Kindred by P. J. Dean Page A

rasped. His insistent pressure along her spine, pulled her into closer contact with his groin. Her flesh under his fingertips sent ripples of delight through him. He felt himself harden. Her nearness was his undoing. He planted a kiss in the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat. At the same time, he cupped her breasts and circled his thumbs over the nipples.
    Kindred moaned.
    “Lelaheo, I don’t want to wait anymore.”
    Kindred could feel him smile against her neck. He let loose a small hoot and lifted her off her stockinged feet, crossed the room and settled her on the four poster bed.
    “Kinny, from this night on, know you are my wife.”
    “And you, my husband. Let me,” she said as she scrambled to her knees on the mattress before him. She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his breeches. Kindred slowly undid its few buttons and then yanked the top up, and off his body with both hands. Lightly gripping his trim waist, she leaned in, pressed her face to his virtually
    hairless chest. His scent was sandalwood, tobacco and the outdoors. She felt him shiver as she kneaded and examined him. She landed airy kisses up and down his muscled torso. She felt his ribs hitch and heard his breathing alter when her hands ventured down to the
    buttons on his breeches. She hesitated. His sizable, erect penis strained the fabric.
    “Go on,” he said hoarsely. Kindred unbuttoned his breeches, brushing her palms down the fronts of his thighs as she pulled them and his hose down to his ankles in one motion. Lelaheo gripped her shoulders as her fingers explored him. He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them. “I’ll do the rest.” He stepped back and doffed the remainder and stood nude before her. “Now you.”
    A surge of excitement mixed with fear coursed through Kindred as her eyes scoured every exposed part of him. He was more beautiful than any diagram of the human male body in a textbook—shining, midnight hair trailing over his back and shoulders, a fully developed, lean, strong body, and a face exuding a strange union of sincerity and desire.
    “Kinny, please. I am getting lonely standing here all by myself,”
    he said extending a hand. “Not to mention a chill.”
    His plea snapped her out of her woolgathering. She stepped off the bed into his embrace again.
    “Afraid?”
    “Not in the least.” She chuckled. This was the moment she’d been waiting for forever. “A chill, you say?” She perused his groin. “Not from what I see.”
    Lelaheo felt awkward. The sudden silence was deafening. “Kinny, if you have had a change of heart …. We do not have to do this. It is not written in stone.” He backed away and began retrieving his clothes.
    “No!” Kindred eased out of her shift, letting it flutter to the floor. She yanked his clothes from his hands and tossed them after, took his arms and wrapped them around her waist. The skin to skin contact was so heady she believed she’d swoon.
    Lelaheo looked at her. “Are you certain?”
    “I have never been more certain,” she reached up and smoothed silky hair strands from his eyes, “about anything in my life before.” She gazed into his eyes. “Touch me. Everywhere.”
    Lelaheo bent his head and kissed her with a hunger that was only rivaled by the way in which his hands sought her. Kindred’s legs buckled a little as she succumbed to his urgency, her breathing becoming more rapid and shallow with each stroke and rub. She broke off their fevered kiss so she could gaze up into his desire-soaked features as she freely returned his caresses.
    Lelaheo steeled himself against her massages, grazes and brushes on him and his about to explode flesh.
    “Kinny,” he sighed deeply, her name a petition. And with it he lifted her up into the circle of his arms and settled them in the center of her four-poster.
    She writhed under the heat of his feathery, scalding kisses on her inner thighs as he peeled her stockings down and off her legs, the insistent