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She grabbed the sides of her chemise to rip it open, and his hands landed on top of hers and stopped her. She whimpered in protest. He worked free the small buttons of her chemise.
Once they were bare as newborn babes, he settled her back against the bed. Holding her tight, he rolled her underneath him. He kissed her deeply, groaning. Everywhere his skin touched hers, she tingled. A white-hot need burned in her core.
She gripped his backside, trying to draw him closer to put pressure on that part of her. “What are you waiting for?”
He pulled back and looked down into her hot face. All parts of her were burning.
Brushing back her hair from her face, he squinted at her, then pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. His eyes were so dark, she was lost in them. “You, beautiful.”
Streams of need were flowing through her and gathering in her private place. The stream raged into a river, and she twisted, trying to push against him.
He looked at her and breathed out heavily. Then he tucked his head into her neck as he moved into her. A burst of pain clouded her pleasure. She tried to squirm away, but he held her close.
His lips brushed her ear, and he whispered, “Easy.”
The word contained an odd mix of tenderness and impatience. A rush of sensation flowed through her and gave more heat to that place. She went soft against him.
He pushed harder. Her body gave way as he penetrated her. At first it was strange, but then it was as if she and he were two pieces designed to fit together. Warmth swept through her. They were joined, and it felt so right, so meant to be.
He was breathing hard, but he lifted his head up and stared down into her eyes. His eyes were so dark, she couldn’t tell where his pupils began. His fingers gentle, he stroked her cheek. “Are you all right?”
She was filled with a joy she’d never known before. He was so kind and sweet, so handsome and strong. She nodded. She was. The pain had been just a momentary burst. “Do you always stop at this point?”
His lips curled. “Not usually. You’re special.”
Then he stared down at her a long time. “I meant to take longer.”
“Is it over?” she cried. It couldn’t be over, she felt so undone.
“No. Not by a long shot.” He rocked his hips.
She brushed her hands over his back. His skin was hot and damp, and he shuddered.
He kept looking into her eyes, and heat crept over her face as a new warmth curled around the riot of sensation in her body.
“I’ve wanted you from the first minute I saw you,” he whispered.
“I knew that was not a brotherly hold at the stage office.” She slid her leg up the back of his thigh, relishing the feel of the roughness of his hairs against the smoother skin of her leg.
“Then, too,” he said. He thrust into her again, and his breath hitched.
Her thoughts clouded.
Then he kissed her again, urgently, insistently, deeply, and the storm blew past too fast to be noticed. His hips moved faster, and she tensed, her body singing and straining toward him, toward the intensity of sensation where their bodies were locked together.
He caressed her breasts, grasping and rubbing across her nipples, sending shooting spikes down her body.
Then he stopped kissing her, groaned and scrunched his face as he pumped hard into her. She tightened her hold on him, certain this must be the moment of complete pleasure.
His breathing turned ragged, and the tension left him. His weight pressed her down into the bed. Had he experienced that rapture and she had not? Was that how it was supposed to work?
“Daniel?” She was glad he had found pleasure, warm that she could do that for him, except her body was so alive. She twisted her hips, trying to get him to rock into her more. “Is it over?”
“Not yet...baby.” He kissed her again, slower and surer. Then his lips slipped to her neck.
“Daniel.” She felt frantic, as if he had run ahead of her and she couldn’t catch up and she didn’t even know the destination.
He pulled out, and she sobbed in frustration. She reached down to his backside and tried to rejoin them.
“Shh, Anna, we’re not done.”
“But—”
“I see some freckles I really need to kiss.” His breathing eased into a steadier, slower rhythm.
He very much seemed done, and she wanted to sob in frustration again. They’d been so much a part of each other and now it was as if they were not and she wasn’t ready for it to end.
His mouth moved down her throat and across her collarbone. He caught her hands and pulled them up above her head. He slid his palms down the inside of her arms, over her breasts and down her sides.
“This freckle,” he said. Then he caught her nipple in his mouth.
Liquid gold poured through her veins and to her mound and the part of her that was empty.
“Those aren’t freckles,” she tried to say sternly. But it came out too breathless to sound at all like a reprimand.
“Mmm,” he hummed and flicked with his tongue.
She arched and moaned.
She hadn’t known it would feel so good to have him play with her breasts. He flicked the other nipple with his index finger. She watched his hand on her, his dark hair skimming along her pale skin.
He continued sucking and nipping until she was twisting, holding his head to her breast. She only missed that hard part of him thrusting in her.
After leaving her breast, he repeated his actions on the other, then slipped down and kissed her quivering belly.
“By gum, you’re a redhead down here, too.” His fingers threaded into the hair covering her mound.
She smacked him on the shoulder as he sucked on the inside of her hip bone. “What are...you doing?”
“I’m sure I saw a freckle down here.”
His intent became obvious as he slid lower. “No!”
Then he pressed his lips to the part of her where every sensation called home. She nearly rocketed off the bed, but he had his arms across her thighs, holding her pinned.
“Good...” Words were too shattered to form, let alone say.
He flicked with his tongue, and her thoughts exploded. She tried to form words, form an objection, but the pleasure was so intense she could do nothing but writhe back and forth, moaning, nearly screaming, as he continued to tease that part of her. She lost control of her body as she strained toward and fought the power of what he was doing.
He found a rhythm that made her legs quiver and sensations built to a place she didn’t think she could stand. Then she shattered. Every part of her was throbbing in a pleasure so deep it was like nothing she’d ever thought could happen.
Daniel slid up her body and thrust into her, feeling the last throbs of her release.
She moaned.
Her passion was more than he’d hoped for, almost more than he could handle as he had lost it too quickly, like a green boy, the first time. He rocked into her.
She mewed and draped a limp arm across his shoulders. Her calf slid against the back of his as he made love to her, thrusting slowly this time. Stroking her lovingly instead of grabbing at her. Kissing her freckled nose, each eyelid, and a freckle on her forehead.
He was being greedy, but she enchanted him with her wild cries and the way she made love with every part of her body: her mouth, her busy hands rubbing, exploring, her legs twining around his legs or around his waist, her hips twisting.
He moved into her as deep as he could go.
She gasped and tightened her arms around him.
He hesitated, wanting to be certain it was a good gasp. Her heels dug into his backside, pulling him tight against her, providing the motion when he didn’t.
Wanting to savor her, he kissed the corner of her mouth, but already his control was slipping. He tried to hold back, but the fire and need raged in him until all he could do was give in to the building pleasure. At the same time, he knew it had never been like this. He’d never felt this whole as if she was the part of him he’d been missing his entire life.
Just as he was unable to hold back any longer, she cried out and twisted, her body pulsing around him. Her second orgasm pushed him to a peak higher than the first time.
Totally drained, he collapsed on top of her, and this time he didn’t move. He could sleep for a thousand years.
“Daniel.” She pushed at his shoulder.
He groaned. He was probably crushing her.
She pushed harder. “Daniel!”
He didn’t want to separate from her, so he rolled, taking her with him. She sprawled on top of him, and the weight of her, the touch of her satiny skin, the slide of her hair—amazingly cool in contrast to its fiery color—all were perfect. And his. All his.
“What if they heard me?” she whispered.
Now she was whispering? “The walls are thick. I doubt anyone heard you.”
He stroked her hair.
“But what if they did?” she said to his neck.
What if Rafael had heard? It would be better if the news came from him. But she wasn’t thinking about Rafael. She could only be referring to his mother and Juanita. His mother’s room was across the courtyard, so he doubted she’d heard anything, and Juanita wouldn’t say anything. She’d be glad Anna was with him instead of Rafael.
