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“And if I cross that bridge right now?” I rasp against his parted lips. “What will I find waiting for me?”
A rough sound rambles up his throat. He pushes in to take my bottom lip between his teeth. “Nota quaint little nature scene.”
Air escapes me in shaky spurts. “Promise?”
There are no more words from him in response. Only actions that deliver on every syllable of his promise, in every way I crave. As he kisses me again, more references to honey push to mind, though I’m far from being a flitting bee about them. Not possible when I’m weighed by a barge of such heavy heat. It stunts my breaths and liquefies my knees. I drag him to the meadow blanket with me, and we’re instantly tangled in each other atop the printed ferns and flowers.
The flames in the fireplace find their way into an air pocket between the logs. Sparks pop and light flares as Maximus sears his mouth to mine again.
He’s inside me, exploring my tongue with his.
He’s next to me, unhooking my bra and then stripping it off along with my dress.
He’s atop me, peeling away his own clothes with more captivating motion.
And now he’s here, fully bare and beautiful. Sinewy and striated. His gaze filled with necessity, his muscles clenching in all the best places.
All of them…along with one particular, and oh-so-vital, organ.
“Have to have you,” he murmurs with more smoke than the stuff swirling off the logs. “Have to take you, right now.Kara…”
“Yes.” It’s barely an audible gasp, rushed out between my heavy pants. “Now…is really damn good.Ohhh!”
The breathy stutters are gone. My groan consumes my lungs as desire subjugates my senses. It’s urgent and vibrant and a thousand kinds of hypnotizing. If that’s really the case, I never want to be snapped out of the spell. I’ll never have enough of this beautiful man, especially when he stares like he’ll never have enough ofme.
The edges of his elegant lips turn up, as if I’ve given him exactly that message with my thoughts. I almost expect one of his wry quips to temper my serious mush, but entirely different words are the entirety of his next husk.
“I love you.”
“And I love you,” I whisper at once.
He makes good on his word, truly taking me. One thrust and we’re joined in full, rocking together in a rhythm older than the ages. Surely that was when the cosmos conceived the perfection of us as well. This fire is too pure, this need too complete. It feels too sinfully right to be this full of him yet craving more.
“Hang on, beautiful. This is going to be…”
“What?” I urge when the words are taken over by a heavy handful of his lusty breaths. At last, after his brow knits and his concentration steadies, he answers with one growl-infused word.
“Rough.”
Oneperfectword.
I gouge ten grooves into his shoulders and hike my legs higher. He snarls sinfully into my ear, and I into his. Still, I pull together enough breath to give him a seductive answer.
“Promise?”
* * *
Unsurprisingly, we fall asleep in each other’s arms in front of the fire. It’s also not a shock to wake and learn Maximus is awake before me. I open my eyes to the sight of him drenched in early morning sunlight. His naked torso, rising from the blanket we’ve borrowed from the sofa, is better than a whole pot of coffee.
The best part of the sight is what the sunbeams do to his eyes. It doesn’t hurt that he seems to be in a direct staring contest with the daytime star, and probably winning. The rings around his irises are nearly royal purple, contrasting with the sparks of blue fire seeming to spring from his pupils.
He’s beyond beautiful. And more than mine.
I don’t stop to question the conclusion anymore. It’s my miracle to claim, and I’m no longer afraid to do so. With every conviction of my heart.
He’s even more gorgeous while stretching an arm up and then beneath his head. While watching every mouth-watering moment of the action, I contemplate marauding him again. After the success of last night’s acrobatics, I’m tempted to take up some rock climbing classes to hone my skills. Or maybe pole dancing. Why not both?
My growling stomach sabotages my plans for a surprise mount-up. It’s so obnoxious, I add a fast giggle to the symphony.
