"But I—"
"Must we remember it?" The wobbly smile returned, and she touched her smile to his lips.
Perched in his lap, she presumed to take command, surer than a green sailor who had never braved a storm. That he let her must be because he needed to feel lifeblood traveling inside the teal veins, pulsing beneath her translucent skin. Reverently, he kissed her eyelids, the tip of her elegant nose, her cheeks. Her tears tasted bittersweet.
He could've lost her. If not to Ulrich, then to his own shadows.
In the dimly lit cabin, against his dark clothes and the furniture's black silhouettes, Anne glowed. She was very much alive, her pliant curves warm and welcoming. Pedro lost his fingers in the silk of her hair and fused their mouths, wanting to nip, lick, devour her. She opened her lips and he explored her slowly, thoroughly, the kiss gaining intensity until his pulse pounded, and lava coursed through his veins. Pedro rained kisses down her chin, her neck, her sighs and puffs of breaths spurring him on.
She moaned, and arousal spiced the air like the sultriest of perfumes. Her first desire. Coaxed by him. His heart drummed a staccato clamor for release, for possession.
He slanted his mouth over hers, pushing his tongue inside. Without warning, she lowered her hands from his neck to his chest, her fingers trailing a path of fire.
"Ana."
"Hmm?"
He bit her lip. "You are not invisible."
Kissing her deeply, Pedro didn't allow her time to argue. If she touched him now, when his skin felt so raw, this would have to end.
While she held still, he massaged her calves, delighting in the skin prickled by goosebumps, the suppleness beneath. Drinking her sighs like the richest of wines, Pedro skimmed his hand up over her thighs, over the curves of her derriere, up inside the slit of her pantalets. The sheer cotton unveiled her core, moist for him. Her puffed breaths stilled. Undeterred, Pedro tempted her with fleeting caresses, then gentle thrusts, until her hips sought him.
She clamped her eyes shut.
He needed her to see him. "Look at me."
Anne opened her eyes, hazy like a misty morning. Her lips were parted, her skin glowing a deep rose. Pedro had never beheld a more erotic sight. He kept touching her until her stomach quivered. She gasped and hid her face in his chest.
If an army charged her cabin, it would not wrestle her from him. His soul could be damned, and he would not care as long as he gave her pleasure. "Let go for me, angel."
A sob, and she arched her back, her breasts pushing against her corset. Her tight passage clenched his finger, her release placing him at once in heaven and hell. Hissing, he pulled his hand away. While she lay languidly in his arms, a fallen angel, his breathing sounded harsh and out of control.
He stood from the recamier, bearing her slight weight, and strode to the bed. When Pedro lowered her atop the counterpane, her hair clung to him, whispering over his clothes, inviting him in. As if he needed an invitation. He would follow her to Hades.
Anne opened her arms, offering her embrace. Hope and a new light curved the bow of her lips, pressing the dimple on her cheeks, sparkling her eyes.
Panting, fists poised at the waistband of his trousers, Pedro froze. She invited him to a meadow filled with flowers and sunshine all year, no fortifications in sight, open to attack. A general's nightmare. Had he not envisioned what her absence meant to him this afternoon? She was the exposed flank of his corps, the unguarded wall of a fortress. A vulnerability he couldn't allow.
With shaky fingers, he pulled the merino wool quilt until it left only her face uncovered. Then he turned away, his gut churning. "Good night."
"Won't you stay?"
Pedro halted, staring at the cabin's door. "Would that be wise?"
"I don't want to be wise." Her words fizzled around his skin, the girlish rebellion sugary and tart.
He told himself he did her a favor. She would want a piece of his soul, she would want in, she wouldwant.What could he give? Love was what she expected, and he knew nothing about love. "This was desire. Your first glimpse." Pedro shut his eyes. "It will fade."
"No, I'm sure—"
Pedro spun, facing her. "It must be a husband's privilege, not mine."
She propped herself on the bedrest, the merino pooling on her lap. "You saved me from a battle. You guided me over an abyss. You taught me how to gamble. You made me invisible. And my first kiss… all you." She gifted him her wobbling smile. "Why not this?"
Pedro closed his eyes. Every tendon, every muscle, every patch of skin demanded him to accept her invitation. "Do not offer a man more than you are willing to give."
"But I thought… I mean, between us—"
