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Something flared in his gaze then, a deep, male satisfaction and that same hunger she recognized.
“Your wish is my command,tesorina,” he told her. “But first you must say it.”
“What do you want me to say?” She rocked against him again, against that impossible length of his buried so deep inside her, and shivered when sensation swirled through her. Lighting her up from the tips of her ears to the hard points of her nipples, past the molten place where they were connected, down into the toes that curled in the delicate shoes she still wore.
“Tell me,” he urged her, and he pulled back then. Slowly. Slowly and steadily, inch by inch, and it made Brittany flush. Then try to meet him when he reversed himself and sank back into her. Deep and sure. “Tell me that in this, I am your king if no one else’s. That here, you are mine.”
She would have told him absolutely anything just then. Anything at all.
“Yours,” she agreed, her head moving against the bed as he repeated that luxurious slide. Even more intense, delicious sensations coiled in her and flashed like wildfire through her entire body. Again and again. “I’m all yours.”
“You have no idea how true that is,tesorina mia,” Cairo muttered, dark and urgent, and then he really began to move.
And Brittany simply surrendered herself into a mass of pure sensation.
Cairo set a lazy, easy pace, and he encouraged her to meet him. Brittany moved her hips as he directed her, growing bolder with each stroke until she wrapped her legs around his hips.
He built the fire between them high and bright and so intense she didn’t see how anyone could live through it. She also didn’t care. He thrust harder, deeper, and she gloried in it. In him. As if she’d spent her whole life searching for this. As if this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.
As if her body knew things her mind didn’t want to examine.
Still, he urged her on. Still, he swept her along with him, until she was hovering on another precarious cliff of his making.
“I can’t...” she whispered.
“But you will,” he replied, fierce and sure. “For me.”
He reached between them and stroked her where she needed him the most. Brittany tipped her head back and gripped him tight as he pounded into her. Again and again—
Until finally, she hurtled off into nothingness, breaking apart into too many scattered little bits to name.
And this time, he called out her name and followed her right over that edge.
She had the vague notion they floated out in that silken, beautiful darkness together for a very long time. It could have been years.
But Cairo was already up and moving when she finally thudded back into her own skin and opened her eyes again.
“Stay where you are,” he told her, in that bossy tone of voice she thought she really ought to object to.
But she didn’t say a word. Nor did she move. She felt loose and lazy as she lay there on the old four-poster bed. There were all manner of thoughts and problems and issues hovering there, waiting for her to acknowledge them, but she ignored them. She listened to the cries of the seabirds on the other side of the windows instead, wafting in on the sweet summer breeze. She felt the sunlight dance over her face. She imagined she could hear the sea against the rocks, far below.
She felt bright and sunny straight through, as if she could drift away into the blue sky forever.
Cairo came back to her then, and she blinked, because he looked immaculate as he stood there at the foot of the bed. Not a wrinkle, or a hair out of place. As if none of this had happened when she could still feel him between her legs, where she was deliciously tender. She knew that should have bothered her. It should have donesomethingother than make her shudder with a little more of that heat. He moved to put a hand on her belly and she shivered at his touch, then again when he used the cloth in his other hand to tend to her.
“You did not bleed much,” he told her matter-of-factly, and she flushed at that. As if the words were more intimate than the act they’d shared. He tucked the cloth into her panties, pulled them back into place over her hips and then helped her to her feet, smoothing her dress down around her as she stood. “Leave that there until just before you walk down the aisle.”
“What?” She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She stared at the stones, willing it to do just that. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“Brittany.” She couldn’t help but obey him when he used that voice, but he took her chin in his hand to make certain. “You are wearing a very white dress and you will be standing in it before a large congregation and a great many cameras. This is no time for modesty.”
She pulled away then and stepped around him, amazed that her legs held her up when she felt as if she’d been swept away. As if she wasn’t entirely herself anymore.
As if the mask she’d worn all her life had shattered, leaving her with nowhere to hide.
“This was a mistake,” she said, sounding stilted to her own ears. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
It took everything she had to pull herself together. To lift her chin, run her hands over her veil, manage to smooth out her expression. She moved to the mirror and was as amazed as she was oddly disappointed that she looked exactly the same. The same as she had before he’d come into this room and more, wholly unruffled. As if nothing had happened between them but a little chat, like all the other little chats they’d had over the past weeks. All she needed to do was reapply her lipstick and no one would ever be the wiser.
