Thea...
He buried his face in the warm silk of her hair. The honeyed smell of her wrapped seductively around him. Every part of him ached to ease into her warm, soft body again.
He wouldn’t wake her. But the need clutched at his throat and threatened to cut off his breath. He had no rights here. He shouldn’t have touched her. Even worse, he’d taken her virginity. The guilt of it scraped inside him.
He’d been fooled by those photographs in Raul’s dossier. She’d been right from the beginning. He was no better than the rest of them. He’d seen only what he’d wanted to and taken selfishly. No matter how much she claimed to desire him, he’d used her in the crudest fashion.
It made him sick to his gut. Even though his body screamed for her, rigid with desire.
They were married. He could take her and what would it matter?
But it did. He’d said he’d protect her. From her father and brother, sure. But from himself too. He was just another man wanting to use her for his own aims. No matter how he tried to dress it up in some cloak of honour.
He dragged his reluctant body away from hers, putting some space between them. She stirred, sighed and sank back into the pillows. He watched her sleep. Stared at the dip and curve of her waist. The flare of her hip. Her hair like spilled coffee on the pillow.
Then there were the tattoos. When he’d first seen them, in his arrogance he’d thought they marred her. Not now. He reached out, his hand tracing the serpentine flock that swooped across her spine, each one a tribute to her strength in the face of deprivation.
He stroked his finger across the last bird. His. Acid burned his throat. His mark on her. He could never forget.
Thea stretched, lean limbs tightening. Then she turned, her eyes heavy with sleep. A soft smile played on her plush, plum-coloured mouth. She looked wanton. Well kissed.
He bunched his hands by his sides, but there was no hiding the arousal which had plagued him since he’d woken. Her eyes flicked to it, and back to him. She licked her lips. He had to do something—because he wasn’t going to take any more from her. Even if she thought she wanted to give it freely.
‘When are you going to add another bird?’ His voice was rough with lust. He cleared his throat.
Her brows knitted. Confusion flitted over her face. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘I hurt you.’
The simple truth. One she couldn’t deny.
Thea put her hand to his cheek. It rested there. Soft and cool against his burning skin.
‘You gave me wings.’
She’d misunderstood him. He’d taken from her. Taken something he’d had no right to.
‘You were in pain.’
Her thumb stroked gently back and forth across his cheek. Her eyes locked onto his, dark and serious.
‘A few nerves. It was nothing.’
He took her hand in his and squeezed. ‘I’ve marked you. Worse than your brother. Worse than your father.’
She sat up, filling his vision with her unique glow. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders to skim her rosy pink nipples. He wanted to drag her down, let her light spill into him. Flood the dark corners of his soul.
‘No, Christo.’ Her eyes were wide with horror. ‘Never compare yourself to them. It was perfect.’
He should turn away, but the view of her luscious body filled him. His gaze raked over her. She looked down at him, grasped the sheet in front of her and dragged it to her chest. Her cheeks flushed. That picture of innocence made her look even more beautiful, and it was a reminder.
‘Your virginity isn’t something you should have given me. Anyone else—’
‘I’ve never met anyone I thought worthy.’
Her words sliced through him. Her eyes were wide and soulful. They tore at his heart.
‘You’re worthy of me,’ she whispered.
How could he tell her he was not that person?
He wasn’t good enough. Not even his parents wanted him. But he craved to be a better man—one who’d never hurt her.
That bereft, lost look in her eyes haunted him. Christo hauled her close and she fell into his arms. He threaded his hands through her hair, dropping his lips to hers. He lost himself in her sweet intoxication. He couldn’t give her much, but he could give her this.
He rolled away from her and she whimpered in protest, smiling as he returned, sheathed, protected and ready. He eased her leg over his hip, bringing her close. She arched towards him. He was hard. Desperate to be inside her. Each breathy sigh pleaded with him to thrust into her body. But he held back. There’d be no clumsy attempt this morning. He wanted it slow and aching. So he could watch her tremble and fall apart as he filled her with consuming pleasure.
He reached his hands around to her perfect buttocks, drawing her close. She sighed as her eyes drifted shut. He slid his hands between her legs, teasing between her thighs till she begged—‘Please...’—and he slid one finger inside. Another circled her clitoris till she trembled in his arms.
She lifted her head and looked at him. Eyes glassy, breaths short and panting. He angled his hips towards her and entered her with a slow slide that almost undid him. She moaned—a deep, satisfying thing that punched low and hard. He kept his hand between them, teasing as he pulled her leg higher over his hip and maintained the aching rhythm between her thighs.
He looked into her glazed, desire-drugged face. He wanted her. More than life. The curl of need at his every move into her body twisted tight and threatened to snap him. He was close. So close. But he’d ensure her pleasure first. Her nipples had tightened and her breathing had become
