Page 34 of His Wedding Day Revenge

She moaned and bit down on her lips as he slid his hand between her legs, his finger slipping into the hot moisture of her body.

He only stopped when her finger slid across the velvet hardness of his tip, her hand closing as she tightened her grip around his shaft. Wriggling beneath him, she reversed their positions and moved down his body, tracking a line on his damp skin with her tongue.

A wild animal groan was torn from the vault of his chest as he dragged her up his body until their faces were level, his hands cupping her bottom.

The raw need etched in his face was beyond exciting.

‘You taste of me,’ he slurred against her mouth as they kissed. ‘I need...’

She saw what he was about to do and said quickly, ‘No, it’s okay, I’m not... I have it covered.’

A strange expression flickered across his face but a moment later it was gone and he nodded. ‘I’m safe too. Tested. And when I am inside you there is no one else.’

She could have wept. There had only ever been him. Did he really think she could think of anyone else? ‘I need you inside me,’ she whispered, sliding her tongue along his lips and then inside his mouth.

As his control broke he tipped her onto her back.

‘I have to have you now.’

She silently nodded and strained up towards him as he slid a knee between her thighs, nudging the aching moisture between her legs. She pushed against him to ease the ache, the need.

Then as he slid into her in one thrust she yelled his name, her fingernails digging into his back for purchase.

‘You’re like silk,’ he groaned against her neck and the pulse inside her built and built until they were both on fire.

Then she hit the peak and shuddered, feeling the heat spill deep into her.

‘What are you doing?’ A heavy arm was flung across her. ‘What time...?’

She pressed a finger to his lips and wriggled sinuously from under his arm.

‘I have to go.’

He sat up, looking gorgeously rumpled but suddenly very awake.

‘It’s the rule.’

‘Whose rule?’

She ignored the appeal of his white devilish grin, along with the lazy, slumbrous invitation in his eyes as he lay there, his hands tucked behind his head, in a pose that said, I’m yours...come and get me.

She wanted to but this needed saying.

‘Mine. Look, if this is going to happen again it will be on my terms.’

His eyes narrowed speculatively as he raised himself on one elbow to look at her. ‘Is this because you feel guilty, disloyal that we had sex?’

It would have hurt less if he’d said made love.

There had never been any pretence of love, yet there had been tender moments. A touch, a look that had had the power to bring tears to her eyes, a reaction countered by the longing to hear him voice the feelings that she now knew had been nothing but a product of her own wishful thinking.

She would not make that mistake again. She would accept the reality and enjoy it while it lasted.

She lifted her chin. ‘I am not the woman I was... I won’t...’

‘Say what you imagined I want to hear... Yes, I get that,’ he said sardonically. ‘And it is why... I like that idea. I like the idea of sex as equals, no emotional barriers. You are grieving, but we still have needs... Sex is a natural human urge, and I think a lot—I think a lot of being inside you,’ he admitted throatily, allowing himself to admit that his desire for her was utterly insatiable.

That had not changed, but his sense of self-preservation made him refuse to acknowledge that her vulnerability hurt him—he always had considered empathy something to avoid.

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