Chapter 39.1

Nor would he let her dismiss him as just another man. God only knew how many lovers she'd had but he was all fired up to be the one who lingered longest in her memory, the one she'd want more than any other.

She was still wearing the sheer black pantihose that had drawn his attention to the shapeliness of her legs. He leaned one knee on the bed, hooked his thumbs under the waistband and rolled the garment down, slowly easing it over her hips.

She lifted herself slightly to allow it free passage past the sexy cheeks of her bottom. He smiled at the natural triangle of red-gold pubic hair, glad it hadn't been subjected to a bikini or Brazilian wax. The fiery arrow, pointing to the apex of her silky thighs, was much more exciting.

He caressed the erotic curves of her legs as he removed the black nylon, her feet, her toes, and there was certainly nothing brotherly about what he did. The slight twitches and gasps from Megan told him the prolonged sensuality was getting to her. He wanted to weave such an enthralling web of it she'd be totally captivated, aware of only him and how he was touching her, making love to her.

He trailed kisses up and down her inner thighs, revelling in the revealing quiver of her flesh under his lips as he moved her legs apart. He caressed the soft folds of her sex, feeling the moist heat that telegraphed her readiness for him. Not yet, he told himself, fighting the urge to take, to sate his own almost bursting need for her.

He grazed his mouth over the erotic little hollows under her hipbones while inciting her need to a higher pitch with his hand, his thumb gently rubbing her clitoris, fingers circling, diving inside her, working a teasing rhythm as he pressed hot kisses over her stomach. And her body arched up to him, inviting, inciting.

But he wanted her wild for him.

He ran his tongue around the tips of her breasts and she broke into chaotic movement, hands clawing at his back, urging an upward surge. Excitement flooded through him but he denied her demand to hurry the pace, surrounding the taut thrust of her nipple with his mouth, drawing on it, reinforcing the rhythmic caress he'd maintained, building an arc of throbbing pleasure.

She grabbed his head, fingers tugging his hair. He moved to her other breast, determined on having her whole body acutely aware of him, craving and wallowing in every nuance of sensation he could give her. Her body thrashed from side to side in a chaotic offering that drove him to almost frenzied action. Impossible to hold out much longer.

He drew himself up, hovered over her, his eyes seeking affirmation of all he felt in hers. Shards of silver were fiercely shot at him. Her legs curled around his thighs, convulsively pressing. Her hands linked around his neck, trying to pull him down to her. She was panting with the primitive passion he had stirred.

Whether it was pride or possessiveness or some dark streak of male domination driving him, Johnny didn't know, but the powerful need to stamp himself in her mind overrode everything else.

'Say my name,' he commanded, resisting the compelling pressure to perform at her instigation. 'Say it!'

'Johnny…' It burst from her as though her mind was filled to overflowing with it.

His heart leapt in exultation. He positioned himself to enter her, pausing to feel the pulsing welcome of her inner muscles closing around him, sucking him in.

'Again,' he insisted.

'Johnny…' It was an anguished plea.

He picked up her fluttering hands and slammed them above her head as he drove himself deeply into the sweet hot cavern of her innermost self. He lay on the soft cushion of her breasts, his face directly above hers. He wanted eye contact but her lids were shut, her mouth open, dragging in quick shallow breaths.

'Look at me!' he commanded.

The lashes flew up. Her eyes seemed unfocussed, inwardly concentrated, but they swam back to seeing him squarely.

'Know me as you feel me, Megan,' he said more softly, and kissed her, wanting to engage her in a sense of total intimacy with him, with the Johnny Ellis she had scorned for so long but was now accepting with all her being.

Megan was swamped with tidal wave after tidal wave of incredible sensation. The unrelenting swell of it had crashed through any inhibitions she might have had long before Johnny had finally plunged into this ultimate joining with her. Now she simply rode with it, incapable of doing anything else, marvelling at the exquisite peaks of pleasure, the ripple effect through her entire body, the almost torturous tension of anticipating more and more, the ecstatic feeling of letting herself go, melting around him.

In the hazy recesses of a mind drowning in intense feeling, there lurked the exhilarating satisfaction that this was, indeed, Johnny Ellis making love to her. And if she'd been waiting her whole life for this, it was worth the waiting. She didn't question why he'd demanded she say his name. Her thought processes were far too adrift for questioning anything. She'd wanted to say it, anyway, wanted to taste it, savour it, shout it, identifying and claiming him as the only man who had ever moved her this deeply.

As for knowing him…it was knowledge she had craved, knowledge she was now exulting in, knowledge she would hug to herself forever. It was awesome, fantastic, the glorious sense of rolling from one climax to another, pinnacles of creamy pleasure, then finally the faster pumping of his need, spilling into wild spasms of release, Johnny letting go, surrendering control to her as his powerful body shuddered into relaxation, accepting her readily loving embrace.

Conscious of his weight on her, he rolled onto his side, but he didn't disentangle himself from her. She stroked him, adoring his strength, wanting to touch as she hadn't dared touch before. It dawned on her how passive she had been while he did…everything!

Absorbing the feelings he'd aroused had stunned her into a weird submission, as though she was in a time and place where only what he was doing to her had any reality

—an immediate and overwhelming reality that compelled intense concentration.

Only now did she realise she hadn't made any effort to pleasure him. Hadn't even thought of it. Was he satisfied with how it had been? Would he want more of her when he hadn't been given any active demonstration of desire from her?

She hadn't exactly been a log, but… 'Content?' he asked.

It sounded as though he'd been working hard to give her satisfaction and wanted to be assured of it.

'Are you?' she tossed back, worried about not matching up to his previous sexual partners.

He shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, smoothing her hair away from her face with his other hand, eyeing her with brooding frustration. 'What is it with you, Megan? You can't concede a straight answer?'

Aware that she was being defensive again, she tried a rueful smile. 'Sorry, Johnny. You're a fantastic lover. Thank you for being so…so giving.'

He returned her smile. 'Then you do feel content?' 'How could I not? You've completely rocked me with a truly brilliant experience,' she said flippantly, wary of placing too much weight on what could very well be a one-night stand.