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Had Nick really muttered that? As Deidre lay there shaking, helpless in the clutch of desire, she had a sneaking suspicion that even if it had been her imagination, it’d been the truth.
* * *
He looped his arm beneath her as she shuddered, wanting to absorb every shiver of pleasure racking her body. He brought her against his chest, his hand still between her thighs. His jaw clenched tight at the sensation of her small breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples hard with arousal. Her skin was exquisitely soft. He hadn’t been lying when he’d whispered he’d never felt anything like it. He experienced an overwhelming desire to feel every square inch of it sliding against his own skin, against his fingertips, his lips...his tongue.
Her tremors of release eased. She was small, feminine and soft, yet her muscles felt sleek and strong beneath his touch. Her curves fit his hand like she’d been built to specification.
She parted her lips, panting. He plucked at her mouth with his own, his hunger swelling at the sight of Deidre’s face dewy with release. He stroked her skin while she calmed, soothing her until he couldn’t take the ache of his desire a second longer.
He whipped his shirt over his shoulders and attacked the belt on his jeans. She murmured something unintelligible and started to help him, her fingers twining with his as he unfastened his fly. He hissed when her fingers brushed against the hard ridge of his arousal.
She glanced up at him, her eyes looking enormous in her flushed face. She held his gaze while she traced his contour through his clothing.
It was too much for him. He could endure a lot. He had endured a lot, keeping himself on a straining leash when it came to his attraction to her. But witnessing renewed desire replace satiation on Deidre’s face while her fingers learned his shape shattered his restraint completely.
He muttered a curse under his breath and shed his remaining clothing like it’d caught fire. He hurriedly located a condom in his wallet.
She opened her arms to him when he came down over her. He groaned at the feeling of her warm, silky skin pressing against his. Entering Deidre was torture and bliss blended. He took her mouth in a kiss, glorying in how she sensed his need, rose to it and matched his passion.
“You’re so small,” he whispered next to her mouth in a choked voice a few seconds later. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, Nick.”
Her hands glided across his hips, giving him her assurance...
...her blessing.
He applied pressure and closed his eyes, begging for the strength to endure the agonizing sweetness of the moment. Sweat beaded his brow. Her body’s embrace was tight and warm and every bit as perfect as the rest of her.
Nick had a fleeting thought before he was swept away by torrential pleasure. Fusing his flesh to Deidre’s felt like returning to a home he never knew he’d had.
* * *
Later, they lay with their limbs entwined. Deidre felt sublimely surrounded by Nick. The scent of him filled her nose. Their pounding hearts pressed close, slowing in tandem. Her eyelids grew heavy as he stroked her hair.
“Are you asleep?” he asked after a while.
“No,” she whispered. She burrowed her face between his neck and shoulder and kissed him, smiling to herself when his hold on her tightened. “I think you might have been right.”
“About what?”
She lifted her head and lay it on the pillow next to his, meeting his stare. “It is sort of hard to regret something like that.”
She pressed her lips against the ghost of a smile on his mouth. “Not hard. Impossible,” he said, before their mouths fused in a melting kiss.
“Can I ask you about a sensitive topic?” he asked her quietly a while later.
“Not the will, I hope?”
“No. Maybe an even more sensitive issue. Your mother. And you.”
Her gaze flickered up to meet his. “I know you noticed I was uncomfortable when Addy McGraw was asking questions about Brigit and me. I guess that Lincoln told you that my mother’s and my relationship is...strained?”
Nick nodded.
“Mom kept her affair with Lincoln and my paternity secret, both from Derry and me. I haven’t really spoken to her for most of my adult life,” she admitted, feeling the familiar mixture of defiance and hurt rise up in her. “I realized when we were out there at McGraw Stables that Brigit never shared her love of horses with us because of her guilt. She associated horses with Lincoln and her infidelity.”
“Were you and your mother close, before you had the falling-out?” Nick asked as he rubbed her shoulder in a soothing gesture.
