Midnight Rainbow by Linda Howard

Jane found herself helplessly giving him what he wanted. She'd never been
kissed like that before, with such complete confidence and expertise, as if she
were his for the taking, as if they had reverted to more primitive times when
the dominant male had his pick of the women. Vaguely alarmed, she made a small
effort to free herself from his grasp. He subdued her with gentle force and
kissed her again, holding her head still for the pressure of his mouth. Once
again Jane found herself opening her mouth for him, forgetting why she'd
struggled to begin with. Since her divorce a lot of men had kissed her and
tried to make her respond. They'd left her cold. Why should this rough…
mercenary, or whatever he was, make shivers of pleasure chase over her body,
when some of the most sophisticated men in the world had only bored her with
their passion? His lips were warm and hard, the taste of his mouth heady, his
tongue bold in its exploration, and his kisses caused an unfamiliar ache to
tighten within her body. A mindless little whimper of delight escaped her
throat, the soft female sound making his arms tighten around her.
                  Her hands slid up to his shoulders, then
locked around his neck, hanging on to him for support. She couldn't get close
enough to him, though he was crushing her against him. The buttons of his shirt
dug into her bare breasts, but she wasn't aware of any pain. His mouth was
wild, hungry with a basic need that had flared out of control, bruising her
lips with the force of his kisses, and she didn't care. Instead she gloried in
it, clinging to him. Her body was suddenly alive with sensations and needs that
she didn't recognize, never having felt them before. Her skin actually ached
for his touch, yet every stroke of his hard fingers made the ache intensify.
                  Boldly cupping her breast in his palm, he
rubbed the rough pad of his thumb across her tightly puckered nipple, and Jane
almost cried aloud at the surge of heat that washed through her. It had never
been like this for her before; the urgency of the pure, brazen sensuality of
her own body took her by surprise. She'd long ago decided that she simply
wasn't a very physical person, then forgotten about it. Sex hadn't been
something that interested her very much. The way Grant was making her feel
completely shattered her concept of herself. She was a female animal in his
arms, grinding against him, feeling and glorying in the swollen response of his
body, and hurting with the emptiness deep inside her. Time disappeared as they
stood in the water, the late afternoon sun dappling them with the shifting
patterns of light created by the sheltering trees. His hands freely roamed her
body. She never even thought of resisting him. It was as if he had every right
to her flesh, as if she were his to touch and taste. He bent her back over his
arm, making her breasts jut enticingly, and his lips traveled hotly down her
throat to the warm, quivering mounds. He took her nipple into his mouth and
sucked strongly, and she surged against him like a wild creature, on fire and
dying and wanting more. His hand swept downward, his fingers curving between
her legs to caress her through the silk of her panties. The boldness of his
touch shocked her out of her sensual frenzy; automatically she stiffened in his
grasp and brought her arms down from around his neck to wedge them between
their bodies and push against him. A low, guttural sound rattled in his throat,
and for a brief, terrified moment she thought there wouldn't be any stopping
him. Then, with a curse, he thrust her away from him. Jane staggered a little,
and his hand shot out to catch her, hauling her back to face him. "Damn you, is this how you get your kicks?" he asked,
infuriated. "Do you like seeing how far you can push a man?" Her chin
came up, and she swallowed. "No, that's not it at all. I'm sorry. I know I
shouldn't have thrown myself at you like