Read Online Snowflakes on the Sea by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online

entwined in his thick hair, her breath coming in tearing gasps, Mallory reveled in his hunger, in the warm strength of the hands holding her knees apart, so that she could not close herself to him. As his tongue began to savor her in long strokes, Mallory shuddered and gasped a plea and loosed her fingers from his hair to again spread the veiled place for his full satisfaction and her own.
    Tremors, both physical and spiritual, rocked Mallory’s entire being as he brought her to a release so savage that she sobbed out his name. Quivering with molten aftershocks, she was too stricken to speak again, or even move.
    “I love you,” he breathed against the moist smoothness of her inner thigh.
    Finally, after at least a partial recovery of her senses, Mallory met his eyes. She did not need to speak to relay her message; she wanted to be filled with him, to sheathe him in the rippling, velvety warmth of her and hear his familiar, rasping cries of need and violent, soul-searing satisfaction.
    Understanding, his eyes dark with a wanting to match Mallory’s own, Nathan moved back a foot or so, still kneeling on the floor, and moaned as his wife slid from the sofa’s edge to face him. He trembled, closed his eyes and tilted his head back as she opened his slacks to reveal his straining manhood. For the next several minutes, Mallory enjoyed his magnificence at her leisure, with her eyes, her fingers, her mouth. Her spirit soared at his words of tormented surrender.
    In a smooth motion born of passion and desperation, Nathan grasped Mallory’s slender waist, lifted her easily and then lowered her onto the pulsing pillar that would make them each a part of the other.
    They moved with a rhythm as old as time, increasing their pace as the swelling crescendo building within both of them demanded. When the explosion came, it rocked them, and they shouted their triumph in one voice.
    They were still one person, still shuddering with their fierce mingling, when Cinnamon began to bark in the kitchen and they heard the back door open with a cautious creak. “Nathan!” called Eric Moore, the lead guitarist in Nathan’s band. “Hey, Nate—I know you’re in here somewhere! Mallory?”
    Nathan cursed and scrambled to his feet. He was fully dressed again before Mallory had managed to wriggle back into the discarded football jersey.
    “Stay where you are, Eric!” Nathan ordered in ominous tones as he strode out of the glittering, cluttered living room without so much as a backward glance. “And next time, knock, will you?”
    Still sitting on the floor, Mallory cowered against the front of the sofa, trembling with resentment and a wild, inexplicable loneliness. The conversation taking place in the kitchen was couched in terse undertones, and she understood none of it. She sighed. Understanding the exact situation wasn’t really necessary anyway. The fact was that, once again, Nathan’s dynamic, demanding life was pulling him in another direction.
    Mallory was thoroughly annoyed. She had been planning to give up her role in the soap opera in order to devote more time to a marriage she knew was failing. And all her efforts would mean nothing if Nathan could not or would not meet her halfway.
    She stood up slowly, feeling hollow and broken inside. Was Diane really the threat she appeared to be sometimes, or was Nathan’s career his real mistress?
    Mallory stooped to recover the toy kangaroo that had been one of Nathan’s gifts to her and then held it close. She could hold her own against a flesh-and-blood woman any time. But how could she compete with thousands of them? How could she hope to prevail against the tidal wave of adoration lavished upon Nathan McKendrick every time he sang his soul-wrenching compositions?
    Still clutching the stuffed kangaroo, she sank to the sofa in dejected thought. Obviously the physical passion between her and her husband was as formidable as ever. Still, Mallory knew that a lasting marriage required more