Read Online Nightingale by Cathy Maxwell - Free Book Online Page A

vanity.”
    â€œAnd a good one it is. More precious than gold.” He slid his hand up her arm to her neck and brought her down to kiss him. She tasted sweet and willing. He bent his knees and entered her in one smooth push.
    She tightened around him. Their kiss broke.
    â€œSit up,” he ordered softly.
    Jemma did as he asked, impaling herself on him, and he thought he could die from the pleasure of being in her this deep.
    â€œDane—?” Her voice sounded husky and dark, uncertain.
    â€œTrust me.”
    She swallowed and then nodded. He felt her movement all the way to the core of her. Using his hips, he thrust up, and knees tightened around him. And again, Dane heard himself laugh with pleasure.
    She smiled in agreement, a goddess in her glory. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she loved him. He didn’t. Instead, he began rhythmically moving. She found following his movements awkward at first. Her hands fluttered as if she wasn’t certain what to do with them. He placed them on his chest, one of her palms flat over his heart, and drove himself deeper.
    T here was part of Jemma that feared such unbridled wantonness. And another part, a newly discovered part, that hedonistically wallowed in it.
    The need for release built inside of her, and she wasn’t alone. Beneath her, Dane’s face reflected a wide range of emotion. There was tenderness and hunger, urgency and desire.
    He placed his hands on her waist and showed her how to move the way he liked. His breathing grew heavier. His soft words of praise and encouragement drove her in a way she’d never known before. His pleasure became hers.
    Disappointments evaporated. Regrets faded from memory. All that mattered was this moment as together they strove, searching for the same pinnacle. Satisfaction lay within their grasp. Anything was possible. Anything.
    Dane lunged up from the bed, taking her in his arms. “Jemma,” he breathed. “Dear God, Jemma.” She could feel the force of life leaving him. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close, and found her own release.
    This time, it was even better than before.
    She closed her eyes, her arms around him, and let her body savor every blessed, spiraling sensation. Dane too seemed lost in the intensity of their coupling.
    For long, long moments, they held each other—and then he began laughing, quietly at first, and then full-throated, the sound joyful. His jaw was whiskery rough against her skin. “That was good, so damn good.”
    He took her face in his hands. His sharp eyes studied her, his thumbs lightly rubbing the corners of her mouth. She wondered what he was thinking.
    â€œIt’s never been like that before,” he said.
    â€œNo,” she agreed. She’d never known how completely involving it could be. But then her woman’s intuition told her it was not this way with every man. Only with Dane.
    The words I love you were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them back.
    They would sound trite now. Later, when their passions had cooled, maybe then she would have the courage to speak them.
    And maybe he would believe them.
    â€œAh, Jemma,” he said, as if he could read her mind. He put his arms around her waist. They sat facing each other, her legs still around his hips.
    â€œDane—” she started but stopped, words failing her. Instead, she placed her palm on his chest. His pulse had returned to normal. Gently, she kissed him.
    He leaned his head against hers. “I know,” he agreed. “I’m frightened, too.”
    His admission caught her off guard. She raised her gaze to his, but he shook his head. “Tomorrow, Jemma. Tonight, let’s not ruin what we have.”
    His words were like a shot through her heart. She feared they did not bode well—and yet she was afraid to either challenge him or to reveal her own heart.
    â€œCome,” he said quietly. “It’s time to