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The thrust, the retreat. The friction. The heat.
And the peaks she’d reached before were hills, she saw that now. This was too big, too intense, to bear.
Geraldine wondered if she should have been afraid, but she wasn’t.
There was nothing she wanted more thanthis. Than him.
She arched against him, meeting each thrust. She wrapped her legs around him, dug her nails into his back, and she used his name again and again. A song, a whisper. A moan, a sob.
Because it was bigger every time. It was everything. There was nothing in the world but the enormity of this thing that rushed for her then.
And the pace he’d maintained, ruthless and inexorable, broke. Lionel made a noise, animal and wild, and it took her a moment to understand that he was saying her name this time.
Then there was no rhythm at all.
There was only him inside her, there was only the endless sensation, and her certain knowledge that she would do anything at all to keep going. That nothing could possibly stop them.
That nothing would be worth stopping for—
She felt that mountain slam into her, then throw her—spinning and shimmering—straight out into space.
Until she became the stars.
She could feel the way he said her name edge itself into her, changing her, marking her forever.
She could feel the way he gripped her even tighter, and then scalded her so that her own wild pleasure started all over again.
Geraldine would never be the same. She had known that going in.
But she also knew, as he dropped his head to hers, that she was forever altered. That her heart beat with his and always would, now. That she had fallen recklessly and dreadfully in love, and there was no changing it.
More than that, she knew that she could never tell him. No matter what.
So she told him the only thing she could. Geraldine turned her face to his and though she felt the moisture on her face, she pressed the faintest kiss to his temple anyway. She whispered his name.
Again and again, until Lionel lifted his head, fixed her with a look she recognized now, and started all over again.
CHAPTER TEN
LIONELHADWANTEDHER. He had intended to have her, and so he had.
Over and over again.
What he had not expected was that having her would become an obsession. That she was a kind of need that only deepened and sharpened as time went by.
Thatshewas far more than he had anticipated, in every possible way.
He told himself it was because he’d waited, that was all. It was because of how unfamiliar it had been to find himself wanting something he hadn’t been able to sample at once. Perhaps it was no more than a message, letting him know that he had become far too spoiled by his wealth and the privilege it accorded him to have his every need met instantly.
That was why weeks passed and he was still consumed with her, he assured himself. He was making up for that unexpected deficit.
With no end in sight.
The honeymoon period his grandmother had set for them ended, but nothing changed between them. Lionel found his interest in Geraldine intensified, if anything, which hardly made sense. Familiarity bred contempt. Everyone knew this. It had always been his experience before—but Geraldine was different.
In every possible way, she was different.
For example, Lionel had never brought his women here to the estate, and some had begged him for the chance. But he had always refused, because he had never allowed the women he’d had relationships with access to his life like this.
