Chapter 48 48
That night Alana pulled on her nightie and made one last check on Juliana before going to bed herself, as was her habit. Only, this time when she stepped into the room lit only by a bunny nightlight, she found Stefan already there.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just a pair of jeans that lay low on his hips and clung to his legs like a lover’s hands. He turned when she stepped into the room, and she felt the power of his gaze slam into her. In the dim light, even his pale eyes were shadowed, dark, but she didn’t need to see those eyes to feel the power in them.
Her skin started humming, her blood sizzling, but she made herself put one foot in front of the other, walking past Stefan to Juliana's crib, smoothing her hair, laying a gentle hand on her tummy as she slept.
And through it all, she felt Stefan's gaze on her as surely as she would have a touch. Her breath came in shallow gasps and her stomach did a quick enough spin that she felt nearly dizzy. What was he doing in here? Why was he watching her as he was? What was he thinking?
Her hands were shaking as she turned to leave the nursery with quiet steps. She got as far as the hallway when Stefan's hand came down on her arm.
“Wait.” His voice was hard and low, demanding.
She looked up at him, and here in the dark, where even the pale light from the plugged-in plastic bunny couldn’t reach, Stefan was no more than a tall, imposing figure moving in close to her.
“Stefan—” Could he hear her heartbeat? Could he sense the fires he kindled inside her? Could he feel the heat pouring off her body in thick waves? “What are you doing?”
Heaven help her, she knew what he was doing. And more, she was glad of it. Just standing with him in the dark filled her with a sense of expectation that had her breath catching in her lungs.
“Don’t talk,” he whispered, moving in even closer, until their bodies were pressed together, until he’d edged her back, up against the wall. “Don’t think.” He lifted both hands and covered her breasts.
She sucked in air and let her head thunk back against the wall. Even through the thin cotton fabric of her nightgown, she felt the thrill of anticipation washing through her. His hands were hot and hard and strong.
His thumbs moved across the tips of her nipples and the scrape of the fabric over her sensitive skin was another kind of sweet agony.
“Yes, Stefan,” she whispered, licking dry lips and huffing in breaths as if she’d just finished running a marathon. “No thinking. Only feeling. I want —”
“Me, too,” he said, cutting her off so fast, she knew instinctively that he was feeling the immediacy of the moment. “Have for days. For so long. Can’t wait another minute. I need to be in you, Alana. To feel your heat around me.”
He dropped his head to the curve of her neck and swept his tongue across the pulse point at the base of her throat.
She jerked in his arms, then lifted her hands until she could cup the back of his head and hold him there. While her fingers threaded through his thick hair, he dropped one hand down the front of her body, skimming her curves, lifting the hem of her nightie. Then he was touching her bare skin and she arched into him as he slid his magical fingers beneath the elastic band of her panties.
He touched her core, slid his fingers into her heat and instantly, she exploded, rocking her hips with the force of an orgasm that crashed down on her with a splintering fury. Whimpering his name, she clung to him with a desperate grip until the last of the tremors slid through her. Then she was limp against him until he picked her up and walked to her bedroom.
Holding on to him, Alana smoothed her hands over his skin, his broad back, his sculpted chest, and when he sucked in a gulp of air, she smiled in the dark, pleased to know she affected him as deeply as he did her.
In moments she was on her bed, staring up at him as he tore his jeans off and came to her. In the next instant he’d pulled her nightshirt up and off, and slid her white lace panties down the length of her legs and tossed them onto the floor.
Since the second he’d moved into her home, Alana had wanted this. She’d lain awake at night hungering for him, and now that he was here, she had no intention of denying either of them. Though, for all she knew, this was his way of saying goodbye. He might be giving up on her after their last conversation about marriage.
She didn't want him to, but if that was the case, then she wanted this one last night with him. Wanted to feel him over and around her. Wanted to look up into those pale eyes and know that at least for this moment, she was the most important thing in the world to him.
Tomorrow could take care of itself.
He moved in between her legs and stroked her now all-too-sensitive center. She moaned softly, spread her legs farther and rocked her hips in silent invitation. All she wanted was to feel the hard, strong slide of his body into hers. To hold him within her.
Then he was there, plunging deep, stealing her breath with the hard thrusts of his body. He laid claim to her in the most ancient and intimate way. And Alana gave him everything she had. Her hands stroked up and down his spine. Her short nails clawed at his skin. Her legs wrapped themselves around his hips and urged him deeper, higher.
When he bent his head to kiss her, she parted her lips and met his tongue with her own in a tangle of need and want that was so beyond passion, beyond desire, that she felt the incredible sense that this is where she’d always been meant to be.
He tore his mouth from hers, looked down into her eyes and said with a groan, “Alana…I need you.”
“You have me,” she told him and then arched her spine as a soul-shattering climax hit them both hard. Holding him tight, Alana called out his name as wave after wave of sensation crashed, receded and slammed down onto them again and again.