Nan Ryan (37 page)

But not with fear.

His lean fingers clutching her silky golden hair, Kurt gently urged Helen’s head back, looked into her eyes, and said, “Helen, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes?” she tried to stop the quivering of her lips. Couldn’t.

Kurt’s green-eyed gaze settled on her soft trembling lips. “Kiss me,” he said, his dark head slowly bending to her. “Kiss me just this once.”

His lips closed over hers and in an instant her soft trembling mouth answered the eager pressure of his own. Helen’s tense, shaking body went limp against him and she kissed him with such surprising feeling, Kurt felt his knees buckle. Meaning to taste the honeyed sweetness of her lips for only a fleeting moment, he instinctively deepened the kiss.

While the roar of the crashing surf competed with the roar of the blood beating in his ears, Kurt softly groaned and pulled Helen even closer, crushing her slender body to his, urging her lips to part more fully beneath his own. Eager, willing, Helen’s mouth anxiously opened wider. His teeth clashed with hers, their breaths mixed. Kurt thrust his tongue into the warm wetness of her mouth and shuddered when she met it with her own.

Hotly, hungrily they kissed, straining against each other, unable to get close enough. Pent-up passions too long denied erupted with a force which matched that of the storm. Kissing greedily, anxiously, as if they would never be allowed to kiss again, they gradually sank to their knees there on the parlor floor. Their mouths fused; their legs too weak to support them, they knelt together on the velvet plush rug, clinging to each other, kissing amorously in the flickering candlelight.

Outside the massive, mighty hurricane roared angrily onto shore and was pounding the cliffs just below the house. Great towering walls of wind-driven water surged up out of the boiling bay and lashed the land with deadly, devastating force. Winds strong enough to uproot big trees and completely blow buildings away rattled the boarded windows. Great sheets of torrential rain and hailstones hammered violently at the house’s peaked roof, as well as the garden, the orchard, and the fields where the carefully planted crops were ripening.

Helen and Kurt never noticed.

Neither was distracted by the storm’s fierce fury. Lost in each other, they kept kissing, each kiss growing longer, hotter, more desperate. Until finally kissing was no longer enough. As the powerful storm intensified and the howling winds escalated and tree branches struck loudly against the house, Helen breathlessly tore her lips from Kurt’s. She laid her head on his supporting shoulder, no longer trembling with fear but with passion.

His lips in her hair, Kurt felt the hot sweat of desire run down his chest. His heart pounded violently, every fierce beat sending heated blood surging through his veins. His heaving breath choked off in his throat when Helen’s soft hand lifted and she began unceremoniously unbuttoning his shirt. Her flushed cheek resting on his shoulder, she deftly undid the buttons all the way down his sweat-slick torso.

Then her head came up off his shoulder. She pulled back a little and looked at him. Unmistakable desire flashed in the depths of her beautiful blue eyes. Kurt tensed expectantly when she pushed the open shirt apart. He shuddered when she lowered her kiss-swollen lips to the flesh she had bared and boldly kissed his hot, wet chest.

“God … baby, baby,” he murmured, cupping her golden head in his hands, feeling as if his thudding heart would surely explode.

He whispered her name as she scattered kisses over the broad expanse of his chest and Kurt thought he must surely be in a dream. A hot, sweet dream. Here he was, kneeling in a candlelit parlor with this beautiful woman kissing his chest while outside a violent storm threatened to end both their lives. His eyes on the golden head bent to him, he knew that if he were going to die, he’d die a happy man.

When Helen raised her head, Kurt quickly kissed her again, tasting the salt of his own body on her soft dewy mouth. When their lips separated, he held her in place with fingers curled loosely around the back of her neck. His other hand moved directly to the buttons going down the center of her dress. He flipped the top one through its dainty buttonhole, then paused for a second, waiting for her to object.

She didn’t.

And so, looking directly into her glowing eyes, Kurt swiftly unbuttoned the bodice down to her waist. As she had done, he pushed the opened dress apart.

The camisole she wore was plain white cotton, no lace, no frills, save for the ribbon tied into a small bow at the center top. Holding her gaze, Kurt tugged at one end of the bow. It came undone. One-handed he unfastened the camisole’s tiny hooks, then gently, slowly pushed the open undergarment apart.

