Annie's Song (42 page)

“Once the baby comes, your body will return to its former shape,” he assured her. “Until then, honey, trust me when I say that I think you’re beautiful. Big tummy, inside-out bellybutton, and all.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “There’s not a single thing about you I’d change. Except maybe to see you smile.”

She fixed him with an incredulous gaze, clearly unconvinced.

“You are absolutely perfect,” he assured her.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head again. Alex released her and stepped back. “Show me one

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thing about you that’s not perfect,” he challenged.

She started to hug herself again, but he forestalled her by catching her wrists and drawing her arms back down to her sides. Then, his throat aching with love for her, he made a great show of stepping around her to examine her from all angles. As he came full circle and faced her again, he rested his hands on his hips, settled his gaze on her flushed face, and said, with complete honesty, “You are, without question, the sweetest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She placed a hand over her swollen stomach, her gaze skittering from his. Alex leaned around so they were nose to nose again. “Line up forty skinny women, give me a choice, and I’d pick you every time.”

She sniffed and swiped at her chin to catch a tear before it fell. Alex was more interested in catching another tear that had already fallen and was now making a glistening trail over her breast to her nipple.

“I mean that, Annie, love.” The dark shadows in her eyes made him wish with all his heart that he were more silver-tongued. “I want you, and only you, just the way you are right now.”

She made a small sound, low in her throat.

He held out a hand to her. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She stared down at his palm for several long seconds. Then she finally crossed it with her delicate fingers. Alex couldn’t speak, and even if he’d been able to, he doubted he could express the emotions that rolled through him. Tugging her toward him, he enfolded her in his arms. For a long while, he simply held her, instinctively knowing that she needed time to grow accustomed to the closeness, that she needed to know he wanted more from her than just the physical.

And he did ... So very much more.

When he felt her begin to relax a little, he drew back and slid up a hand to cup her breast. As his fingertips grazed her silken skin, she gave a little squeak and caught her breath. Lightly, ever so gently, he dragged his thumb over her nipple, which was still slightly damp from her tears. Her aureoles were swollen and an even deeper color of pink than he’d judged them to be earlier. He suspected they were tender and extremely sensitive as well.

Drawing her back into his arms, he hugged her close and pressed his face against the silken slope of her shoulder. In a voice that shook with emotions he couldn’t separate or define, he whispered, “Dear Lord, you are so incredibly precious.” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but for the moment, his usual feeling of frustration gave way to vague relief. He could scarcely think, holding her like this, let alone guard his every word. In making love to a deaf girl, there were advantages as well as drawbacks, he realized.

“God, how I want you. It’s probably a blessing you have no idea how much.”

She nuzzled close, bringing a reluctant smile to his mouth, for he knew damned well she’d be making for the door if she could hear him. Turning his head, he traced the shape of her ear with his lips, then caught her lobe in his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. At the titillation, she gave a low moan. “Ah, you like that, do you?” He ran his mouth down the curve of her neck, nibbling lightly at her skin. “It’s a damned good thing because I’m going to love every inch of you just that way.” He closed his eyes as his mouth covered the pulsebeat at the hollow of her throat. “Ah, Annie, love ...”

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When her head fell back, he pressed his mouth to hers. She made a soft, mewling sound, her sweet breath spilling against his lips. He thrust his tongue deeply into her moistness, then withdrew, emulating the rhythm of love-making, imagining how it would feel to bury himself inside her. The muscles in his thighs knotted as he slid his hands over her, glorying in her softness, in the velvety texture of her skin.

Molding his cupped palms to her pliable buttocks, he drew her hips closer. At the contact, she stiffened and jerked her mouth from his.

Alex lifted his head, sliding a hand from her rump to her back to steady her and hold her, just in case she got frantic. By her expression and the flutter of pulse he saw in the hollow of her throat, he knew she was remembering that day at the falls. He didn’t suppose he could blame her for that.

The enormity of what he was about to do struck him. One wrong move, one wrong word ... “I won’t hurt you, Annie, girl. I promise.’’

Her frightened gaze clung to his. Alex looked into those eyes and felt as if he were drowning. He swallowed, the sound echoing through his head, testimony to his nervousness. He wanted to make this beautiful for her. He wanted to erase every bad memory from her mind and replace them with glorious ones.

Bending slightly, he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. After gently lowering her to the mattress, he stripped off his shirt and kicked off his boots. She tugged at the corner of the rumpled coverlet, drawing it over her lower body. Alex smiled and braced a knee next to her hip. Settling a hand on either side of her, he leaned down to kiss her eyes closed. Then he traced her features with his lips, lightly, ever so slowly. He wanted her to feel cherished, for he did cherish her, feeling as if God had sent him an angel. She made soft, pleased little sounds and smiled.

Alex smiled as well, for he noticed that she was still clutching the coverlet for dear life over her lower body. Against her closed eyelids, he whispered, “Make tight little fists and don’t turn loose. It’ll suit me just fine to have your hands occupied elsewhere.” He trailed his mouth along her sculpted cheekbone, down to her lips, then to her throat. “By the time I’m finished with you, you aren’t going to care where that coverlet is, I promise you that.”

Moving lower, he licked lightly at her skin, drawing closer and closer to the peak of one breast. Her aureole, swollen and throbbing with her every heartbeat, felt like velvet when he drew it into his mouth.

At the first drag of his tongue, her muscles jerked, and she made fists in his hair as though to push him away. Alex realized she was even more sensitive than he’d guessed and gentled his ministrations, using light flicks of his tongue to coax her tender flesh to a pebbled hardness. When he judged her ready, he drew sharply on her. She gasped and arched against him, her throat convulsing on shrill whimpers of need. Her breath became quick and shallow as he flicked her with his tongue.

