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He tugged on her shirt, slipping it over her head, and then unhooked her bra. She drew in a breath at the intense look in his eyes and the tender way he touched her—like she was fragile and would break.
“Are you sure?” His breath caressed her skin like a warm breeze. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can still tell me to go, and I will.”
She shivered and silenced his words with a single finger over his lips. She did not want him to go. She did not want to be cautious any longer or have regrets. She’d grown weary of worrying about a future she could not control. She only wanted the here and now and the solid presence of Tristan to relieve the ache of loneliness and fear inside her. She needed to be selfish for once in her life—to take what he offered freely and to not think about the consequences. To touch him and be touched.
“I’ve never been surer of anything,” she whispered.
He scooped her from the bed, rising up so that the room seemed to sway, and all she could do was cling tightly to his neck.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he carried her through the doorway and down the long hallway.
“To my room,” he said, heading through the doorway and laying her down on the biggest bed she’d ever seen. “We’ll have a little more leg room here.”
“I’ll say,” she laughed, spreading her arms wide.
He laid down and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve dreamt of having you here in my bed.”
“You…you have?” The admission had her blushing.
For an answer, he pulled her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, which had the immediate effect of creating a coiling tension inside her. It was a sensual, pleasurable sensation, and made her long for the feel of him moving inside her.
She would have to wait.
He would not be rushed, despite how much she writhed and twisted and rubbed against him. He finished suckling her finger, then moved to her palm and arm and neck before finding her breasts. His teeth nipped and grazed her nipples like he was feasting on a banquet.
She moaned, and he paused before bending to suckle her again, slow and agonizingly attuned to her every reaction. She gasped and gyrated under his touch, running her hands up the broad muscles of his back to wrap around his neck and press him close. Liquid heat spread between her legs, igniting a raging fire inside her.
“Please, Tristan. Please. I need you.”
“Yes,” he said and shrugged out of his shirt, tugged out of his pants with a little help from her. And then he rose above her like some Greek god of old, moving into her, hard and deep and oh so glorious, and she forgot everything except how right they felt together and how much she needed him.
His Lillian lay sprawled across the comforter, gloriously naked and vulnerable. Funny how he thought of her as his after such a short time. There was still so much to learn about her.
He traced the mole on her stomach, the curve of her hip, enjoying the softness of her skin and the contrast between her pale tone and his darker one.
She shivered, and he pulled the blanket up and curled her into his side, throwing one leg over hers and rising up on his elbow to view her expression. “Cold?”
She blinked, granting him a flash of emerald—contacts, he reminded himself—before closing her eyes as if to hide from his gaze. “A little.”
There would be no more hiding from this day forward. No more secrets. He would not allow it. He willed her to confide in him, to trust him with the truth of her situation so he could reassure her he would do everything in his power to protect her.
“What are you thinking?” She watched him, wariness in her expressive eyes.
He decided honesty was the best course of action. “That you’re beautiful. That I’ve been wanting to make love to you since we first met. That although it’s only been a few days since we met, I think I’m falling for a blonde-haired, green-eyed siren who refuses to reveal her whole self to me.”
She lowered her eyes but stayed put, which he took as a promising start.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” he said.
She raised her gaze to his, some secret emotion swirling in their emerald depths. “I don’t, either.”
He smoothed a hand across her forehead. “I won’t force you to stay, but I’d like you to. Whatever this is that’s happening between us, I don’t ever want it to end.” He placed her hand over his pounding heart. “You must feel it, too.”
“Yes.”
He tugged on a strand of her hair. “Will you remove this and show me what you look like? I don’t want barriers between us. I want to see your whole self.”
“I…I’m not quite ready.”
