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“I want Falco,” she said simply. “And Antonio. I’ll only have one first time. Make it memorable. Give me all of it and don’t hold back.”
His iron will dissolved under the onslaught of her sensuous plea. With equal parts desperation and need, he hauled her into his arms and fell into her, into the innocence that called to him. Not to destroy, but to absorb. She was perfectly whole and exquisite and the shattered pieces of his soul cried out for her.
Hungrily, he kissed her, twining her body with his so he could feel her. His skin screamed for more of the sweet friction against hers. He palmed her heavy breasts, which filled his hands and then some. They were gorgeous, full, with huge nipples that his mouth strained to taste.
Unable to wait, he sucked one between his lips. She gasped and her back arched instantly. Yes. Amazingly responsive, as he’d fantasized. He moved to the other breast, and the sensation of his tongue curling around her hard nipple had him pulsing with need.
The groan ripped from his throat and he murmured her name as he eased her back against the comforter. Moonlight played with her features as she lay there, exactly as he’d envisioned, and it was almost too much to take in. The mother of his children. His savior. Soon to be lover.
He needed her. Needed to be inside her, with her, loving her. But first things first. He bent one of her legs back and knelt to swirl his tongue at her center.
She froze and made mewling sounds in her throat.
“Shh, my darling,” he murmured and kissed her inner thigh. “You asked for wicked.” He kissed the other and opened her legs farther. “Close your eyes and imagine me in the ring. What about it excited you?”
“You were so graceful,” she murmured. “Like an apparition. But so very real and raw. It made me hot. All over.”
“Like this?”
Slowly, he touched her again with the tip of his tongue. She shuddered but didn’t tense up this time. He went a little farther, lapping a little harder. Her hips rolled and she sighed in pleasure.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Lie still, think about me and let me taste you.” He cupped her hips and tilted her up to his lips to feast.
She thrashed under his onslaught, but since her shudders brought her center closer and closer each time, he took full advantage of it instead of scolding her for doing the opposite of lying still. Honey gathered under his tongue a moment before she cried out.
Her climax went on and on and his own body throbbed in response, aching for a release in kind inside this woman.
Shaking with the effort, he managed to roll on a condom without breaking it—a minor miracle, given that he couldn’t precisely remember the technique—and stretched out next to her to take her into his arms.
“Ready?” he asked hoarsely, shocked he could speak at all.
“There’s more?” Since the question was laced with wry humor, he hoped that meant she was kidding.
“Oh, yes, there’s more,” he said fiercely. “I’m dying to show you.”
She feathered a thumb across his lips, sparking sensation to the point of pain. “Show me, Antonio.”
More roughly than he’d intended, he nudged a knee between her thighs and rolled, poised to thrust with all his pent-up energy. But he held back at the last second, somehow, and kissed her with every ounce of that longing instead. When she responded with a throaty moan that he felt in his groin, he couldn’t wait. He pushed as slowly as he could into her center.
She wasn’t on board with slow.
Her hips rose up to meet him, accepting him, encouraging him, and with a groan, he sheathed himself completely. Then forced his muscles to pause, though every fiber of his being screamed to let loose, to drive them both to completion with frenzied coupling.
He sought her gaze. “Tell me it’s okay.”
She nodded and let out a breath, her eyes shining as she peered up at him, hair a dark mass around her ethereal face. She was the apparition, a heavenly body trapped on this plane, and he’d been lucky enough to find her.
“It doesn’t feel like I would have thought,” she commented.
That made two of them.
Emotion he couldn’t name wrenched at his heart, threatening to pull it from his chest. Love. He wanted it to be love, to know that he could feel such things and wasn’t irreparably damaged.
But the sense he had of his previous experiences didn’t match this. Not even close. This was so much bigger, so overwhelming. What if he was damaged? What if his memories never returned? How would he know if he was loving Caitlyn the way she deserved?
