He grew suddenly very still beneath her. “It applies,” he whispered, almost too softly for her to hear, “more than I would have believed possible.”
Joey’s smile faded as she tucked her head under his chin There was no bantering humor in his voice now. “Are you admitting I have power over you, Luke?” The attempt to recapture the lightness was forced. “It’s about time somebody did. After all…”
The utter silence, the way his breath caught and did not release for an alarming span of time, stopped her short. When she sat up again to study his face, it was flat and free of emotion, as harsh and cold as in the days when they had fought so hard to be free of each other.
“Too much power. Too much for either of us.”
The way he said the words, his eyes staring into space at some deeply troubling vision, told her that it was not her statement he was answering. Her fingers tightened involuntarily into claws, scoring his chest. It seemed to get through, abruptly his eyes flickered to hers. “Joelle,” he said hoarsely, and in an instant he was pulling her face to his again, and his tongue was tasting her even as she could feel the stirring of his body between her thighs.
She knew she wanted him again even before the rush of wetness where his arousal touched her confirmed the thought. She moved her legs against him, he slid his hands down her back to press her more deeply into his demanding length. This time he would take and give, she read it in the tautness of his muscles along her body, in the way his lips and tongue possessed her own mouth so fully, tasting her everywhere. Almost before the kiss ended he was pulling her up higher, creating an exquisite friction as their bodies slid skin on skin, his tongue forging a fiery path down her chin and throat. He settled her and held her in place straddling his belly, drew her down to envelop her breasts with the heat of his breath and then his lips.
She was above him, but it was he who now commanded her responses. Her breasts were heavy against his mouth as he teased the nipples one by one, thoroughly, leaving no inch of yielding surface untouched. Joey arched her back and thrust against him with ragged cries. He released her once, looking up between her breasts, compelling her to meet his eyes “Dominance is deceptive, Joelle,” he purred. “Who controls now?” Before she could answer or beg him to continue, he found her aching nipples again and caressed them until she was wild with wanting.
Her body was limp and hot and moist in his arms when he shifted under her, holding her easily above him as he sat up against the headboard, laying her back onto the damp sheets and stroking the slickness of her inner thighs until they parted for him of their own accord. Her eyes snapped open when he bent over to burn her with the tip of his tongue, sipping from the cup of her body as she gasped his name. His touch brought her again and again to the brink, she had forgotten anything so insignificant as half-healed ribs as she caught at his hair, his shoulders, tried to pull him up and into her before she caught fire.
But Luke held back. When she could bear no more and told him so in broken words and gasped phrases, he turned her again—gently, ever so gently, sliding her around to lie alongside him, easing himself down on his side, drawing her back into his chest so that his body cupped hers. It was only then that he ended her torment, gliding in from behind in one long stroke.
It was a more complete possession than anything that had come before, and Joey lost all thought of control—control over Luke or of her own body’s response. She gave herself up to his cadence as one hard-muscled arm cradled her head and the other arched over her side, his hand kneading her breast in time to the motion. She was being rocked against him, carried away on a ride unlike any she had ever known as his touch slid down to where they joined, easing in a slow caress forward and back where the hot core of her body begged most urgently for release.