She felt… need. What to do to fulfill it? Her usually vibrant imagination failed to illuminate such mysteries.
He did, though. His hands found her hips and stroked up and down her thighs, putting her in a daze of pleasure. Then his fingers moved inward. Ah, heart-poundingly welcome and familiar territory. She threw her head back as he circled and dove and stroked. She mimicked his gestures as well as she could on him, tracing her fingers up and down his hard length.
Just when she thought a moan of pleasure would rip from her throat, his hands wrapped like vices about her waist and flipped her, his hard body pinning her to the mattress. During the turn, she lost hold of him, her arms flying around his neck. Then, all too soon his body disappeared as he moved lower, his head disappearing between her thighs, all but the golden halo of his mussed hair. She reached down to run her fingers through his waves, but then he blew on her inner thighs, over her slit, and the ripples of pleasure sent her spinning out. Her arms pressed into the bed on either side of her body, her fingers curling with some desperate emotion into her palms.
He blew again, then he kissed, and when his tongue flicked out, her brain flickered off, thought giving way to almost painful ecstasy. The explosion rocked her once more, and the only thing her consciousness seemed aware of was his warmth lying atop her again, his fingers where his mouth had been, and the hard length of him easing into her.
Then his face nestled close to hers. “You’reeverything. I want to be inside you.”
She nodded, incapable of speech.
He kissed her temple softly and caressed the curve of her shoulder, the outline of her breast. He filled her slowly, and she bit her lip with each slide.
She gained possession of her arms first and lifted them to trace the cord of his spine, down his back, to the curve of his bottom. A generous curve of muscle there, bunched to take him farther into her. She sighed and found she could move her legs now, too. So she did, curving one around his waist to draw him closer, even farther in until their bodies met, and he ground his hips against hers. Then he pulled away and pushed back, and she was a quick learner, lifting her hips and tightening her leg every time he arched forward. They rocked together, breathing, kissing, and… something else that settled deep inside her with each thrust. Something bright and steady, despite their escalating rhythm, despite the moaning urgency that clawed through them, despite his heated mouth at her breast and his hands tangling in her hair.
Another explosion, and while the other had settled her bone heavy into the bed, this one made her feel light and giddy.
“Open your eyes,” he panted.
She did.
He stared down at her, steady pools of blue, as full of thatsomethingas she felt. Then his eyes slammed closed, his body jerked, and he pushed even deeper into her than she’d thought possible. Then the bone heaviness must have overcome him, too. He collapsed on top of her, rolled to the side, and gathered her in his arms before letting every one of his muscles relax in a long, room-filling sigh.
Only his heavy limbs kept her from flying away into the far reaches of the ceiling, out the window, and into the night sky. She was glad for his weight grounding her. After all, she was no fairy with a home amid the stars, no fabled creature to grant others’ wishes.
Devon was no fairy-tale prince, no shining knight on a white horse.
She was only a woman, and he was just a man.
And she was quite sure she loved him.
* * *
Sleep never failed Devon, and his wedding night was no exception. When he hadn’t been worshiping every inch of his delectable new wife, he’d slept. Soundly. More so than usual, and Devon always slept the sleep of the innocent.
Even when he was far from innocent.
So, morning came with an unwelcome slice of sunlight across his eyes. Why the hell hadn’t they pulled the curtains tighter?
Likely because he’d more than enjoyed the way the moonlight had poured through Lillian’s thin shift, glowing against her skin. She was a mercurial creature, sun goddess during the day and moonbeam personified at night.
He squeezed his eyes tighter and rolled over to find his wife, who had snuck away from him sometime while he’d slept. He snaked his leg around her naked form.
Lillian kicked at the leg and rolled away.
Never one to be deterred, Devon gathered her to him again and held her tighter. She thought to squirm away, but he wasn’t going to let her go. She took a deep breath into his chest and then settled down, her breathing slowing until her sleep deepened. Good. He did not wish her to waken yet.
Confident she would not now wiggle out of his embrace, he settled onto his back, folded his free arm behind his head, and stared at the bookshelf across the room. She had flung the books from it and replaced them with the ones he loved. She had peppered his belongings throughout the entire room, marking it his in a way he had never felt comfortable doing.
This marriage should never have happened.
This woman should never have been his to hold as he was now in the faint early morning light, tight against his heart. An entire life and all his ambitions exploded with a single kiss and an angry father.
Who bloody cared why or how it had happened anymore?
It would be more difficult to get what he wanted in the way he wanted it, but he would make it work. This—here and now—was worth the extra work he would have to do to earn his way in the world. Because he could not now imagine what it would have been like otherwise. Without her.
Devon turned his head to look at his wife, her golden curls spilling over the pillow.