His breath became labored and shallow. Helen felt the heat of his eyes on her flesh and her bare breasts swelled under the intense scrutiny. She tensed expectantly when his dark head slowly lowered to her. A soft little whimper escaped her lips when his mouth touched the swell of her left breast directly below her collarbone. She shivered in sweet anticipation as his lips brushed sensuously back and forth. When his mouth opened and he pressed a fiery kiss to her warm tingling flesh, Helen’s hands came up to tangle in the thick raven hair of his head.

Exhaling excitedly, she urged his dark face downward over the curve of her breast and at the same time she rose more fully to her knees.

“Kurt … oh, Kurt,” she breathed, eyes closing, as his lips warmly enclosed an erect nipple.

She felt the flick of his tongue against that diamondhard point of sheer sensation and threw back her head in sweet ecstasy. A tiny sob broke from her throat as he drew her more deeply into his mouth and sucked on the throbbing nipple for a long thrilling moment.

“Helen, sweet Helen,” he murmured against her burning flesh, brushed one last adoring caress to the under curve of her breast, lifted his head and kissed her waiting mouth.

In that long searing kiss was all his yearning, all his passion, all his love. It was answered in kind and when their burning lips finally broke apart, they wordlessly began undressing each other. Anxiously they stripped away damp clinging clothes from their hot shiny bodies. In seconds both were as bare as the day they were born.

Naked in the candlelight, they kissed once more, their hands exploring slippery flesh, their hearts racing wildly with unleashed passion. Kneeling on the velvet plush rug in the middle of the parlor they held each other close, Helen’s slender arms twining around Kurt’s neck, playing over his muscular shoulders, down his smooth clefted back. Her aching breasts flattening against the solid wall of his chest, she felt his awesome erection throbbing hotly against her bare belly.

Kurt wished that he could wait a long patient time, but knew he couldn’t. He was so hot for this beautiful golden-haired woman, he felt he was literally on fire. Anxiously pressing her closer, he ran his hands freely over her back, her hips, the twin mounds of her pale buttocks. He kissed her, praying he wouldn’t explode in a premature climax from simply holding her naked in his arms.

In danger of doing just that, Kurt put a stiffened arm out and lowered them to the softness of the plush rug as they kissed. They stretched out on the floor in the firelight, facing each other. Kurt felt the trembling of Helen’s bare warm body as her passions swiftly rose to match his own. His mouth covering hers, his tongue searched for and found violent answer, a lustful licking, sucking response that made him shudder all the way down to the soles of his bare brown feet.

There was no time to be the proficient, artful lover she deserved. He could not control his raw response to the clinging mouth, the tempting nakedness pressed so intimately against him. He couldn’t wait and slowly woo her to sweet ecstasy as his heart would have him do.

His blazing body overruled.

But Helen was just as eager, just as ready as he. The reaction of her bare sensitive flesh to the hot hard touch of his was quick, savage, electric. The raging heat he ignited could be denied no longer. She wanted him, all of him. And she wanted him now.

In their shared hunger they came together after an economy of preliminaries. Helen eagerly stretched out on her back, with her arms, her body, and her soul laid open to Kurt. Looming just above, Kurt lay beside her, his weight supported on an elbow. His hand swept down over her flat stomach and to the triangle of golden curls between her pale thighs. He looked directly into her luminous eyes as his fingers raked through the angel curls, then slipped between to the sensitive slick feminine flesh. He found her burning hot and wet to his touch.

He spent only a few seconds caressing her. He dipped his forefinger into the silky wetness flowing from her and spread it over her burning flesh, readying her to comfortably accept him. Then he stroked and circled that tiny nubbin of ultrasensitive flesh and watched the changing expression on Helen’s lovely face.

The shadowy candlelight could not conceal from him the look of exquisite agony that immediately claimed her. Her body surged up to meet his stroking fingers and her eyes fluttered restlessly and closed. Her lips parted and she drew a shallow, ragged breath, then moaned with mounting pleasure. Kurt soon withdrew his hand, urged her legs farther apart, and lithely moved between.

Helen’s eyes came open and she looked into his. She felt his throbbing need pressed against the fiery spot where his fingers had touched her. He moved more fully into position and she felt the large swollen tip enter her. Her hands clasping his muscled forearms, her hips tipped upward to meet his first swift, deep thrusting.

