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He rode her harder, faster. She held her breath, feeling dizzy as joy lifted her higher and higher still. Until suddenly, as he filled her to the hilt, pleasure exploded inside her, flinging her past the sky, into the stars.

CHAPTER FOUR

RODRIGO LOOKED DOWN at Lola as she cried out with pleasure, her face incandescent with joy. He gripped her shoulders, barely keeping himself from exploding into her.

He’d thought he could keep his distance, to make this about their bodies, only about sex. He was wrong. It wasn’t just her body.

It was her face. Her voice. It was her.

Lola.

The only one he’d wanted. The one he’d dreamed about for the last year, in hot, unwilling dreams. Every morning, he’d woken up, still aching for her.

Now, at last, she was his. Forever.

And you’re mine, she’d said.

Her claim washed through his soul. He trembled. He gloried in his possession of her.

But he could not surrender in his turn. Could not give himself fully. Not to Lola, or any woman.

But his hands were shaking as he gripped her. When he saw her burst with pleasure, a rush went through his body, through his soul, with a pounding roar.

Cupping her face in his hands, he said urgently, “You’re mine forever. You’ll never betray me. Say it.”

“I’ll never betray you,” she said breathlessly, her beautiful face rosy with passion, her half-lidded eyes bright with ecstasy. And he believed her.

Lowering his lips against hers, he felt a searing joy—almost like pain—as his heart cracked inside him, like steel in sparks of flame. He wanted to trust her. He wanted to. She was his wife now. His—

And in that moment, for the first time in his life, Rodrigo lost control.

Gripping her hips, he gave in to the pleasure punching through him with violent force, knocking out his breath. A low growl built into a roar as he shattered, shuddering as he poured himself inside her.

And he collapsed.

When Rodrigo finally came back to awareness, it could have been minutes or hours later. He found himself tenderly holding her body against his own. Their bodies were intertwined, and he saw the warm, fading glow of twilight.

As he held Lola in his arms, joy went through him. It was as if the last miserable year had just been a bad dream.

Then he saw the motes of dust moving lazily in the light, like flickers of gold floating softly to the floor. And he remembered—everything.

Remembered why he could never trust any woman.

Especially now. They were married. They had a child. There was too much at stake.

He couldn’t let down his guard. Because every time he did...

Pain cut through him, even more overwhelming than the pleasure had been. Suddenly shaking, he withdrew his hands from where they’d rested so cozily, so tenderly, on her body.

Rodrigo had thought he could have sex with a cold heart. But the joke was on him. He’d thought he could take her like a conqueror. Instead, after a year of mutual hunger, she’d matched his fire, and they’d burned together like a phoenix rising to the sun. It hadn’t just been physical, but almost holy.

Far from conquering her, he’d wanted to give her—everything.

Slowly getting out of bed, he silently backed away. But as he picked up his trousers and boxers from the tile floor, he heard her lilting, husky voice.

“Where are you going now?”

His spine snapped straight. He turned to face her.

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