A Steele for Christmas by Brenda Jackson

couldn’t stop the fire from blazing in his loins when the path his mouth was taking led him straight to the juncture of her thighs. He paused long enough to breathe in her scent and without wasting any more time, he lowered his head between her legs and went straight to her feminine core.
    “Eli…”
    Her husky moan was almost lost on him, the sound quickly smothered by the deep thump in his chest. He went about tasting her with a greed he hadn’t known he had, with a ravenous hunger that was gripping him, pushing him over the edge in such a way he couldn’t help but taste her to his fill.
    And then he felt her body explode beneath his mouth. He felt her thighs tremble and then she screamed his name. His name. And the sound charged the air, entrenched him in something he’d never felt before.
    He quickly moved his mouth away from her to shift his body upward and straddle her. When he was there, settled between her open legs, he studied the look in her eyes, the heated gaze that was staring back at him as she tried getting her breathing under control.
    “Make love to me, Eli,” she whispered in a choppy voice.
    “I plan to.” And he meant it. He intended to ride her hard. She had awakened feelings, stirred them to life, in a way no other woman had before. He needed to get back in control and hoped those lingering fantasies of making love to her—the ones that kept him up at night, that had him going into her store during the day making purchases he didn’t need—would finally be put to rest. He was certain it was curiosity of the unknown that was driving him to act so out of character with a woman. Especially this woman.
    Once his hips were just where he wanted them to be, cradled within her thighs, he glanced down at her again. As their gazes locked he began easing his body into hers. The connection made his entire body tremble.
    She was tight and her inner muscles clamped down on him. Sucking in sharply, he sank farther and farther into her wetness. He gritted his teeth and found even that wasn’t working against the intense sensations erupting inside of him. “Hell.”
    He buried himself into her to the hilt, then he reached out and gripped her hair and began moving, riding her like his very life depended on doing so. Her muscles clamped him tighter as he thrust into her, rocking back and forth and going even deeper still.
    “Eli!”
    Then it happened again for her. He felt the way she exploded, literally came apart beneath him. Her tremors passed through to him, pushing him to increase his thrusts, stroking her into a third climax. And when her hips bucked up at an angle that clenched his shaft, while wrapping those gorgeous legs around him, he knew it would be the closest he’d ever get to heaven. Eli could only accept that together they were taking the art of making love to a whole other level. He loved the feel of being inside of her. It was simply incredible. He felt overwhelmed, overcome in passion so thick that when he grinded his hips against her again, his entire body exploded. He came in one torrential release, riding her in a way he’d never ridden a woman and with the strength and reckless abandon that had his pulse throbbing in his temple.
    “Stacey!”
    He shouted her name and threw his head back as lights seemed to flash before his eyes. A kaleidoscope of radiant colors blinded him, prolonged his orgasm while white-hot heat rushed through him, ripped into his muscles and sank like sharp teeth into every inch of his skin.
    No woman had ever done that to him, threw him into such an intense climax while her muscles continued to clinch him, virtually milk him dry. He felt heaven. He felt like a man on top of the world, on top of the most sensual woman to ever walk on the face of the planet.
    The scent of her was assailing him at every angle and he continued to make love to her with a primitive hunger that wouldn’t let up until he lost control once again, exploding inside of her like he’d