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What else could possibly matter?
He reached between them and pulled her dress up and out of his way. She made a soft, high sound, but when their gazes clashed she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Then rocked her hips against him as he settled himself between her soft, leanly muscled thighs in wordless welcome.
God help him, but she was perfect.
He leaned in close and took her mouth with his, with all the desperate ruthlessness of a man about to explode. Her taste washed through him, sweet woman and all Brittany. He lost himself in the sheer perfection of it. He tasted her again and again, then angled his head for a hotter, slicker fit and did it all over again.
She lifted herself to meet him, her tongue meeting his and then driving him slowly, inevitably, gloriously insane.
Cairo had been acting a part for a long time. He’d pretended to be lost in a thousand kisses, usually for the benefit of the cameras that always waited nearby. But there were no cameras here and the longer he indulged himself in this woman, the more he forgot he’d ever treated a kiss like a stage.
This time, he really was lost.
He wanted her naked. He wanted her without a stitch of clothing on her perfect, delectable body, spread out before him like the feast she was. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to wallow in sensation, bathe in passion, throw himself completely into this woman and never come up for air—
But the bodice stopped him. It was a piece of understated elegance, embroidered and close-fitting, and it penetrated the fist of need that had him locked in its grip. Just enough to remember that there were people waiting. That there were other things he needed to do to Brittany today, like marry her.
He could think of only one thing he wanted more, just then.
He deepened the kiss. His mouth mated with hers, taking her and taunting her. Making her flush and buck against him, her hands clutching at him and urging him on.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
“I’ve been ready for weeks,” she retorted, as he should have expected.
Cairo reached down between them and worked at his trousers, then smoothed his hand back beneath her silken panties, still beautifully damp from before. She was still molten hot and mind-numbingly soft, and she washis.
He’d been waiting for this moment since the moment he’d seen her picture, so long ago now. He’d longed for this since the night they’d met in Monte Carlo. He’d imagined this a thousand different ways since she’d walked out on him that night and left him to stew in his own wild need.
Cairo had never wanted another woman more.
He lined himself up with her slick, ready entranceat last,then thrust himself home.
* * *
It hurt.
He was huge and hard and so deep inside her, and the sensation that burst within her was too much.Too much.
Brittany went stiff, unconsciously slamming her hands in fists against his chest, and Cairo froze.
She’d imagined she could play it off. She’d been so sure that all her years of dancing would have loosened her up, made this a nonissue, the way so many of the other girls had claimed it had for them. She’d wanted him so much that she’d been positive she could simply throw herself into this thing without him pausing or even noticing that it was her first time.
But his eyes were dark and faintly accusing as they met hers now. His beautiful face was taut. He held himself very, very still above her, but there was no mistaking the steel length of him still sunk deep inside her, or the utter foreignness of the big, hard, decidedly male body nestled tight between her thighs.
He was stretching her. He was inside her and he was stretching her and she couldfeel himeverywhere. With every shuddering breath she took.
But far worse than that, he had definitely noticed.
Brittany felt tears pool in the corners of her eyes, when she hadn’tcriedin longer than she could remember, and she couldn’t believe she felt soundone.
“Do you care to explain this turn of events?” Cairo asked, conversationally, which only made that particular hot gleam in his eyes seem more dangerous.
She tried to blink back the tears in her eyes and swallow down that lump in her throat, but only made a snuffling sort of sound instead. Shesnuffled.She was flat on her back in the most beautiful wedding dress she’d ever seen, His Serene Grace the Archduke Felipe Skander Cairo of Santa Domini braced above her and deepinsideher, no longer a virgin no matter what happened next if she understood the mechanics of these things correctly, and she’dsnuffled.
Like some kind of animal.
“Do not cry,” he ordered her. His gaze gentled as it met hers and it was astonishing how comforting Brittany found that. “Don’t you dare cry,tesorina.You have lived through far worse things than me, I am confident.”
