Her reply was a roll of her hips as she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were still glazed by the orgasm.
He eased inside her slowly, wanting to savour every moment. Amelia gripped his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his muscles. The heady mix of pain and pleasure intensified his desire.
Her secret heat tightened around him like a fist clad in silk. The bad leg bothered him, but he wasn’t going to change position, or he would crush her. A long sigh left her parted lips, and a stung hit him when her finger gripped him harder.
Slowly, he started moving. Her hips lifted and rocked, and drops of sweat dripped down his back. When he increased the rhythm, she followed him in perfect harmony.
“Chris.”
His name on her lips, pronounced with that husky voice, was the most powerful aphrodisiac he’d ever seen. Surely, his groin was going to burst from the pleasure . . . and his heart from tenderness. Because, despite her absolutely sexy moans and delicious body, he craved more. He wanted to protect her, to be the one she relied on when she was desperate, and to be the one who made her smile.
Somehow, the more he thrust inside her, the more her presence sneaked under his skin, making him her slave. It wasn’t just sex. There was something deeper he’d been too coward to explore before. But now the feeling was exposed in his chest, and he couldn’t ignore it.
He thrust harder, faster. Energy built up inside him. Her inner muscles tightened deliciously around his shaft. Another moan of ecstasy left her kiss-swollen lips as her muscles milked him with intense spasms. He couldn’t hold it any longer. Withdrawing from her, he spilled his seed on the carpet while pleasure ripped him apart like a blade, a sweet, ensnaring blade.
Her arms curled around him, and she dragged him down, close to the hot softness of her body. The warmth of her breath teased the skin on his neck.
“Say my name,” he said.
“Chris,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.
God, he was becoming addicted to hearing his name from her.
Christopher gathered her in his arms and held her close. The fire cast dancing shadows on her body and a golden halo around her head. It was like staring at a supernatural creature, a fairy-tale princess or an enchantress. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The fast pounding of his heart rang inside him, urging him to take her again.
“I want more,” he said so low he wasn’t sure he’d spoken. “I don’t want only an affair. I want you. Always.”
The words surprised him. They came out unbidden from his mouth, but the moment he said them, he knew they were true. And now that he’d got a taste of her, he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her go.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened.
Before she could say anything, he stroked her flushed cheek with his knuckles. “I know we agreed about having an affair, but I’m not going to let you go. I want to do this right. I’ll formally ask your father to court you.”
A shiver coursed through her. She took his hand in an odd, pleading gesture. “Christopher, don’t.”
A flicker of fear lit her eyes.
“Don’t you want to me to court you formally?” Somehow, he managed to hide the hurt in his voice.
The courting was her mother’s plan all along. Her parents would approve. Shouldn’t she be happy?
“It’s happening too fast. I’m not ready for this.”
“You came here because you wished to find a husband.” He caressed her trembling shoulder. Her skin was cold, like the sting in his heart.
“Not me. My parents want to find a husband for me.” Her gaze dropped from his face.
He stopped caressing her. How could he have been so wrong? For a moment, hope had kindled in his heart, and he’d thought she might want to spend more time with him, and who knew, even consider marry him. But she didn’t want him. Not enough to bind herself to him. The fluttery feeling in his chest was one-sided. She only wanted a fumble under the skirts. Nothing else.
“I understand.” Wincing, he picked himself up and donned his trousers, his back to her.
There was a rustle of fabric, then her hand closed around his bicep. “You’re misunderstanding me.”
“No. Everything is clear.” Shrugging free from her grip, he took his shirt. Pain shot up his leg, but he welcomed it this time. He needed it. It reminded him he was alone, and he’d always be.
“Look at me.”
He obliged. Wearing only her flimsy chemise, she stood in front of him. The light of the fire limned her silhouette and ignited her long hair with a crimson hue. The tendrils reached her slim waist, and the breathtaking vision distracted him from the pain of her rejection.
“I need more time.” She folded her arms across her chest as a new shiver rocked her. “You took me off guard.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me now. Once we’re engaged, a whole year will pass before the wedding, but in the meantime, your parents won’t force you to meet other gentlemen. I will not intrude into your life, but we can know each other better. After that year, if you don’t wish to marry me, I’ll leave you alone.”
The hard set of her lips told him she wasn’t convinced. “Please, don’t.”
Her words were like icy blades between the ribs. The pain was spectacular. She’d cut him open, deeper than any knife that had stabbed him. A boulder of shame pressed against his chest. He’d made a fool out of himself. He should’ve known better. His instinct had failed him.
With a stiff bow, he swallowed the agony ravaging his heart. “As you wish.”
He snatched his shoes and jacket and stormed out of the room, ignoring her gaze filled with pity.
