The Forever Dream by Iris Johansen

heart. It leaped with a very satisfying response. She chuckled. Then, feeling extraordinarily mischievous, she let her hand swoop down to curve around his tumescence. An expression of shock accompanied the little jerk he gave in her small hand, and her dark eyes danced. "Ryker," she said triumphantly.
    "I think the sedation must be wearing off a little," he said, making a wry face. "Which may present an entirely new batch of problems." He gently pried her hand away. "God, how I love to hear you laugh." Two fingers traced the smile that still lingered on her lips. "I'm happy as hell that part of you is back with me, at least."
    What was he talking about? He was speaking as if she were in never-never land, when she felt more alive now than she ever had in her life. Perhaps too alive, she thought dizzily as a wave of molten heat assaulted her senses. Her throat felt suddenly dry, and she shook her head as if to clear it. "I fee—"
    He drew her into his arms. "I know," he said, his tone gentle despite the thread of desperation running through it. "God, I hope you can go to sleep after this. I'm not used to this particular kind of torture, love." He bent her backward, so that she was once more reclining against the pillows. His voice was a velvet growl. "Come along, little Piper. Let's see you dance to the music of my flute."
    He was beside her on the satin sheet, his lips covering hers with a passionate urgency that caused her instantly to open to him. At first with yearning submission and then more active aggression, her tongue was suddenly exploring his mouth and finding it as exciting as he had found hers. Moist warmth, the clean smoothness of his teeth, and that lovely skilled tongue that promptly
    engaged the invader in a sensual minuet caused her to arch against him with a little breathless moan.
    He lifted his head, and a teasing smile lit his face. "Oh, no," he said huskily. "Much as I'd like to linger awhile, I have other gardens to explore. I want to know all of you, Tania Orlinov."
    Then his lips were moving over her taut midriff and down to the softness of her belly. The breath seemed to rush out of her body as she felt the warm moistness of his tongue stroke delicately at her navel while his hands moved in a rhythmic massage over the silky skin just below. He gently spread her thighs, one leg coming between her own. The fine hairs that coated his hard, muscular leg felt deliciously abrasive against the softness of her inner thighs, but the position was so submissive, so vulnerable, that she instinctively tried to close them against him.
    His eyes were half shut, their glitter almost molten, as he lifted his head to gaze down at her. "Don't close me out, love." His fingers started a rhythmic stroking that sent a soaring response to every nerve in her body. Her hands reached out blindly to close on his shoulders.
    She could hear his harsh, labored breath above her, but she was so lost in the haze of desire he was weaving about her that she was scarcely conscious of anything but the feeling within her. "Lord, it's almost worth it just to watch you and know that I can make you respond like this." His fingers suddenly rotated with a skill that caused her to jerk against him. His voice was oddly husky. "You're so damn beautiful." Then the broad hard line of his cheek was against the softness of her belly and he was rubbing it back and forth with slow, sensual pleasure. "So soft and sweet." His tongue darted out to stroke lazily. "You taste like all the good things on the face of the earth." His hands slowly curved around to cup her buttocks in the strong warmth of his hands. "Do the flowers in your garden taste as luscious, little Piper?" Then his hands were lifting her and he was discovering for himself.
    She couldn't believe it. No sensation could be that intense. His tongue and lips worked with heated skill, until she was clutching at the dark silkiness of his head in an agony of need. Her body was being honed to a