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Unable to resist the command, I opened them in time to see him rising from his position on the floor, his eyes blazing.
There was nothing left of his cold armour, nothing left of the glacier. He was burning with a raw heat that ignited me, burning my self-consciousness abruptly to the ground.
I had done that to him. While he might have broken me, and left me shattered, I had also broken him. I—short, plain, Jenny Grey—had broken the most powerful and feared man in Europe.
I pushed myself up, not bothering to cover myself. I didn’t look away. I met his gaze and held it.
He didn’t look away either, his hands dropping to his belt. He didn’t rush. He took his time undoing it.
My mouth was dry, desire gathering inside me despite the shattering orgasm he’d already given me not moments ago.
This is a mistake. You know this will never be enough for you.
Maybe. But it was too late now. He’d asked me to be his wife and I’d accepted. And no power on earth would make me take it back.
‘I want you, Jenny. Right here. Right now.’
Ferocious intensity burned in his eyes and I knew it was for me.Becauseof me. And that gave me power, a confidence I hadn’t known was inside me until now.
‘Yes,’ I said thickly. ‘Yes, please.’
His hands dropped away, his belt undone. I leaned forward, my fingers shaking as I undid the button on his trousers and unzipped his fly. I could feel the pressure of his gaze on me. He was watching me so avidly it was amazing I didn’t combust on the spot.
‘Your hands are shaking.’ His voice was deep and laced with heat. ‘Are you nervous?’
‘No.’ And it wasn’t a lie. ‘I just...want you.’
‘Then take what you want.’ His hands drifted to my hair, his fingers curling gently through it as if he relished the feel of it. ‘I will be your husband and you can take from me as I take from you.’
Yet more confidence filled me, and I spread the fabric of his trousers, reaching to touch the long, hard ridge I could see beneath the fabric of his underwear. I felt him tense as I stroked him, my fingers trembling a little at being able to. That night in the garden everything had happened so quickly. It had been over before I’d known what was happening. But now I could touch him. Now I could see him.
I’d fantasised about him for so long, and now he was here the reality was...indescribable.
I drew him out. He was hot in my palm, and satin-smooth, and as I curled my fingers around him he made a harsh, very male sound. He reached down and pulled my hand away. The look on his face was drawn tight, his cheekbones etched, his jaw hard. He looked fierce, and hungry, like a wolf who’d gone without food for too long.
He didn’t speak, pushing me gently but firmly back onto the cushions of the window seat. Then he slid his large, warm hands beneath my rear and lifted me, positioning himself. He pushed inside me in one smooth, hard movement, filling me completely, tearing a gasp of agonised pleasure from my throat.
He leaned forward, easing deeper, his gaze on mine as he placed his hands on the cushions on either side of my head. His black eyes were a furnace, burning me alive, while the pressure of him inside me made it hard to breathe. I’d forgotten how big he was, how the pressure and the exquisite stretch of my sex around his made everything sharper and more intense.
It was glorious. He was glorious.
He didn’t speak, only looked fiercely down at me as he began to move, and I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. I was locked in his gaze, held there as surely as his body pinned me to the cushions.
He set a hard, relentless rhythm, sending fierce pleasure spiralling through my veins, and I reached up to grip his wrists, bracing myself against the shocks of his hot, hard body. He was still fully dressed, while I was only in a bra, and I found that so erotic. Especially as his gaze raked down my body, watching as I writhed beneath him, every movement he made coiling the pleasure tighter and tighter.
I could see he liked it, that it gave him pleasure to watch me, and that fed my pleasure too. I’d never had a man watch me the way he did, obviously liking what he saw. I’d never had anyone look at me with such possessive ferocity either.
He moved faster, harder, his teeth bared in a savage smile as he leaned down. ‘Come for me, my Jenny,’ he growled, before his mouth covered mine and his hand reached between my thighs to where we were joined, and he stroked me. Once. Twice.
I detonated, screaming his name against his mouth as the orgasm swept over me, turning me over and over and dragging me under.
Dimly I heard him make a harsh, guttural sound, felt his body slamming hard into mine, before he slumped on top of me, crushing me into the cushions.
He was heavy, but I didn’t care. Once again he’d shattered me, all the pieces of me scattered on the winds and his weight the only thing holding those pieces together.
I didn’t move, content to lie there under him, secure and safe beneath his heat.
Yet after a moment I wriggled under him and eventually he shifted, pushing himself up and away from me. I tried to sit, but he put a hand out, pinning me in place.
