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For nearly a year he had denied himself pleasure. He could survive another minute.
And then she arched up, her moan filling the air between them.
“Rosalind.”
She opened her eyes, panted as her gaze moved up and down his body.
“Griffith. I need you.”
He shucked off his pants and covered her body with his. Moans filled the air as his chest pressed fully against her breasts. Their hands moved, caressed. He kissed her mouth, the tip of her nose, grazed his lips over her temple. He trailed his lips down over her cheek, her jaw, her neck, inhaling the faint fragrance of rose that clung to her skin.
Then he shifted, pressed kisses with gentle grazes of teeth along the slopes of her breasts. She cried out, her fingers digging into his hair, as he sucked one tight nipple into his mouth. He wanted more, to move fast, to satisfy himself.
But something else drove him farther down her body, a need to make this moment intimate, special for a woman who had trusted him enough to choose him.
His hands settled on her thighs. He spread her legs, the scent of her arousal making blood roar in his veins.
“Griffith...”
He heard the hesitation in her voice, looked up even as his fingers pressed down on her skin.
“I want to taste you, Rosalind.” He turned his head, pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that made her tremble. “But only if you say yes.”
Slowly, she parted her legs even more, her fingers trailing over his face, moving with the same gentle caress over his scars and unmarked skin. Her touch, her lack of fear or disgust, made his throat tighten as he lowered his head.
The first touch was a brush of his lips against swollen, sensitive flesh. Her answering moan made him smile. He teased her with kisses and licks and nips along her thighs, the skin just above her mound.
But when he kissed her again, he tasted her desire.
And had to have more.
Gentleness disappeared as he devoured her. Her thighs clamped around his head. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she cried out, urged him on as she bucked against his mouth, incoherent sobs barely registering past the roaring in his ears.
Her body tightened, stiffened. She screamed his name as she peaked before sagging onto the bed.
He moved, slid up her body as he dropped a kiss on her hip, the slight swell of her stomach, the dip between her ribs. She lay still, her breathing shallow, her face turned to one side.
“That...”
“That what?” he prompted.
Her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head and smiled lazily at him.
“That was amazing.”
“I’m glad.”
He said it with no small degree of masculine pride. But beneath his own satisfaction lingered the tenderness that had surprised him in those first few moments, that had guided his actions as he had made love to her body with his hands and mouth.
Her eyes widened as he moved his hips, his hard length pressing against her thighs.
“Oh.”
She shifted, the action making her slick skin rub against him. He groaned, breathed in deeply to steady himself.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded. He placed himself at her entrance. Slowly, he eased inside. Her body closed around him, tight and hot and so wet he nearly came right then. She tensed as he came up against the barrier. He slid a hand into her hair, cradled her head and kissed her as he pushed deeper, swallowing her small cry of pain.