Outside the storm raged.

Deadly destructive winds flogged Mobile Bay’s eastern shore. Strong squalls of wind-driven rain pummeled the shingled roof and the walls of the house quaked under the hurricane’s angry force.

But the writhing golden-haired woman being loved on the plush parlor rug never noticed. She was far too lost in the force of her dark lover’s engulfing passion.
He
was the storm.
He
was the power. No longer afraid, Helen was swept into the powerful, pleasurable storm of Kurt’s savagely sensual lovemaking.

Their sliding, slippery bodies came together fiercely, as if each had been starved for the other for a long painful time. Theirs was an urgent, primitive coupling. Wildly exciting and wonderful. Helen was buffeted helplessly about by the incredible physical joy Kurt was bringing her. His mouth was marvelous, his body was beautiful, and he knew how to use both to give pleasure. Her passion-glazed eyes caressing his dark handsome face, his powerful shoulders, she pressed her hands against the small of his back, urging him closer, deeper, longing to hold him to her—inside her—forever.

His own desire blazing out of control, Kurt made love to Helen with an untamed fury that matched that of the strong storm raking the shore. Pounding with deep driving strokes, he bent his head and spread fiery kisses over her flushed face and delicate shoulders and swollen breasts. Helen was just as wild, just as unbridled in her awakened ardor. Her pelvis lifted to meet every plunging thrust, every total immersion of his hard male flesh in her. She bucked savagely and ground her hips and gripped him tightly. She raked her nails over his shoulders and back. She licked his throat and nipped at his chest with sharp white teeth.

As the firelight bathed their rocking, reaching bodies, they climbed those last few golden steps toward total paradise.

“Kurt, oh … Kurt,” Helen breathed, the heat building, spreading, pushing her dangerously close to the top. Her eyes wide, she clutched at his slick biceps and whispered, “I can’t stop … Kurt … I want—” Her scream could be heard above the storm.

“Yes, sweetheart, yes,” Kurt urged hoarsely, loudly, his own apex dangerously close. “Let it go, I’ve got you. Come with me now. That’s it … come, baby. Come!”

Helen gave herself up to the waves of exploding heat and overpowering pleasure, crying out when the throbbing fever pulsed and pulsed again, growing stronger and stronger still. The beginning of her violent climax brought on Kurt’s. He held her to him, pumping furiously into her, ushering her toward total fulfillment. Going with her to that wished-for, otherworldly place found only when two naked joined lovers erupt in a blazing explosion of erotic joy.

Outside the winds roared like a mighty freight train.

Lightning flashed down from the blackened sky, splitting ancient oak trees in half. Thunder cracked and rumbled, shaking the very foundation of the old house. Blinding torrential rains and huge hailstones came with such velocity the sound was like bullets peppering the walls.

Helen and Kurt were not aware such a storm existed.

The fury of their own heated lovestorm was breaking over their heads. They were bursting in a deep, shuddering climax. They clung together as the violence of their shared zenith jolted though them, the buffeting waves of pure carnal pleasure radiating outward from that damp, heated place where their shuddering bodies were joined.

When finally it ended and they began floating back to earth, Kurt fell tiredly over onto the floor and drew Helen to his side.

Panting for breath, he smiled contentedly and murmured, “Ah, baby, baby, I love you. I love you, Helen.”

“And I love you,” she gasped, struggling to get her breath back.

Kurt kissed her damp, flushed temple and said, “Jesus, honey, that was good.” She nodded, said nothing. He exhaled loudly and asked finally, “You suppose that storm ever hit?”

Sighing happily, Helen snuggled closer, draped her arm over his hard waist. Grinning, she said, “What storm? I didn’t hear a thing, did you?”

Chapter Forty-one

T
he storm was not yet over.

Outside or in.

Both persisted as the midnight hour came and went.

Outdoors, powerful winds and lashing hail and rain threatened to demolish everything in their path. While indoors, the rhythmic thrusting and bucking threatened to shatter the naked pair mating anxiously on the parlor floor.

Shuddering, panting, Helen was seated astride the reclining Kurt, her hands splayed on his sweat-slippery chest. Her unbound hair spilling loosely around her shoulders, she set the pace this time. She controlled the action. She made love to Kurt.