gave a low groan that was almost a gasp. The erotic feeling of flesh against flesh was too close a parody to the real thing for his self-control, and he moved away from her with a wrench that caused the muscles of his stomach to knot painfully. "The step you just took was more of a quantum leap," he said huskily, his chest moving rapidly from the harshness of his breathing. His hand moved between her thighs in an exploring caress that caused her to stiffen with an electric shock of pleasure. He smiled with relief as he felt the welcome evidence of her arousal, but he had to be sure. She was so tiny, and even if there was no barrier, her virginity would doubtless cause her to be tighter than any woman he'd ever had. He'd better take more time to be sure she experienced no pain at all. Just the thought of her in pain filled him with an aching empathy greater than any he'd ever known. "Why don't you just rest on your laurels now and let me help?"

Her nails bit into his shoulders as one of his hands slid around to cup her buttocks while the other began a rhythmic thrusting that caused her to arch against him with a little guttural cry of need. He paid no attention, his fingers delving and rotating with a skill that was causing lightning flashes of sensation to pour through every vein. There was a frown of intense concentration on his face, and she could hear the painful rasp of his labored breathing. She could feel his hunger like an invisible force, and it fed her own desire until she was moving against his hands and pressing against him with an urgent rhythm of her own.

He closed his eyes, his face flushed and heavy.

"Would you like me inside you?" he asked thickly. "Do J you want me to fill you with every bit of me? I want to 1 invade you and make you mine, little Piper. Would you J like that too?"

"Yes." Her affirmation was more like a moan as another finger was added to the rhythmic sorcery he was performing on her body. "Oh, yes."

He pushed her gently on her back and moved over her, parting her thighs and slipping swiftly between them. It was all done with such skill and deftness that before she knew it she was lying looking up at him bewilderedly in the most vulnerable position known to woman.

It brought her a sudden shock of uneasiness that must have been reflected on her face, for his eyes suddenly narrowed. "What's the matter?" he asked quickly, his hands moving caressingly on the softness of her belly. "What's wrong, love?"

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't know," she whispered. "I feel so . . . helpless."

He seemed to understand at once. "It's only an illusion," he said quietly. "You're not being dominated, Tania." His hands were gently preparing her once more, easing the tenseness. "It's only that it will be easier for you this way." He moved closer. "There's no reason for you to worry about domination or conflict, because there isn't going to be any." She felt the warm hardness of him begin to enter her. "No one is going to lead and no one is going to follow. We're traveling along this road together." He was pushing gently, carefully, his face taut with pleasure and self-restraint, until suddenly she was surrounding all of him in an unbelievable closeness. "All the way."

His breath expelled sharply in a little burst of relief. Oh, Lord, she had taken all of him, and there was no sign of pain or discomfort on her face. There was only glazed pleasure and a childlike wonder. Her breasts were moving as she breathed in little pants, her eyes wide and dark in her flushed face, her lips parted in a delicious invitation that he couldn't resist.

He bent forward to take her lips, content for the moment to just fill her, to be joined to her in this incredible tightness. His tongue entered to move and probe with a freedom he would not yet allow his body.

Her fingers curled in the hair at his nape to bring his head closer. The double impalement was unbelievably erotic, and unconsciously she suddenly thrust her hips upward to take more of this blinding sensual pleasure. The movement brought a molten sensation that caused her eyes to widen and a little gasp to break from her.

He tore his lips from hers. "No," he whispered urgently. "It'll hurt you. Let me do it." His lips brushed her cheek in a kiss so beautifully tender that it made her throat tighten. "I couldn't bear to hurt you, sweetheart."

"You aren't hurting me," she said. "You feel wonderful. I just want more." Her lips rose to cover his with loving sweetness. "Please give me more, Jared."

He felt something inside him explode into a million shimmering pieces that he wasn't sure could ever be put together again. He wanted to give her everything, every part of his heart and soul, his memories, all of his future, but the only thing he could offer her in this moment of poignant intensity was his body.

"I will, Tania," he said, his voice a throaty murmur. "Whatever you want, sweetheart." He started to move with painstaking care, but the silken friction was a provocation that couldn't be denied, and his thrusts gradually escalated to a fiery intensity, until they were both riding the tide of feeling, moving with frantic urgency, reaching for that ravishing beauty.

And it was beauty, she thought, a beauty so strange and all-encompassing that everything else faded in comparison. It was like the wind chimes, whose music tantalized and satisfied at the same time, whose silver-and-crystal loveliness could be pristine or reveal a rainbow spectrum of brilliance. The music was surrounding her, enfolding her. The rainbow was setting her on fire with sensation while still wrapping her in the bands of loving protection.

Then Jared was garlanding all the branches of her spirit with rainbows, as he had decked the forest of white birches, and the song of the wind chimes echoed in every corner of her heart and body.

