Her fingers worked the buttons of his Cossack trousers, and she reveled in his lusty groan when she freed his erection. She rubbed the golden length slowly, pausing at the base.
He sucked in a breath. A golden prince, a ruthless warrior, coming undone as she placed the head over her lips.
“You know I’m terribly romantic, Pedro.”
She held his kaleidoscopic eyes as she took him in her mouth.
He caressed her hair, still torn between allowing her to give him this pleasure and demanding more.
“Too romantic, Ana. You must trust me that economic considerations should — Ah.” His words trailed away when she swirled her tongue, sucking softly.
Anne loved this, his sultry taste, the smooth head against her tongue, his sounds, even how naughty it made her feel when he called her angel—a fallen angel.
When she felt his abdomen tense, she released him from her mouth and found his heated gaze. “Love and business don’t have to stay separated.”
He tugged her atop him, her legs straddling him.
She accepted his erection, taking him in deep inside her sheath. Her hair fell down over her breasts like a curtain and pooled over his chest.
Moaning, she held to the headboard and rolled her hips slowly, invitingly.
“I fail to see your logic.” Pedro’s lips hovered so close to hers his breath ruffled her hair. The edge in his voice softened, though his brow stayed furrowed.
“You say that he is too ambitious. Alone, he will continue pursuing only business. If he marries Beth, then he might settle and be content with what he has. What if love changes him?”
She caressed the stubble along his jaw and then allowed her fingers to slip into his golden hair because what could be more glorious than caressing Pedro’s hair while she had him deep inside her?
She searched his eyes, those intricate shades of green and gold that always seemed to hold an unspoken storm.
Her rhythm faltered as pleasure coiled low in her tummy, and she dropped her head back, a moan escaping her lips.
Pedro held her waist, grinding her against him. “Do you believe love can change him?”
“It changed you,” she whispered on his lips.
“You are very wise, Ana.” His voice softened, carrying a note of reverence that made her heart flutter.
“Are we in agreement, husband?”
“We will see.” He captured her mouth in a kiss.
He tightened his hold on her, his arms closing around her back, bringing their chests flush together.
Anne cried out as a sweet, ravishing climax overtook her. Pedro flipped her over, his hips moving in and out of her with the force of an Atlantic tempest.
Anne laced her arms around his neck, and accepted him all—his strength, his ruthlessness, his light and his darkness—she craved all.
Their mingling breaths warmed the space between them, a fire creeping through their veins as their hair, golden and light blonde, intertwined and formed a delicate veil, shielding them from all else.
He came with a breathless cry, his essence pouring inside her.
The world faded, and they existed within their dome, where nothing could shadow their love.
Chapter fourteen
"A rogue never admits he’s lost the game—even when the lady holds all the cards." The Rogue’s Guide to Refinement
Boyd paused outside Beth’s door. The Italian marble beneath his boots gleamed in the dim light, but there was no warmth in it, no sound. He leaned his forehead over the door, fingers flexed around the handle. What the hell was he doing?
