Her murmurs, the moans coming from her, were making it more difficult for him to carry out the seduction he had carefully planned.
He was hard as steel, his blood beating in his veins, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
By the time he lifted his head, she was a mass of nerves, her body flushed with passion. The red and gold flames snapping upward coated her skin, giving it a sheen that was highly fascinating. Her hair was spread out over the cushions. Her eyes were glazed, lips swollen from his avid attention. Her breasts—Christ Jesus! He felt a new violent surge of emotions racing through his body as he stared at the darkened skin made moist by his mouth. His head lifted to hers, the wild passion already evident.
It had to be now, he thought dazedly. Rising, he made short work of getting rid of his clothing. Her eyes wandered over the golden skin, made even more so by the flames. He had a magnificent body—long and lean, stomach washboard flat. His chest was smooth, rippling with muscles. When he lowered himself, she reached for him hungrily.
Turning her to face him, he framed her face between his hands. Brushing back tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks, he brushed his lips against hers. Her slender curves fitted him perfectly, as if she belonged—and she did. She was the only woman for him, and that would always be the case.
He kissed her hungrily, savoring her taste and scent. Her slender body trembled when he deepened the kiss. He could drown in the taste of her. But he wanted more. Pulling her beneath him, he covered her body with his. The kiss was potent, tinged with desperation. Her arms came around his neck. There was no need for words, no time for them. Their bodies clung, molding to each other, the passion between them escalating until they were mindless—maddened by the emotions wracking their bodies.
She was too far gone. He could have taken advantage of it—of her—by entering her without protecting them both. For one long moment, while he was caught up in the passion, he contemplated doing just that. He wanted children with her. Itwas time, and it would end up forcing her hand. Forcing her to confront her dad and forcing him to tell his father.
But he had promised her that he would give her time, and he had made vows—had promised to always be honest with her. Slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew, ending the kiss and reached for the pack of condoms he had brought with him.
"Let me."
His eyes darkened as they met hers.
"Want me to stroke your ego?" she murmured huskily.
"I would prefer you stroking me there." When she took him at his word, he felt his eyes going blind.
"Sweetheart, enough."
She touched him, trailing a finger around the reddened tip before delicately sliding on the thin rubber. By the time she was through, he was shuddering with a need so great, he had to purposely harness it. Lowering himself over her, he slid in, taking the time to savor her tightness wrapped around him. His lips met hers as her body surged upward to meet his thrusts. He did his best to slow things down, but that was wishful thinking.
The passion exploded between them, spinning out of control. He swallowed her fevered cries.
Emotions poured through them like a fiery storm. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back and shoulders. The climax was ferocious and had her arching her body in response. It was too much. She was feeling everything. Clinging to the last vestiges of self-control, he fell with her, his breath shuddering, his heart pounding as his seed spilled endlessly.
It took him several minutes to gather his composure and shift his weight off her. Even then, he held her trembling body against his. The fire crackled in the hearth, their labored breathing sounding loud in the quiet room. The rain was still pouring down, making pinging sounds on the windows.
They remained silent for a spell, each lost in their own turbulent thoughts. His fingers wandered up and down her back languidly,soothingly. Kadian realized that there was no place she would rather be than right here with him. She could not believe it was possible to love this much—to want this much. And the thought of leaving him tomorrow to go back to her dad's place was becoming more difficult.
She wanted a life with him, to be his wife in every conceivable way. To be by his side and wake up with him every single morning. She wanted that with a desperation that was spiraling out of control. She was going to have to find a way to tell her father. But how? she wondered in despair. How could she tell the man who was responsible for giving her life that she had met and married a man who had become her life? A man who was the son of his sworn enemy. How could she manage the rift she knew the telling of it would drive between them?
"You're thinking too loud," he admonished softly. Tucking his fingers under her chin, he brought her face up so he could look at her. He had felt the tension in her slender frame and knew her well enough to realize that her thoughts were troubled. "Do you trust me?"
"With all my heart."
He smiled at that. "It's going to work out."
"That's it? Nothing more profound?"
His smile widened. "You want poetry?"
"Maybe."
He toyed with the ends of her hair, fascinated by the color that was highlighted by the flames from the fire. "We're in love with each other, and love has been known to conquer all."
"I did ask for it," she acknowledged wryly.
"You certainly did." His expression sobered. "I have to believe that there is nothing we cannot overcome."
"Not even what's between our parents?"
"Even that." He tugged at her hair and twisted a strand around his finger. "The most important thing is that we have each other."
