In one fluid movement he thrust hard and took what was his. And as he buried himself in the heart of her body he realised he’d made a terrible mistake.
Too fast. Too much. Too everything. The fire consumed her, deep inside. And Christo above her. Still, silent apart from his ragged breaths. She was trying not to breathe. Not to move. If she didn’t, it might not hurt.
Was it meant to be like this? She’d had orgasms before, on her own. They were fun, and she’d assumed with someone else it would be even better.
But tonight? All the pleasure, and then...
She stiffened.
Christo dropped his forehead to hers. His strong, muscular arms bracketed the sides of her head, his heavy weight pressing her down.
‘You should have told me.’
His voice was gentle. Kind. Her humiliation, complete.
‘It didn’t seem important.’
Virginity wasn’t, was it? An outdated notion, she’d always thought. Till now.
His muscles quivered. Was it hard for him to hold himself like that? She wasn’t sure. He’d been so hungry. Passionate. Aroused. Though she hadn’t really anything to go by, when he’d said he was coming for her she’d almost burst into flames. And then as he’d crawled towards her, wild and wanting...
The size of him. For a moment passion had fled and fear had invaded, leaching in like poison. Then he’d plunged into her, and now they were here.
‘It’s everything, Thea.’
His breath brushed her cheek. He tried to move—a slight shift as if to gently withdraw. Her hands that had been bunching the sheets in tight fingers now grabbed his hips to still him.
‘No. It’s done.’
She wanted him, craved to give him all of herself. How could this have gone so wrong?
‘That doesn’t give me much comfort.’
His laugh was mirthless. Pained. Though her own pain seemed to be dulling. Maybe she was getting used to him. The burn felt different now—less fire more insistence. A sensation she couldn’t place.
She moved her hands to his arms and stroked his taut biceps. Her each inhalation was a mere sip of air. What had started out as a grand seduction, had turned into a disaster.
Christo leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. ‘You said you trusted me. Do you still trust me, Thea?’
She nodded. Because she did. Implicitly. She knew he’d never intended what had happened tonight.
‘You need to breathe,’ he said. ‘Slowly.’
She looked into his eyes, green pools of swirling emotion.
‘Relax. I know what I’m doing.’
She breathed and he withdrew. The relief was exquisite, but a terrible feeling of loss remained. She didn’t understand it at all.
He cradled her in his arms. ‘I’ve disappointed you,’ she said, her voice cracking.
‘No.’ He held her close against his chest. All the while running his hand over her quaking body. ‘You’ve honoured me.’
He kissed the side of her neck, feather-light. Goose bumps flowered from every touch of his lips, shivering over her. He continued to stroke her everywhere his gentle fingers could reach. Smoothing out the tense muscles till she relaxed.
He whispered into her ear. ‘In this bed there’s only pleasure. I promise.’ Heat flashed over her, a new burn replacing the old. That confusing ache between her legs remained. Grew. She wanted him again—but how could that be?
He kissed her. His lips soft and gentle. Exploring slowly, waiting for her. She kissed him back. Every sweep of his tongue encouraged her to drown in the pleasure of his mouth. His hands drifted over her skin, stroking her nipples with the pad of his thumb till they were tight and all too sensitive. She wanted his tongue on them again. That sharp spike of pleasure spearing straight to her core.
As if reading her mind, he took her left nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention as his hand slipped between her legs.
Her stomach clenched with fear, but he soothed it away with his gentle insistent touch, coaxing her. The fire took hold, deep and low. He stroked, finding the perfect spot. There. There. The spark arced between her nipple and the juncture of her thighs. Pleasure. Pain. Beyond comprehension.
He slid one finger deep inside. Withdrew it. Then two. She gasped. The air was thick and hard to breathe. He kept moving, in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Oh, this... This was how it was meant to be. All-consuming.
The rhythm inside her was mirrored by his tongue at her nipple. He moved his thumb to the sensitive nerves between her legs. A light circling and the heat bloomed in a rush from her centre, roaring outwards. There was nothing but the feel of him. Lips, tongue, fingers. The wet slickness of her.
She needed him inside her again. Was desperate for him to fill her. He didn’t, just continued the relentless rhythm.
‘Christo...’
His name undid her. She screamed it to the room, and then she flew. Gripped him hard as wave after wave of perfection flooded over her. Her mind soared and her body followed. Convulsing. Gasping. Out of control. True freedom.
The spasms subsided. He withdrew his hand. Every part of her was shimmering with pleasure as he lay over her again and eased into her body. Gently. With reverence. She sighed. There was no pain. Only relief.
She placed her hands on his buttocks. Gripped him as the muscles tensed with each thrust. She understood desire now. Understood why it could drive a person mad.
Christo. Inside her. Close. Perfect. Elemental.
The pressure built again as she rode with him, two bodies in unison. Each thrust plunged him deeper and deeper into the soul of her. Into the sticky, sweet mess of it. And this time it was less sharp, but no less devastating. A long, blissful ache that built and built till her control shattered right along with his.
He moaned her name. Pained? Pleasured? She wasn’t sure. And then she let herself be swept away on the tide of it again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHRISTO SLID INTO consciousness as the hazy veil of slumber
