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They love only you.
The words sang through his mind. His vow to her. The night they had married, lost in the pleasure, the exhaustion of each other’s bodies, he had whispered those words to her, and they surged in his soul now.
They trembled, hovered on his lips.
Noah snarled back a curse, jerked her to him, and his lips burrowed against her, kissing with the desperation of a man trembling too close to the edge.
Dominance surged and tightened inside him.
Hunger was like a beast, clawing at his balls.
And love, love was a double-e
dged sword ripping through his soul, reminding him with brutal efficiency of everything he had lost.
He kissed her like a man who knew it would be the last kiss he ever knew from any woman’s lips. It would be the last stroke of tongues, the last hungry moan, the last time he ever knew a woman’s softness.
She was imprinted into his very spirit. Before the night was over, he would imprint himself, as he was now, not as he had been, into hers. He would take the memory of Nathan Malone and replace it forever with the memory of Noah Blake.
And then, he would leave.
He was a bastard. The worst sort of son of a bitch and there was no way out of it. No way to fix what had been broken, no way to remove his name from the papers he had signed or to overcome the fears that he knew, knew, she couldn’t accept him as he was, rather than the man she had lost.
So he took what was his now. Here, amid the pictures of all she had lost, his lips bore down on hers, nipping, sipping, kissing until he felt immersed inside her.
His cock pressed against her stomach, full and thick, the heavy blunt crown throbbed, spilling a minute amount of come against her bare flesh where her shirt had risen.
Noah jerked back, staring down at her fiercely before he simply gripped the edges of the shirt and ripped it loose from the buttons.
Damn her!
She should have shown fear. She should have gasped in alarm.
Did she? Hell no. Her eyes lit up like Christmas and the arousal that flooded her face almost, just almost, matched his lust.
“Like that, baby?” He jerked the pieces over her shoulders and watched the flush that climbed the rounded flesh of her breasts that the bra she wore didn’t quite cover.
“Hated it,” she mocked him, but her eyes said otherwise. Her hard, spiked nipples proved otherwise.
“You’re hot,” he drawled, unclipping the bra between her breasts and dragging it off her shoulders. “I bet you’re so wet I could drown in your juices.”
“As wet as you are hard.”
His breath jerked in his chest as her fingers curled around his cock. Not all the way. He looked down, seeing the space where her fingers wouldn’t meet, then glanced up at her and grinned.
“I’m hard, baby. Real hard.”
“You are, aren’t you?” She stroked the length as his hand tangled in her hair again.
“You’re going to find out how hard,” he growled. “Go down on me, Sabella. Suck me. Show me how bad you want to be fucked.”
Her eyes flashed back at him. Hunger and defiance. But the hunger won out. She wanted him in her mouth just as damned bad as he wanted to be there.
“Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, almost shaking from the need as she began to kiss her way down his chest, his hard abs. Son of a bitch, he was going to explode before her lips ever touched him. “God, Sabella. Sweet baby. Your lips.”
He jerked. He felt as though liquid fire were enveloping the crest of his cock, stroking over him, vibrating with a moan.
He looked down at her, watched his flesh stretch her pink lips, watched the head sink inside her suckling mouth, and felt himself break apart.
