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“What did you do to me?” Her fists clenched at her side.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head wearily. “Whatever it is, I did it to myself as well.”
“You bastard!” There was nothing left to throw at him. She had thrown everything she could find over the past three days and the final object, that damned bowl, now lay at his feet. “You’re lying. Just like you lied to me all these years, you’re lying to me now.”
“No, Anya.”
The sound of her name on his lips was too much. She snarled, her fingers clawed as she jumped for him. She was going to claw his lying eyes out of his face. She was going to make him hurt the same way he was making her hurt.
He caught her hands an inch from his face.
“Stop this, Anya, it isn’t helping.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she cried out, struggling against him, mind and body torn apart by conflicting emotions and needs. “You betrayed me, Del-Rey. You lied.”
“I know, baby.” He held her hands with one hand, the other touched her cheek, his thumb moving over her lips. “We’ll deal with that, I promise. But I need your kiss. Now.”
“No,” she moaned, a long, drawn-out sob of need and despair as she pressed her cheek into his palm, bit his thumb.
Oh God, he tasted good. So good. Her tongue licked over the pad and her lashes fluttered.
“One more kiss,” he growled. “Then we’ll figure this out. I promise.”
“One more kiss,” she gasped. “One more.”
She was reaching for him, needing him. Her lips opened beneath his, accepting his tongue and that taste she craved so desperately. She sucked it into her mouth and heard his groan of pleasure. She arched into his arms and begged silently for more.
One more kiss wasn’t enough. She needed him to touch her. So bad. So bad that she gripped his hand and shoved it under her shirt. Then her hands were burrowing beneath his shirt, touching hot, hard flesh as she felt his hand cup the swollen mound of her breast.
Oh, that was good. His thumb raked over her nipple and it was even better. He lifted her into his arms, and a second later she was stretching back on the bed as he whipped the shirt over her head.
Her hands buried in his hair as his lips covered her nipple. She tore at his shirt until he lifted his head, ripped it off and moved to her other nipple.
His skin covered hard, corded muscle. It flexed beneath her palms, her nails, as she felt his hands pushing at the cotton pants she wore.
It was desperate. She could feel the enraged lust traveling between them, as though electricity connected them, one feeding from the other until she was burning inside and she knew she wasn’t going to get enough of him. She needed more of him.
A second later she found herself flipped to her stomach. Her fingers curled into the blankets as she opened her eyes and stared in dazed confusion at the bed. Her hips were jerked up. Calloused fingers ran through the sensitive folds between her thighs, and she was wet. So slick and wet and hot. And it felt so delicious she stretched into the caress.
“Tell me you want me,” he growled behind her.
“I want you,” she sobbed the answer into the bed, tears falling from her eyes again as she felt him behind her. “I want you.”
Broad and hot, the crest of his cock tucked between the wet folds.
Not like this. She pressed her head into the bed. Not like this, where she couldn’t hold on to him, where she couldn’t find a sense of control or focus.
Why like this?
He pressed inside and she went crazy from the pleasure. Her back arched at the stretching heat, a cry falling from her lips, part protest, part hunger.
She felt a pulse of heated fluid filling her, burning her further. She felt her sex flex and ripple and draw him in. With each heated spurt she became more sensitive, hungrier, needier.
She should tell him she was a virgin. She should tell him she hadn’t done this before.
A scream ripped from her throat as he tunneled inside in three hard strokes. Every inch. And he was so thick, invading her, stretching her, tearing through her virginity without the pain she had expected, but with more impact than she could have imagined.
Her thighs parted more, her hips tilted back farther and he was coming over her, his powerful arms braced by her head as he began thrusting into her. His lips were at her shoulder. Sharp little kisses, heated and fierce just below her neck.
