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No. Not yet. Not yet…
“Please,” she whispered, “please.”
His hands shook as he unzipped her pants. “Lift up,” he said hoarsely, and when she did, he pulled the pants down to her ankles, stopped to yank off her boots, then dragged the pants off and threw them aside.
Her panties were lace. White lace, but they were demure, almost modest. Carefully, he drew them down her thighs, her calves, her ankles, groaning as he exposed her to his eyes. The gentle curve of her hips, the delicacy of her belly button, the soft dark curls between her thighs.
He bent to her, kissed her belly button, kissed his way lower, lower, put his mouth against those curls. Her hands flew up to stop him.
“No,” she whispered, “you can’t, you can’t…”
He caught her wrists, nuzzled against her. Her thighs parted and he inhaled her scent, put his mouth to her and kissed her.
“God,” she sobbed, “oh God…”
He found her with his tongue, tasted the sweet essence of her. Woman. Passion. Everything he had ever dreamed or wanted.
She moaned. And then she cried out and bucked against his mouth, and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t wait, couldn’t wait…
He got to his feet. Somehow managed to kick off his boots. Unzipped his fly, shoved down his pants and his shorts, and came down to her again.
“Annie,” he said hoarsely.
She raised her eyes to his.
“Declan,” she answered, and he knew that no matter what lay ahead of them, he would never forget the way she said his name, the way she opened her arms to him.
He said her name again.
Then, slowly, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he eased inside her.
She was hot. Wet. Tight. She was silk and he was steel.
She was the only thing in life that mattered.
His vision blurred. His heartbeat acc
elerated. She was lifting herself to him, her breath coming in tight little puffs. Her hands clutched his biceps…
Suddenly, she went rigid. “Wait,” she gasped.
And then he felt it.
The barrier.
His Annie was a virgin. Sweet Jesus. A virgin.
How could he have forgotten that she would, damn right, be a virgin?
At first, the thought of what she was giving him—her innocence, the very symbol of her womanhood—made him the most special man in the world.
It took barely a second for that idea to crash and burn.
She was a virgin, and that explained everything,
Why she’d always pulled back in the past.
Why she’d seemed so innocent.
