too soon and traveled down her tight stomach. He brought his other hand around at the same time, so they both gripped low on her hips. Her heart thudded as she waited, wanted. And she got what she craved when he pulled her in tight and ground his erection into the top of her pussy. “Here, I do not want to go; I need to go.”
Yes, she moaned silently. Just for a little while. Until he’s better, she promised herself. She could experience the earth shattering pleasure of being with him a couple of times while spending a day or two in a place she knew she’d find fascinating. Then, before she could witness his interest in her waning—or become attached, as she was so afraid she could do with him—she would convince him to take her home, and she’d force herself to move on. Something she knew very well she hadn’t been doing.
Move on to what?
The question echoed quietly in her head but she heard it as if it was screamed. Felt it. Right down deep in her soul. Maybe she was the crazy one, because as dangerous and foolish as it was, moving on from this man wasn’t something she wanted to do.
“I should continue arguing but I won’t. I’ll just hope your conscience comes out of hiding at some point and kicks your ass for doing things this way.”
“My conscience cannot come out of hiding, Yasmeen. He is dead.”
He grabbed her by the upper arms and practically lifted her off her feet as he brought her to the ornate bed with its canopy of hanging sheers. He threw her face-first into a soft cloud of cream linens and tasseled pillows. Her hair fell over her eyes so she didn’t see that he’d come down with her until she felt his heavy weight land on her. His hands were suddenly everywhere. He wasn’t gentle. His voice wasn’t anywhere near tender as he rumbled a continuous stream of something she couldn’t understand because he was speaking Romanian. All she made out was Markus’s name intermingled with the odd curse in English. Her one funeral dress was ruined, torn down the back and ripped away from her body. He left her in her underwear, stockings, and heels.
He barely shifted to remove his own clothes, but skin finally met skin and the first moan to escape was hers.
“Yes, pet. You will give me what I need, hmm?”
Yes. Because you want me.
He spread her legs by inching them apart with his knees, teasing now. She started when she felt two of his fingers drag down from her tailbone and get between her legs where he soon learned the extent of her arousal. He hooked her damp thong over one cheek then swatted the globe hard enough to make her cry out. Desire burst from her pulsing core.
The second moan to come from her sounded when he burrowed that large hand under her navel to lift her, positioning her for entry. The third was one of relief and pleasure when she once more experienced the incredible sensation of this man connecting their bodies. After two long years of remembering and wishing she could have this again, the speed with which he took her was a beautiful gift he gave without even realizing it.
He thrust his strong hips, slowly dragging his smooth head through her wetness a few times before pumping straight in. He wrung the most desperate sounds from her as he stretched her pussy. The jagged, panting gasps made it clear an orgasm was already hovering. That easily. His long fingers grasped her jaw and wrenched her head back. He did that thing again when he pressed their mouths together, but he didn’t kiss her.
“You’ve been waiting for me,” he said in a knowing tone that made her want to swat him.
But how could she deny it? Despite what he’d done to get her here, she couldn’t hide the fact that her body was celebrating this reunion. She was dripping with arousal, her skin singing where it touched his, her heart slamming in time with the erratic thud of his as it beat against her back. Just like the last time, within moments, she was wrapped up in this man who feared no one but God. She felt as if she’d come home.
The thing was, she’d never had a real home, so how could she recognize such a thing in someone who saw her as nothing more than a temporary distraction?
“Yasmeen.”
She squeezed