Read Online The Borrowed Bride by Susan Wiggs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Wiggs
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said no, he would back off. He had made that promise to her the first time he had kissed her, and he knew he would still honor it now.
When she spoke, it was a breathy whisper. “Yes.” And nothing more.
But it was all he needed.
Hand in hand, they walked into the darkened lodge and up the stairs to her room. She had been here only two days, but already her presence was strong in the soft, soapy fragrance that hung in the air, in the overturned paperback book she had left on the bedside table, the shoes she immediately kicked off.
He knew there were things he should say to her, things he should ask her, but talking distracted him from the way he wanted to touch her. He stood behind her and took off the leather jacket she wore, letting it slither to the floor beside the bed. He bent and brushed aside her hair and kissed the tender flesh at the nape of her neck.
A soft sigh slipped from her, and she tilted her head to one side. His lips trailed across her heated skin, tongue flicking out to touch her earlobe, hands moving to her waist to release the front buttons of her knit top. He freed her of the shirt and slid his hands up over her breasts. He slid her skirt down and watched her step out of it. He ran his open-palmed hands up and down the length of her, feeling the contours of her body as if forthe first time. She had not changed; she was still petite and slender and soft. So utterly feminine that she made him feel large and clumsy.
She gasped, reaching up and back with her arms and winding them around his neck to bring his mouth down. He turned her and kissed her then, and she brushed against him with an intimate, suggestive movement. She slipped out of her lacy underthings while he undressed, and neither felt awkward, for it was an inevitability that had been waiting for them for years, lying dormant and unacknowledged in their hearts until this searing instant.
They lay back on the bed, cool sheets and billowy eiderdown sighing beneath the weight of their bodies. Dan braced himself up on one elbow and let his caresses ripple down the length of her while he gazed into her face. She wore a slumberous look, moist lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed. Her hands reached for him; then her palms drifted down his sides to his hips. He had to set his jaw and squeeze his eyes shut to regain control.
Not until this moment did he realize the power she had over him. He bent his head and kissed her, drinking from her lips, his hands circling her breasts and then dipping lower, parting her thighs, finding her so ready for him that he could hold off no longer. He moved over her, their mouths still joined. Wanting her pleasure even more than he wanted his own, he lifted his head and waited, muscles straining, for some sign from her. She stared up at him, her shadowed expression unreadable.
“You’re not…” he said through clenched teeth, “making this easy.”
“Am I supposed to?” she whispered. But there wasa smile in her voice, and her hands drifted down and clasped and guided him, and they were suddenly together as if they had never been apart.
He found a rhythm they both remembered, a dance of the heart that had endured despite the passage of time. She lifted and tilted herself, as giving as the earth in springtime, and her dulcet acceptance filled him and brought him such a shattering pleasure that he saw stars. When a soft cry slipped from her and she arched upward, he knew the reunion was complete, knew that neither of them would ever be the same.
Still their silence persisted, and it was a comfortable stillness, an abatement of worry. Neither spoke; they did not have to. Nor did they want to. That would mean entering the world again, entering reality, facing up to the unresolved matters that hung over them.
Dan gathered her close and made love to her again, slowly this time, lingering over every part of her as if getting reacquainted with an old friend. She gave herself to him with a sigh of surrender. He
When she spoke, it was a breathy whisper. “Yes.” And nothing more.
But it was all he needed.
Hand in hand, they walked into the darkened lodge and up the stairs to her room. She had been here only two days, but already her presence was strong in the soft, soapy fragrance that hung in the air, in the overturned paperback book she had left on the bedside table, the shoes she immediately kicked off.
He knew there were things he should say to her, things he should ask her, but talking distracted him from the way he wanted to touch her. He stood behind her and took off the leather jacket she wore, letting it slither to the floor beside the bed. He bent and brushed aside her hair and kissed the tender flesh at the nape of her neck.
A soft sigh slipped from her, and she tilted her head to one side. His lips trailed across her heated skin, tongue flicking out to touch her earlobe, hands moving to her waist to release the front buttons of her knit top. He freed her of the shirt and slid his hands up over her breasts. He slid her skirt down and watched her step out of it. He ran his open-palmed hands up and down the length of her, feeling the contours of her body as if forthe first time. She had not changed; she was still petite and slender and soft. So utterly feminine that she made him feel large and clumsy.
She gasped, reaching up and back with her arms and winding them around his neck to bring his mouth down. He turned her and kissed her then, and she brushed against him with an intimate, suggestive movement. She slipped out of her lacy underthings while he undressed, and neither felt awkward, for it was an inevitability that had been waiting for them for years, lying dormant and unacknowledged in their hearts until this searing instant.
They lay back on the bed, cool sheets and billowy eiderdown sighing beneath the weight of their bodies. Dan braced himself up on one elbow and let his caresses ripple down the length of her while he gazed into her face. She wore a slumberous look, moist lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed. Her hands reached for him; then her palms drifted down his sides to his hips. He had to set his jaw and squeeze his eyes shut to regain control.
Not until this moment did he realize the power she had over him. He bent his head and kissed her, drinking from her lips, his hands circling her breasts and then dipping lower, parting her thighs, finding her so ready for him that he could hold off no longer. He moved over her, their mouths still joined. Wanting her pleasure even more than he wanted his own, he lifted his head and waited, muscles straining, for some sign from her. She stared up at him, her shadowed expression unreadable.
“You’re not…” he said through clenched teeth, “making this easy.”
“Am I supposed to?” she whispered. But there wasa smile in her voice, and her hands drifted down and clasped and guided him, and they were suddenly together as if they had never been apart.
He found a rhythm they both remembered, a dance of the heart that had endured despite the passage of time. She lifted and tilted herself, as giving as the earth in springtime, and her dulcet acceptance filled him and brought him such a shattering pleasure that he saw stars. When a soft cry slipped from her and she arched upward, he knew the reunion was complete, knew that neither of them would ever be the same.
Still their silence persisted, and it was a comfortable stillness, an abatement of worry. Neither spoke; they did not have to. Nor did they want to. That would mean entering the world again, entering reality, facing up to the unresolved matters that hung over them.
Dan gathered her close and made love to her again, slowly this time, lingering over every part of her as if getting reacquainted with an old friend. She gave herself to him with a sigh of surrender. He
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