Anew: Book Two: Hunted by Josie Litton Page B

you,” he murmurs. “More than you can know.”
    “Not true. I’ve longed for you every waking moment and at
night…” A quickening of remembered pleasure stirs in me. Helplessly, I flush.
    “Amelia?” His voice is at once stern and amused.
    Reluctantly, I say, “I had dreams…”
    “About me?”
    “Hmmm, yes.”
    His humor deepens but so does the dark fire stirring in his
eyes. “Were they arousing?”
    “Yes…”
    He quirks a brow. “Did you come?”
    I look away, my face flaming. Given all that we’ve shared, I
can’t imagine why I’m embarrassed but I am all the same. “Sometimes! All right?
Can we move on?”
    His answer is to thrust against me, making me vividly aware
of his erection brushing my hip. His voice is low and hard as he says, “You’ve
been in my dreams. I’ve cursed every dawn that’s taken me from you.”
    Oh, my! When did Ian develop such a romantic turn of phrase?
I’m far more accustomed to the stark, crude words he whispers in my ear as he
thrusts deep inside me. They never fail to send me soaring over the edge. But
I’m no more immune to this new, tender passion.
    My throat thickens with unshed tears. “What are we going to
do?” I whisper. I don’t mean just now. How are we ever going to reconcile the
seeming impossibility of being together? And what if we can’t?
    I don’t think that Ian deliberately chooses to misunderstand
me but he isn’t willing to be distracted by so problematic a future.
    “This,” he says and takes my mouth with his. His kiss is a
wild, primal claiming that robs me of breath and sets my heart to pounding. He
gives no quarter, nor do I want any. But with my arms still held above my head,
I can’t touch him. The frustration quickly becomes unbearable. I lift a leg,
kicking it free of my long skirt, and arch it over his hip. He grunts and slips
a hand under my knee, drawing me tight against him. The smooth fabric of his
evening trousers can scarcely contain his erection. I arch my pelvis, rubbing
my slit over the hard, growing bulge. The pressure through the thin scrap of my
wet panties is exquisite. I am desperate to be closer to him, needing him to
complete me, longing…
    He breaks off the kiss and stares down at me, his gaze wild
and raw. I feel as though he is stripping me bare. “I’d like to make you come
right here, right now,” he says. His hips thrust, once, again… “You’re close,
aren’t you?”
    I can’t deny it. All the pent-up desire of the past ten days
is rushing together into a hot, urgent core of sensual hunger whirling at the
center of my being. I’m trembling on the edge, an incandescent nova on the very
verge of exploding.
    The shadows around the ancient tree protect us. We’re alone
in a world of our own making. My need for him is unbearable. But still
something holds me back.
    “That won’t solve anything.”
    The words are wrenched from me. My own body rebels against
them, clenching painfully. But the truth is inescapable. The passion we share
has never been in doubt. It’s the results of it that we both fear.
    Ian hesitates and for a moment, I think he isn’t going to
relent. But then a ragged breath escapes him. He rests his forehead against
mine.
    “What do you think would?”
    He’s asking me? The one with almost no experience in the
messy, bewildering, sometimes frightening but still exhilarating struggle
called life?
    “I don’t know…just being together? Taking things moment to
moment? Is that even possible? Do people ever manage that?”
    I have no way of knowing but Ian seems to think that the
idea has merit. He takes a step back, gently lowering me until I’m once again
standing on my own two feet. Slowly, he releases my arms and draws them down as
well. Holding my gaze, he says, “Let’s try, all right? If nothing else, we can
see where it leads us.”
    Moment to moment. Each one allowed to unfold without the
rush and clamor of expectations. What a difference that would make after