Jared's finger was gently stroking the dark wing of her brow, his other arm cradling her close in an embrace that was lovingly possessive. "What are you thinking about?" he asked lazily.

What could she answer? she wondered. Her thoughts were so confused and fragmented that her usual mental incisiveness was a mere phantom. I'm thinking I've never known a human being so passionate and loving, that you've just left me and I want you to come into me again, that you've touched me on a thousand different levels that I never knew existed. How could she tell him that, when they'd agreed a short time before that there were to be no promises, no commitments. "Wind chimes," she said softly. "I'm thinking about wind chimes."

He chuckled, his arm bringing her still closer, his hand tucking her head in the hollow of his shoulder. "That seems to be something of an obsession with you. I thought I'd given you enough of them in reality to keep them from claiming your daydreams as well."

She nestled closer, her fingers tangling in the thatch of hair on his chest. "You did. You gave me all the wind chimes I ever wanted, Jared." Wind chimes of beauty, of healing, of passion. "I thank you with all my heart."

A look of swift concern replaced the amazement on 's face at the slight break in her voice. "Hey!" he protested, tilting her face up so that he could search her expression. "They were supposed to make you happy, not cause you to cry."

"I'm not crying," she denied quickly. "I never cry." Her dark eyes were suspiciously bright and her dignity very fragilely balanced.

"Forgive me," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I'd forgotten what a wonder woman you are. You couldn't possibly shed a tear. "You have
e
à
b
, right?"

"Right," she assured him. She'd never admit how lose she'd come to weeping all over him or how grateful ' e felt that he'd let her retain her control in this when he'd lost all semblance of it in any other area. "It's perfectly natural that I should be grateful to you, but I haven't cried since I was a very little girl."

He didn't ask what had brought her to tears then or hat traumatic experience had made her build that fierce wall of reserve. There were surely a hundred answers, and he wanted her only to forget that pain now. It hurt him even to think about it. Strange how this bond of empathy was growing between them. Strange and quite possibly very dangerous. But he wouldn't think of that now. It was worth any risk to feel this golden completion and know that she was drawing closer to him, edging like a cautious little bird ever nearer to the warmth he wanted to give her. "You're very welcome, sweetheart," he said gravely. "The wind chimes were my pleasure."

She suddenly burst into laughter, and when he gazed at her, puzzled, she laughed again. "You use that phrase so often, but this time you're wrong, Jared," she said, her dark eyes dancing. "They were my pleasure." Her lips caressed the flesh beneath his shoulder blade. "And I think I'd like to hear them again now."

"Now?" he asked blankly.

She chuckled. "Now," she said firmly. Then, as he continued to stare bemusedly at her, she pulled his head down for a kiss of heated sweetness that was an explanation all its own. "Never mind," she whispered. "I'll tell you all about it later."

And she set herself to the delightful task of weaving a glittering new garland of rainbows around her wind chimes.

Chapter 11

She woke, as she always did, when the first gray morning light began to filter through the French windows. It was a lovely, hazy light, she thought sleepily, making the room seem unreal. There was nothing the least unreal, however, about the arm that was a heavy band about her waist or the feel of the naked chest against her back. Jared's embrace was endearingly protective . . . secure.

Protective. The thought caused her lids to flick open in sudden wariness. She had no need for protection. She certainly wouldn't invite protection, so why was she lying here in his arms as complacently as a well-fed kitten? It was indicative of how far she'd come into Jared's sphere of power that it felt the supremely natural place to be.

She slipped from beneath his arm and began to inch quietly and carefully away from him. She was off the bed in one lithe movement. He was sleeping deeply, his breathing regular, and he didn't stir as she glided toward the chair where she'd draped the ermine cloak. She mustn't give in to the impulse prompting her to stay in that bed with Jared. The experience she'd known last night had been so beautifully moving it could well be

addictive, and she couldn't afford a passion as consuming as this one promised to be. It would weaken her, make her vulnerable in ways that she'd never tolerate.

Already she felt that some small part of her personality had flown out of her to merge in a mysterious alchemy with that of Jared Ryker. The trust she'd felt for him was too fledgling, this emotion too explosive for her to embrace without reservations. She must move very slowly.

The wariness couldn't stop the sudden melting warmth she knew as she paused a moment beside the bed before leaving die bedroom. The misty gray light softened the harsh, powerful planes of Jared's face, and sleep had removed the hard edge of cynicism. He looked almost boyish lying there with his hair rumpled and the piercing silver of his eyes masked by his closed lids.

But he wasn't boyish, she reminded herself as she turned and walked quietly toward the door. He was mature, totally in control, and perhaps the strongest man she'd ever met. Even his lovemaking had reflected that control. In the heights of passion, when she'd been as mindless and weak as a puppet, he'd been able to subdue his own rocketing emotions and guide them both to ecstatic completion. She'd been grateful for that control at the time, but now it filled her with a nagging anxiety. It was a weapon she didn't possess and made her doubly vulnerable to him.