heaven she was as ready as he was.
If she hadn’t been, he’d have hurt her or made a fool of himself.
But she was, and she embraced him. “Ah, Wolfe,” she whispered, her breath hot against his cheek as she shifted, settling him in.
Dominic’s eyes squeezed shut against the overpowering sensation and clung desperately to the last shreds of control. He didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not yet.
Not if he wanted it to be good for her, too. Not if he wanted to shatter her the way she could so easily shatter him.
He took a careful breath and held it. Held it. Held it.
Sierra went still, too. Silent. Her body wriggled. He bit his lip. Hung on.
A finger touched the small of his back. “Wolfe?”
“What?” He said the word without moving, without breathing.
Muffled laugh. “You are still alive. I thought you were dead!”
“Dead!” He reared up, outraged.
But Sierra held him fast. She wrapped her arms around him, giggling, as she wriggled beneath him, then pressing her heels against the backs of his thighs, urging him closer, seating even him deeper inside her.
And that was all it took.
That small movement. That slight friction—and he was a goner. He surged against her, once, twice—and came with a shuddering, shattering climax that left him weak and wrung out and feeling like a fumbling teenager instead of a thirty-six-year-old man.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry.”
He tried to pull away, to come to grips. But Sierra hung on. She kissed his sweat-slick shoulders. She caressed the damp skin of his back. Her fingers kneaded his buttocks. And Dominic felt small shudders course through him at the same time they seemed to ripple through her.
Was she?
Her fingers clenched. Her nails dug into his butt. Her heels pressed hard against the backs of his thighs.
Had she?
Lord, what kind of moron was he that he couldn’t tell? Didn’t know?
“Ahhhhh,” she breathed. “Yessssss.” And then she gave a long sigh and her fingers relaxed. She rubbed her foot down his leg, then nuzzled his neck. Her body seemed to settle and soften beneath him. And then he realized that the weight of his body was resting on hers and quickly he rolled away.
This time Sierra let him go. But not far. Just far enough so that she could turn onto her side and snuggle into him. He felt her lips graze one of his nipples and his hand came up involuntarily and stroked her hair.
“Dominic?”
That surprised him as she rarely called him anything but Wolfe. His hand stilled. “What?” he asked warily.
Her eyes were still closed, but he felt her smile against his chest. “That was very nice.”
Nice!? As a lover he was “nice”?
Actually he supposed he was lucky she thought that highly of him. He certainly hadn’t taken much trouble seeing that her needs were met.
“It will be better,” he muttered.
“No.” She shook her head slightly. “Couldn’t be.” She kissed him.
And then she slept.
Dominic didn’t sleep.
He lay there and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort things out.
This was the later during which he was supposed to be fixing dinner and going over the papers he needed to look at before morning. But Sierra was asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to disturb her.
That was why he didn’t move. It had nothing to do with how much he liked just lying there holding her. It had nothing to do with how much he wanted Sierra still.
He didn’t like that he wanted Sierra.
Sex was one thing. But just lying here holding her was something else. That felt…committed.
Dominic wasn’t about to get committed.
Not in his heart.
He’d be faithful. It was just good sense to be faithful. It was fair. Dominic believed in being fair. He had no intention of looking at any other women. He had no desire at all to sleep around. Even if he should ever feel such a desire he wouldn’t do it. Because he’d made a vow.
He believed in vows.
What he didn’t believe in was letting anyone into his heart.
He wasn’t letting Sierra into his heart.
Even thinking about such a thing annoyed him. He wasn’t used to even considering the possibility. He wasn’t used to wanting one this much. And he wasn’t used to having mixed emotions about it.
He wasn’t really used to emotions at all.
After the disaster with Carin, he’d built a good strong wall between himself and the women in his life. He played with them, but he never let them matter. He never fell in love.
And he still hadn’t, he assured himself.
Of course he hadn’t. Imagine