The Cutting Edge by Linda Howard Page B

knees wobbled and lost their ability to hold her upright. Just as swiftly, he swung her up in his arms and took the few steps to the closest chair, settling into it with her draped over his lap. Tessa opened her love-drugged eyes, the green depths deep and dreamy as she looked at him. Her hands wound around his strong neck. “I’ve tried not to love you,” she whispered achingly, unable to hold her love secret, “but I can’t stop myself.”
    A strong shudder rolled through him at her words. It didn’t matter how many other men had heard the words of love from her luscious mouth. It didn’t even matter that he’d never wanted a woman to love him. He’d always been coolly indifferent to any feelings of devotion he might have aroused…until Tessa. She was a challenge like none he’d encountered before. It wasn’t the resistance she’d put up against him, because she really hadn’t resisted him at all. Rather, she’d eluded him, letting him glimpse her womanly richness, then flitting away out of reach. She was so intensely female that he instinctively wanted her; she was a woman who could match the fierceness of his masculinity. In loving him, she gave herself to him, and he wasn’t inclined to let her go free again.
    His left arm under her back, he arched her up to meet the hungry possession of his mouth, while with his freehand he began opening the line of tiny buttons that marched down the front of her dress. Tessa trembled in his grasp, but didn’t protest. She didn’t want him to stop; she wanted him to love her like this forever. She’d learned that there was a time for giving and a time for taking. This was her time to give. She’d give all of herself to the man she loved, freely, with all the loving generosity of her nature. Her heart was slamming against her rib cage so violently that she felt dizzy, and in an effort to get more air she turned her head away from his kiss, exposing the tender, elegant line of her throat to him. He explored it with his hot mouth, and Tessa made a little whimpering sound. She wanted him; she needed him so much that she ached deep inside, and she clutched at him with desperate fingers.
    â€œSlow down, slow down,” he murmured, easing the dress off her shoulders. “I want this to last a long time. Let’s get this off you, so I can see you; I want to strip you naked and touch you all over.”
    She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and lay back into the cradle of his arm, letting him look his fill at the way her breasts pushed at the thin silky fabric of the white camisole she wore. She hadn’t worn a bra, so the dark pink nubs of her hardened nipples were clearly outlined, the small tips begging for his attention. His breath came harder and faster as he lifted her up and tugged the dress down around her hips, then pushed it down her legs and off. She lay on his lap, and his eyes burned her flesh as they moved slowly over her body. Besides the camisole, her only garments were her matching tap pants, a delicate lace garter belt, silk hosiery and her fragile high-heeled sandals. His hand drifted over herbody, learning the contours of her, stroking her silk-clad legs until he reached her ankles. Slowly he removed her shoes and let them drop; then his fingers trailed back up her legs. He fingered the elastic of her garters, and a look of almost brutal desire hardened his face.
    â€œYou should be put under lock and key,” he said gutturally, never taking his eyes from the path his hand traveled. His fingers curled under the waistband of her tap pants and he pulled them down, revealing the soft little hollow of her navel. He circled it with a gentle finger, then the as-yet uncovered riches of her body lured him on, and his hand moved upward to her breasts. He fondled her, his hand burning her flesh. Tessa twisted on his lap, wanting him to push the camisole away and touch her bare