Page 93 of Texas Honor

He bent to her mouth, kissing it with soft reverence. “No more fears?”

She shook her head. “How could I ever be afraid, after...that?”

“Because I won’t always be that tender,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes quiet and narrow. “Eventually, I’ll want you to match my own passion. I’ll want something a little wilder and hotter than tonight. This time was expressly for you. I loved it—don’t get me wrong. But it isn’t what I like.”

She colored. “What do you like?”

He searched her eyes. “After we’re married, I’ll show you.”

She felt a little apprehensive then. Would he be demanding? Cruel? Would he want to hurt her?

“Damn it,” he snapped, glaring. “Not like...that! For God’s sake, I’m talking about lovemaking, not torture!”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know very little about it.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, too. I’m so damned hungry!” He turned her, ignoring the twinge of pain in his arm, and jerked her over him so that she was facing him in his lap, her hips pressed blatantly against his. “Feel me,” he said in a rough whisper.

Her lips parted. “I don’t mind—”

“Well, I do.” He lifted her away and got to his feet, bristling with masculine frustration as he jerked up his clothing.

Maggie watched him as she slipped into her own things, admiring the fluid grace of his body as he dressed with deft, sure motions.

“You’re very good to look at,” she said absently.

“I’m in a temper,” he grumbled. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Why? What will you do?” she teased softly, smiling.

He glared at her. “Do you really want to know?” He leaned down, his shirt unbuttoned, and put his hands on either side of her. With his hair tumbling over his forehead, his mouth swollen, his eyes narrowed, he was so sensuous that she wanted to reach up and kiss that hard mouth senseless.

“Yes,” she challenged.

“I’ll throw you on the carpet,” he whispered with mock fury, “where I’ll strip you and ravish you until you scream for help.”

“Ravish me how?” she whispered back, her lips parted. “Show me.”

His breath caught in his throat. She had potential. There was passion in her. It had been crushed out, but he could revive it. He could make her burn for him. He knew he could.

He bent and rubbed his open mouth against hers in a rough, inciting caress. “Like that,” he murmured. “And this.” His tongue teased around her lips, probing in quick thrusts until she lifted toward him with a tiny moan.

But he drew back, smiling rakishly. “Next time,” he said, watching her, “We’ll have to have a radio beside us, to drown you out. You’re noisy.”

“If I am, it’s your fault,” she shot back, and laughed. Her hair was in a tangle, her makeup gone, but she was still a dish. “You did all those shocking things to me.”

“Were they shocking?” he asked curiously.

She lowered her eyes to his broad, sexy chest. “I felt pleasure. That was shocking,” she corrected. “I loved it. Every second of it. I didn’t think women were supposed to really enjoy it.”

“My God, he was a basket case, wasn’t he?” he asked curtly.

“Emotionally, I guess he was. And is. I feel halfway sorry for his wife.” She looked up. “He’ll hate the idea of Becky being here. He’ll fight it with every dirty trick he can find. He was always jealous of you, even though there had never been anything between us. My parents adored you. They were always talking about you.”

He smiled. “I liked them, too. Let me worry about your animal of an ex-husband.” He pulled her to her feet and held her close to his lean, relaxed body. “You just worry about me.”

She slid her arms around his neck. “I want to make love to you,” she said with unexpected passion, searching his eyes. “I want to give you as much pleasure as you gave me.”

“You did,” he said, stunned. “Didn’t you know?”