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And then it released. Waves went through her body, and she relaxed.
He’d never seen anything more beautiful. Never felt more privileged. It humbled him. And only made him more urgent to be inside her.
“Fleur.” He breathed her name on a hard exhale, his pulse gone wild. “Come with me.”
She went boneless against him, and he scooped her off her feet easily, stripping her clothes off as he laid her in the center of that pristine white duvet. When she was naked, her copper-colored hair spilling over the pillow and her gray eyes following his every movement, he finished unfastening his pants.
Shed them and the rest of his clothes as quickly as possible. Every heartbeat seemed to echo with her name.
Fleur. Fleur. Fleur.
A rapid tattoo of urgency.
He ripped open the box of condoms and sheathed himself. On the bed, Fleur roused from her release, propping herself on her elbow to watch him. And having her hungry eyes on him only made him burn hotter to bury himself in her.
She reached for him as he climbed on top of her. Covering her. Her arms pulled him down, surrounding him in her softness and her scent.
He spread her thighs wider as he positioned himself, his gaze locked on hers when he nudged his way inside. Inch by inch he spread her, going slow and giving her time to adjust, but the fit was tight. Her breathing was fast, her arms clinging to him, and he would have sold his soul before he rushed her.
Still, his arms shook from the need to have more of her. Sweat beaded along his back. His forehead.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she chanted softly to herself as much as to him.
“Are you?” He tilted her chin to look in her eyes, wondering if he’d missed something. “Is it really okay?”
She nodded fast. “Yes. It’s just—” She hesitated, sipping on her lower lip for a moment before she went on. “My second time ever. And it’s been so long.”
The revelation had contradictory effects. He wanted to redo the night and take even more time. Cherish her. But the caveman part of him that wanted to claim her—to imprint himself on her so that she’d never want anyone else—was a primal instinct that was impossible to ignore.
So of course, hewouldignore it. Because he knew better than to act on the caveman side.
“Fleur.” He held himself very, very still while he got command of himself. He should withdraw perhaps. Give her another orgasm.
But while he weighed the options, she arched her back and rolled her hips again. Her breathy sighs coming faster.
“There,” she exclaimed, her gray eyes alight with new fire. New purpose. “I just needed a minute.”
She thrust her hips forward in a move so unexpected he was pretty sure he saw the promised land for a moment.
“Fleur.” Her name was a strangled sound in his throat, his body demanding more. Demanding that he move. Take her.
Never let her go.
“I’m good now,” she vowed, her voice turning sultry as she worked her hips in another thrust intended to erase all his thinking faculties. “I’m ready.”
And he hoped like hell she meant it, because nothing could have prevented him from surging deeper. Again. And again.
But with her slender legs wrapping around him, holding him there, he knew she needed the same thing he did. He cradled her hip with one hand, rocking her closer, finding the rhythm that sent them both catapulting over the edge. The squeeze of her feminine muscles began a moment before his control snapped.
The release rocketed from the base of his spine, steamrolling through him for so long he wasn’t sure his legs could hold him up afterward. He sank to the bed beside her, unwilling to collapse on her but not sure he could bear his own weight for a minute.
In the aftermath, as the world righted itself again and his breathing slowed, he wondered what should happen next. He drew her closer, unable to resist the need to kiss her shoulder. Stroke her tangled hair off her face. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time, her clean skin now dotted with sweat. His and hers.
“You’re thinking so hard, I hear the wheels turning,” she mused from beside him, burrowing closer to lay her cheek on his arm. “Would you mind if we waited to talk about...what just happened? Table it until daybreak maybe?”
His stomach clenched at the words, even as he recognized she was giving him a grace period. A chance to get his head together before they had to face what they’d done tonight. Or—if nothing else—to at least enjoy this cease-fire between them and all the sensual rewards that could come with it.
Still, he couldn’t help suspecting that she was already working out a way to pull away from him. And how messed up was it that he dreaded that thought, even as he, too, weighed how to extricate himself with the least possible damage? He might have screwed up the sale of the ranch. Probably damaged his relationship with his brother irreparably. And as for Fleur herself?