This time, Alex didn’t mind if she gave a passionate outcry. The door was locked, and all the servants, including Maddy, slept in another wing. She could shriek all she liked. He not only didn’t mind, but felt sure he’d find the sounds arousing. Capturing the throbbing nubbin of flesh at the crest of her nipple between his teeth, he gave it a roll. She immediately started to pant. Shrill, desperate little panting sounds that worked on his senses like a powerful aphrodisiac. Quickly, so as not to allow her time to resurface, he switched his attention to her other breast and gave it the same treatment.

When she finally grabbed hold of his ears, he knew he had succeeded in his initial goal. She was so aroused, he doubted she could think clearly, let alone feel afraid. Then and only then did he slip a hand under the coverlet.

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To Alex’s surprise, she parted her thighs, welcoming the touch of his hand. Cautiously, he sought the sweet center of her, smiling when she moaned with pleasure. Like shavings drawn to a magnet, his fingertips homed in on the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. Gently, carefully, he parted the silken folds. White-hot. Slick with wetness. At the invasion of his touch, she bucked her hips and released her hold on his ears to raise up on her elbows. With his chest, he rode her back down to the bed. His face hovering scant inches from hers, he held her frightened gaze.

“Annie, trust me,” he whispered huskily. “Will you do that? Just for a few minutes. Then, if you want me to stop, I will. I promise.”

Her delicate brows drew together. But in the end, she nodded her assent.

Taut with tension, Alex found her sensitive feminine flesh. With light strokes, he teased her to arousal, watching the subtle changes in her expression. Pleasing her was his one concern. Annie came first. With him, she would always come first.

She never so much as blinked when he drew the coverlet off her. Never a man to pass up an opportunity, Alex took full advantage of her preoccupation. Bringing his mouth into play, he launched a gentle but relentless sensual attack to take possession of her sweetness.

With the first flick of his tongue against her sensitive nerve endings, she shrieked. With the second, she groaned low in her throat. With the third, she made tight little fists in the bottom sheet, dug her heels into the mattress, and arched her hips to better accommodate him. Her shrill pants and throaty little moans were the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard.

“Oh, yes, Annie, girl,” he whispered raggedly. “Give yourself to me.”

“Aaa-aah!” She arched higher, offering him what he sought, her breathing quick and shallow.

“Aaa-aah— aah!”

Alex caught her tortured flesh between his teeth and began a slow, firm rotation with his tongue. She caught handfuls of his hair and pressed upward, clearly aroused beyond thought. Quickening his rhythm, he brought her to her first climax, marveling at how responsive and uninhibited she was.

When she finally lay spent and trembling, Alex drew away only long enough to shed his trousers. Then he positioned himself between her thighs and grasped her hips, nudging her open with the head of his shaft. She raised her lashes and gazed up at him with a dazed little smile, her eyes still dark with desire.

Quickly, not giving her time to realize what he meant to do, he thrust smoothly into her.

Alex saw her eyes go wide with startlement. Then, for several seconds, he was aware of nothing but the sensation of being inside her. She was ready for him, hot and slick with desire, the walls of her womb snug around his shaft and still pulsating from orgasm. It took all his self-control not to spend himself, right then and there.

But before he could, her small face swam back into focus, and he was reminded that it was Annie’s pleasure he needed to be concerned with, not his own. Taking care not to crush her with his weight, he suspended himself on his arms and managed to flash her a slow grin, withdrawing slightly, then driving deep. She gasped and made fists in the sheet again. Rejoicing in her response, Alex slowly picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder, intending to deny himself completion until he made certain she reached hers.

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The tension slowly building, Alex leveled out to a rhythmic thrust, withdrawing, then driving himself deeply into her, ever aware of her expressions so he wouldn’t hurt her. He needn’t have worried. With the artless abandon that had captivated him from the beginning, Annie arched her neck, whimpered with pleasure, and wrapped her slender legs around his hips so she might undulate and intensify the impact.

The need within Alex became an unbearable ache.

The best laid plans ... Despite his determination to maintain control, when she cried out and quickened around him, the need inside him exploded into a mind-numbing pleasure that was like nothing he’d ever experienced or even imagined could exist.

Annie ... Her breathless, panting little cries told Alex she was going to climax with him. Then the walls of her womb suddenly spasmed. Red flashed inside his head. Unable to see, no longer capable of thought, he surrendered to the need and plummeted into a swirl of sensation with her.

Annie... Fire and blackness. In some distant part of his mind, Alex was aware of her shrill cries of release. Then, completely drained of both energy and strength, he plummeted with her into the blackness of oblivion.

Annie drifted back to reality as though from a dream, becoming aware of her surroundings measure by measure, registering first the flicker of amber light, then the weave of the sheet beneath her, the heat of Alex’s body pressed against hers, the heat of his breath against her hair, the weight of his arm over her waist. She blinked and drifted, feeling completely at peace and happier than she could recall ever being.

Alex. She lay with her back to his chest, her bottom fitted snugly into the crook of his body, his thighs, coarse with hair, pressed firmly against the backs of hers. Taking a deep breath, she absorbed the scents of him—faint traces of soap and cologne, tangy leather, the male muskiness of his skin. Against her shoulder blades, she felt his heart thudding, the beat strong and even. It felt absolutely right to lie there, cradled against him, her body limp, her thoughts muddled.