Night Moves by Thea Devine Page A

knew, he knew.
    All she had to do was surrender to his kisses, to his hands, and let him submerge her in his power and his passion.
    She was drowning already. And practically naked, with her silk and gauze outfit drifting across the seat beside her. He moved subtly so as not to break the kiss, baring his soul, enshrouding his desire, and then he surged against her, hot for her and seeking her in the most elemental way.
    She just wanted to lie against the pure raw power of him, to feel his length, his heat, against her body. She wanted to touch him, play with him, fit herself around him.
    All of those emotions and more swirled in her as she wedged her body against the ridge of his gorgeous erection.
She remembered this—oh, how she remembered this. He was unforgettable, as long and hard in his maleness as he was in body and souL
    She wanted Truck. He had been everything she’d wanted back then—and strong, decisive and good looking besides.
    What she hadn’t known then was how she could have him and everything else too. So she had said no. No, she had said to his kisses and his coaxing. No, at that one shimmering moment when he’d been primed for possession and she’d been ready, needy, wanting. No, no, and no, she had said, and for five years afterward she had lived with the pain, the remorse, the sorrow, and worse, the regret of not knowing what it would have been like to have Truck make love to her.
    This time, she wouldn’t say no.
    This time...
    This time it was he who shifted her body, guiding her surely and elegantly with those knowing hands, and giving himself into her control, her desire and her hands for the moment of penetration.
    She grasped him firmly with a sure knowledge of what he still loved, what he still wanted, and what her touch would do to him. She held every last hard pulsating inch of him in her hands and inches away from heaven.
    â€œCarrie...” His voice was strangled.
    â€œI know.” She cradled him between her hands, sliding them up and down the shaft, feeling every nuance of him. “I know,” she whispered as she positioned him and as she took him inch by throbbing inch deep and hard into her body.
    The connection was breathtaking and powerful She felt as if she were permanently joined to him as she
braced herself against his thighs. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to speak.
    â€œCarrie...”
    She made a helpless little sound at the back of her throat.
    He had to be strong for both of them. She was so tight and hot and ready for him, and all he could do was grasp her hands and pull her forward so he could kiss her. He tasted tears on her vulnerable mouth. He tasted regret, need and desire and everything he’d ever wanted to know about her.
    â€œCome for me, Carrie,” he murmured against her lips. He surged against her, anchoring himself even more deeply in her. “Come...”
    She didn’t want to move. She wanted him within her forever, and she was shaken to the core by these feelings. This wasn’t the simple coupling of a one-night stand. This was something deeper, much more serious, and she felt as if she couldn’t bear for it to end.
    But he could only contain himself for so long. Even he, with his infinite patience and devastating control, had a breaking point, and he was almost there. But then she moved, just a ripple of her body, and it told him everything. She was ready now, and he undulated against her, finding her center and seeking her mouth in a kiss that exploded into heat and urgency.
    He gripped her hips then, initiating a rhythmic movement that he met with short hard pumping thrusts into her slick sleek body, aiming perfectly at her sensual soul.
    And that pleasure point became her world, and the heat and wet of his kisses, and the scent of the leather, and the sultry evening air. All of that seeped into her pores, enfolding her in the universe of his body, his hunger, his sex.

    She felt