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Signed, Sealed, Delivered (SYTYCW winner)



It took ages to get to the bedroom. But Adam didn't mind, because the delay was the result of Lane halting him with a touch every step he took - running her hands over his backside, up inside his shirt, across his back, his neck, his chest, into his hair, down his arms ... anywhere she could reach.

It seemed that now she had the green light to touch him, Lane was never going to stop. Every time he moaned, she giggled with delight, and that only made him want her more. They finally made it into the bedroom and she all but threw herself into his arms.

"Stand still," he growled at her when she wriggled against him.

For an instant, she hesitated. But then he added, "I can't undress you if you're dancing around like a jumping bean."

The uncertain look in her eyes vanished. "But I'm going to undress you first," she told him. And then she spoiled her air of assurance by asking, "Can I?" She waited for his permission to proceed, looking up at him in a way that suggested both trust and uncertainty. And Adam wondered who was teaching whom about seduction.

He set his jaw and said, a little grimly, "You can do whatever you want, angel. But for God's sake, be quick."

She wasn't quick.

She slid his shirt off with languorous strokes of her hands. Undid his jeans one button at a slow time, making sure she flicked her fingers against the very large proof of his desire with every button. She moved the jeans sensuously down his legs, hands smoothing along in their wake, making him groan, mid-way, "I think you might know more than I do."

At last, he was naked, every cell in his body straining against the need to throw her down on the bed and dive inside her."My turn," he said, the heavy look in his eyes promising retribution.

A retribution he delivered, kissing her as though he were trying to suck her inside his body, barely breaking the contact to remove her dress for the second time with hands that shook so badly he was thanking God there were no buttons involved. Next, he ran his hands over her panties. "Nice," he breathed against her mouth, and then tugged them down just far enough so that his fingers could dive inside and slide over her.

"Adam, please," she groaned, but he took his time, and when he finally pulled the wisp of lace down, he did it one fraction at a slow time, making sure his fingers brushed against her repeatedly as he did it, so that by the time she was naked she was gripping him hard enough to leave nail dents in his skin and panting with excitement.

Then he held her away from him and looked at her. Slowly, from her head to her toes and back again. "I want you so much," he said. And then he took her in his arms, held her for the longest moment against him, felt her heart thudding wildly against the erratic beating of his own. "Are you ready, sweetheart?"

Lane nodded. "Show me," she breathed.

He took her hand, led her to the bed, lay her gently on the covers.

With a shuddering kind of sigh, he sat beside her on the bed. Slowly, he reached out with one hand, tracing the features of her face. His fingers trembled over one of her cheekbones, then moved up to her forehead, down the centre of her small, straight nose. Lane's own hand reached up to touch his face, mirroring his exploration. When her hand reached his mouth, he sucked her fingers inside.

Immediately, she did the same to him, sucking until he found the erotic pull of her mouth too much ... and yet not enough. He withdrew his fingers, his hand moving to continue his exploration of her body.

He stroked every inch of her. Circling her nipples with his fingers, pinching gently, smoothing, stroking. Trailing his hand over her ribs, down to her navel, her hips. Leaving that one weeping, secret place between her legs until last. "You're beautiful here," he said, at last threading his fingers through the dark copper curls.

When Lane was sure she would melt from the heat pooling so close to his fingers, he finally moved his hand again, slipping his fingers inside her. "And here. Hot, and wet."

She arched off the bed, a hoarse cry ripping from her throat. "Please Adam. I don't think I can bear any more waiting."

"Soon, sweetheart. Let me touch you first. You feel ... exquisite." He bent his head to her breast, taking her nipple deep into his mouth. "And you taste ... mmmm."

Whimpering against his neck, she let him touch her. Let his wonderful mouth, his clever fingers, work their magic, playing on her, over her.

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