“Madre de Dio, cara…” he choked out on a strangled voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she murmured, her small hand petting and stroking him in much the same way he had done earlier, only a lot less innocent.
“Theresa,” his voice was strained. “Sweetheart, please… if you keep doing that I don’t know… I don’t think…”
“‘Don’t think’…” she purred, lifting her head from his chest to meet his pleading brown eyes. “That’s a good idea.”
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Theresa didn’t really know the answer to that, only she had missed having him in her bed, in her arms… in her body the last few months and while, logically, she knew that her raging hormones had a great deal to do with her unwanted urges, she also knew that a large part of it could be attributed to her annoyingly undying love and desire for him.
“Theresa, I don’t think this is what the doctor had in mind when he recommended bed rest and… you don’t really want this…” he muttered, reaching down to drag her hand away from his straining, fully erect length.
“I do,” she protested, trying to pull her hand free of his strong grip.
“No… you’re… I don’t know… your hormones are out of control because of the pregnancy, that’s why you feel like this,” his voice trailed off when one of her slender thighs moved up to where her hand had just been, he moaned helplessly when she applied slight pressure and relaxed his hold on her. That was all she needed and she was straddling him before either of them realized her intention. Suddenly her warm feminine mound was grinding up against him and both of them were groaning. Theresa watched as his head tilted back on the pillow and smiled in catlike satisfaction when his hands dropped to her thighs to drag her even closer. She braced her hands on his broad chest in order to maintain her balance and continued to sensuously rub herself against him.
“I think you may be right,” she eventually gasped. “About the hormones… I want you but I don’t want to want you.” Her frustration with herself and the situation were clouding her clear green eyes and his eyes went stormy with some kind of ruthlessly repressed emotion.
“Sssh… sweetheart… I read that pregnant women sometimes… well most times, get really…” his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right word, his mind obviously not on what he was saying as sweat started to bead his brow and his eyes took on a glazed, faraway look.
“Horny?” She supplied and she sensed the utter shock in his absolute stillness. She had never said the word before, even though he had on numerous occasions.
“Yes…” he finally said, after clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Because I am,” she reiterated, enjoying his discomfiture immensely as she continued to move sensuously against him. His hips were starting to strain upward slightly with each lazy movement she made and she relished the absolute power she had over him.
“You said there would be no sex,” he reminded desperately, his breathing becoming more laboured. “And I don’t think we can have sex while you’re on bed rest…”
“But maybe we can fool around a bit?” She smiled down into her husband’s shocked face, feeling like the cat that had stolen the cream. He lifted one of his arms and covered his eyes, biting back a cry of pleasured anguish as she exerted more pressure right where it counted. He lifted his arm from his face and his fevered gaze bored into hers, his face was taut with the control he was exerting over himself, the harsh planes standing out in sharp relief beneath his tanned skin. He reached up and tangled his large hands in her tousled red hair, tugging her towards him until their lips were a breath apart but Theresa smiled serenely down into his strained face and pushed her hands down onto his heaving chest to force some distance between them. He reluctantly let her go, relinquishing the opportunity to use his larger size and superior strength against her, obviously content, for now, to let her control events.
“Theresa, please,” he finally begged. “Give me your mouth. I need to taste you… per favore”
“No lips,” she shook her head. “This isn’t…” she hesitated and his eyes flared and his body went still beneath her, taut with tension.
“Isn’t what?” He demanded and she blinked down into his suddenly furious eyes. “Isn’t what, Theresa?”
“Personal…” she completed on a whisper and was shocked and dismayed when she surprised a flash of hurt in his usually unreadable gaze.
“This feels pretty damned personal to me, cara,” he hissed.
“I just… need you,” she half-sobbed and he shook his head, grabbing her narrow hips between his large hands.
“Not me,” he shook his head, keeping her hips steady as he ground himself against her. She shuddered in involuntary pleasure. “This!”
“Yes,” she cried out, pushing herself against him. “Please…”
“I won’t let you use me like that, Theresa,” his voice was so brittle it cracked.
“Why not?” She keened, tears of frustration, anger and heartbreak sliding down her cheeks. “You used me in exactly the same way… and you kept it impersonal too. No kissing, no cuddling, no intimacy, no talking, no warmth… nothing! You stripped the act of everything but the bare essentials and right now, that’s all I want from you.”