She lingered over the markings, and a tear wet his shoulder. "I hate him for hurting you."
"I barely felt the pain." Pedro had learned to shield his body, and by the end, his father had looked worse after one of their lessons than Pedro had. It was not about the pain. The damage the duke had done to him was inside. But he didn't tell her that. His father's shadow had no place between them.
Reverently, Pedro glided his palms over her shoulder blades and brought her to his chest. Lush and silky and smooth, how delicate she was, how precious. If only he could fit her inside him. "I keep thinking you will open your angel's wings and take to the sky." His voice came out gravelly, and he exhaled.
Anne sifted her fingers through his hair and brushed her lips against his neck. "If I had wings, they would only serve to bring me back to you."
Pedro kissed her, exploring her mouth, sucking her tongue. The thrill of her lustrous skin against his was incendiary, and Pedro guided her to lie on the bed. He followed her there. He would follow her anywhere.
When he rose above her, a sizzle shot down his spine. They fit, her legs opening to receive his hips, his hardness meeting her softness, cradling him like the most perfect nest.
Pedro feasted on her pliant curves, stroking and massaging, tugging her impossibly closer. Her sighs of pleasure demolished his will to go slow, and he pushed inside her. Her mouth opened in a silent moan, and Pedro stopped.
"Tell me if I'm hurting. I don't—I don't want to hurt you." The instinct to invade the last barrier and make her his clouded his vision, but he forced himself to pull away.
Before he could withdraw, she locked her legs around his waist and lifted her hips. Her maidenhead gave way in his downward thrust, and he covered her whimper with a kiss. He shuddered and buried his face in her neck. He had denied this attraction, but now, entrenched in her, he didn't know if he could ever leave.
She flitted her palms over his back, feeling for the ridges of his spine. If he felt an ounce of annoyance at her touch, he could not bear her so close, but everywhere she touched, his skin ignited. She strained, moving restlessly beneath him, and he knew to thrust. He kept pace with her movements. Though he had had sex countless forgettable times, in this, in lovemaking, he was the novice.
When she trembled, erupting in a wordless gasp, Pedro lost control, thrusting mindlessly, breaching her with the pound of his hips, consuming her innocence with all his desire, all his lust.
With a groan, he poured himself into her and then collapsed atop her. They lay chest to chest, skin to skin, his breaths stirring her light hair. Pedro's limbs trembled. Everything in him hushed, his thoughts blanked, strain left his muscles, and he simplywas. Connected with her. His chest expanded to engulf her, her scent mingling with his, her soft breaths mixing with the ocean waves. Her skin, moist and heated, melded with his.
She lay still, her eyelashes resting against her flushed cheeks. Had she felt the same? Undone and complete, overwhelmed and starved, scorched and blissfully free? He had taken her like a savage. She would be afraid of him, of the entire experience. His gut twisted, and Pedro tensed to pull away.
She closed her heels over his legs and enveloped him with her arms. "Don't leave."
"You will be sore," Pedro whispered, his heart soaring, and kissed her forehead.
She yawned. "I don't care."
Pedro adjusted his position, propelling his weight to the side so he would not smother her. She rested her head on his chest, and her breaths evened out until they turned soft and rhythmic. He kept his hand splayed over her spine, wishing to absorb her through his fingertips.
When night fell and the clock chimed eight hours, she stirred. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and a shy smile played at the corner of her lips. "Have you been watching me for long?"
"Since I saw you in my ballroom."
"That long? I—"
"Do you regret it?"
"Only that you took forever to—"
"Ruin you?"
"To make love to me."
"Can you tell love from ruin?"
"Let me see." She kissed him, lips luring his, daring to trace the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip. Fluttering her eyelashes, she tapped her chin. "I am positive it is love. I tasted a ruined apple once, and I dare say it wasn't so sweet." She giggled, mussed and smug, her hair fanned against his pillow.
Pedro gave her more of his weight and tucked her hair under her ear. He gazed into her eyes, and the intimacy they shared while the fires of desire were still banked, joined at a primal level, moved him deeply.
He kissed her tempting lips, and when she entangled her tongue with his, ripples of desire traveled through him, and he lengthened inside her. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a breathlessoh. He pressed against her pliable curves without thrusting, allowing her to get used to him.
"Pedro, this is… I think—"
He kissed her jaw and brushed his lips over her neck, lingering where her pulse beat. Sighing, she relaxed on the pillow, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on her lips. He kneaded her breasts, and when Anne arched her back, he accepted her offer, sucking her peaks with long pulls. She moaned, lifting her hips against him. But this time, he would not be rushed. He gave her deep, slow thrusts. Her breathing turned shallow, and when thepetite mortgripped her, Pedro followed her to oblivion.
