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But, as she began to come down, he started to move, desperate to force her to peak again, stroking a place deep inside he knew would intensify her orgasm.
He kept moving, rolling his hips, gritting his teeth to hold back his own orgasm, determined to claim her, to brand her, to show her she was his. Now and always. But as he struggled to cling on to control the pulse of desperation became overwhelming...and he wasn’t sure who was in charge any more. But, what was even much more disturbing, he wasn’t sure he cared.
The brutal pleasure kept intensifying, battering Lacey, driving her to new heights. Each time she got close, he forced her further, turning her into a throbbing mass of sensation.
A sob escaped, but she refused to beg, digging her fingers into the rough tree bark to hold herself steady, to hold herself upright for the deep internal stroking.
He dragged her hair aside to kiss her nape. His hands caressed her heavy breasts, trapping her for the relentless thrusts. So deep, so overwhelming, but never quite enough to take her over again.
But then one hand glided down, stroking over taut sinews, quivering muscles, and located the pulsing centre of her need at last.
‘Come for me, Lacey,’ he commanded, just as he stroked where their bodies joined.
The wave barrelled through her, splintering pleasure like a tornado, making her shudder and sob.
She heard his grunt of release, the massive erection getting bigger still as he pumped himself into her at last. She was shaking, trembling, as he dragged himself out of her then scooped her shattered body into his arms. But, even as she understood he had destroyed her, she knew she had destroyed him too, his gait uneven, his arms shaking as he carried her into the pool.
They sank together into the cool water to wash off the evidence of their love-making. She flinched, too sore and tender to take the brutal intimacy as he cleaned her.
But she could hear the strain in his voice when he spoke. ‘Look at me, Lacey.’
She opened her eyes to focus on him.
‘Don’t ever go off without telling me where you are again,’ he said.
She could see the grooves of strain around his mouth and the muscle flexing in his jaw, as well as the concern in his eyes.
A part of her understood his command was the only way he could articulate to her that he had been worried about her. But, even as her heart opened on the tidal wave of hope, of possibility, another part of her could hear the subtle hint of ownership in his tone and she knew she couldn’t let him get away with it.
She drew away from him. ‘I’m not a child, Brandon.’
He frowned. ‘Yes, but you are my wife.’
She nodded. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m obliged to tell you where I am every minute of the day.’ Especially as he had tried to treat her on the journey here as little more than a play thing that he could ignore at will.
‘Aren’t you?’ he asked, clasping her wrist to drag her closer and band his arm around her bottom. ‘Well, you damn well ought to be.’
Emotion pulsed deep in her chest. Did he feel it too, this brutal connection, the yearning for more?
‘This may not be a conventional marriage,’ she said, suddenly knowing she had to stand up for herself now, for what this marriage could be, or he would never open himself to her. ‘But it is a marriage of equals.’
Maybe it was still the afterglow—the intensity of their lovemaking—which had left her dazzled and disorientated. But even so she cupped his cheek and let the last of her own defences down as she stared into his eyes—and allowed him to see the hope she was trying to keep in perspective. ‘If you were worried about me, Brandon, you’re allowed to say so. And I’d be happy to put your mind at rest.’
The muscle jumped beneath her palm, but the wary expression on his face only made the emotion pound harder in her chest.
He didn’t love her, not yet. It was far too soon for that. For either one of them. They both had insecurities when it came to making themselves vulnerable. She understood that. But, if they were going to have any kind of a marriage, they needed to be honest about their feelings.
His frown deepened, but then he let out a heavy breath and turned his head to press a kiss into her palm. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I was worried about you. I didn’t know where the hell you were. Is that good enough, Mrs Cade?’
A chuckle popped out of her mouth at his annoyed expression. ‘Absolutely, Mr Cade,’ she said lightly, euphoria gripping her insides. Then, grasping his broad shoulders, she leapt into his arms.
He swore as they both tumbled backwards into the water together. But when they came up for air, both choking and spluttering, a playful smile danced over his sensual lips.
‘You little witch, you nearly drowned us both,’ he said. ‘I should punish you...’
‘You can only punish me if you catch me first!’ She yelped, pushing a wave of water into his face.
She danced away from him, shrieking and laughing as he chased her out of the pond. But, when he finally did catch her, the buzz cut glistening with water, the dimple in his cheek winking at her from the stubble on his jaw and his eyes glittering with amused approval, he looked so damn handsome it made her chest ache.
