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Her husband.
A title that had once intimidated the hell out of her. Now, it lent her peace.
Could this man really be hers? So steady and powerful, devastatingly handsome. She traced the fullness of his lips with her eyes, the sharp cut of his jaw…down to his bare chest. The muscles in his stomach clenched, drawing her eyes there before she ventured even lower to his burgeoning arousal.
Her mouth went dry.
Things had been so emotional last night and this morning that she hadn’t had the strength for anything more than tears. All the energy had been sucked out of her. But now, as her mind climbed out of the fog, a desperate ache hit her. She wanted him close–closer than they were now.
“I can’t be gentle, Ana,” he rumbled, his voice heavy with need.
Her fingers spread across his chest, feeling him inhale deeply. He was like a caged animal, waiting with steely control. “I don’t want you to be,” she whispered.
Whoosh.
Ana found herself flat on her back as Gio lowered himself over her, one hand above her head while the injured one went to her lips. They opened with a languid sigh before closing around his probing finger, licking it shyly.
“Fuck.”
Growling at the bold move, Gio ripped his finger away, replacing it with his mouth. Stealing her breath as he devoured her with a heated kiss.
Ana arched her back wantonly, pressing her breasts up against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his back, while her legs shifted restlessly beneath him. The restlessness magnified as he withdrew, drawing a muted whine from her. But he resisted her call, propping himself up on an elbow to take in the view.
Did she look as disheveled as she felt?
As needy?
She must have, by the way Gio’s dark eyes dilated, clouding over slowly until she was staring into an endless abyss of black.
His dark eyes moved away from her face, dropping to the hem of her nightgown. With his lips thinned into a rough slash of hunger, Gio gathered the fabric and began to slide it up her leg, revealing silky smooth skin…and no panties.
Ana squeezed her thighs together at his discovery.
Breathing heavily, Gio paused, clenching the nightgown in his fist. He was entranced by the needy movement of her thighs, looking like he was ready to tear her gown off completely. But in a blink, he released it from his grip.
"Tell me to stop–and I'll stop," he said fiercely. "Got it?"
Ana was in a daze but nodded.
Satisfied, he left the bottom half of her nightie as it was, rucked up at her waist. Carefully, he moved up to the buttons on the bodice, undoing each one of them with precise control.
A shadow passed across her face.
The memory of another man’s hands on her.
No.
Please.
Was it too soon?
The past was still lingering in the air, raw and exposed from last night. Provoking her. She had just assured Gio that his touch did not hurt her, that it could not compare to that monster’s. But in all the times they had slept together before, she had never let the memories come so close. They had always been carefully suppressed. She had even suppressed all the details when describing the incident to Gio, for fear of him retreating and avoiding touching her.
Now…they were spilling over.
Nausea roiled through her.
A hand closed around her jaw–and her eyes flew open.
