“You feel so unbelievably good, Brynn. I can’t—I can’t be slow about this.”
“Hard. Fast. Now,” she said, bucking against him.
He took her at her word, driving into her with all the power and passion she’d suspected lay just underneath his calm exterior. She was helpless to do anything but match his pace and his urgency, driven by her own need to reach the climax that rushed toward her on wings of red-gold flames.
Her body tensed, clenching around him as he took her up and over, and her mind and body exploded into sparkling waves of sensation. She clung to Sean, calling his name over and over, and it goaded him into increasing his pace, until he was thrusting into her so powerfully that a second, stronger wave of climax broke over her just before he roared out his own completion. Shuddering with the force of it, he slowly rocked to a stop, and then he turned on his side and wrapped her in his arms while still inside her.
“You belong with me,” he said, and she nodded, agreeing completely, before she realized what the consequences of it all might be for the future.
“Sean—” she began, but he kissed her again, silencing her insecurities, if only for a while.
His eyes, still glowing with the color of flame, stared into hers, and he reached down with one hand and pulled the quilt over her. “Let me take care of the condom, and then we need sleep. All the rest of it can wait. Please.”
His penis pulsed inside her as if punctuating his request, and she gasped a little bit but then nodded. He was gone and back quickly, and he pulled her back into his embrace as if he’d missed her in even that short time.
“Okay. Let’s get some sleep,” she said, snuggling close, reluctant to spoil the moment with talk of curses or futures. She’d never, ever, felt anything like the incredible magic of Sean’s lovemaking and—just this once—she wanted to forget her problems. She wanted to simply bask in the afterglow.
Serious, independent, responsible Brynn could wait until later. Sensual, decadent, feminine Brynn owned the now. As she lay there with her body tucked against his, she realized that he hadn’t only filled her body, but her heart and soul, too, and she waited for the wave of terror to wash over her at the realization.
It didn’t.
Instead, a sense of complete peace and contentment swept through her, a feeling of belonging. A feeling of home. She wanted this man, and she was beginning to wonder how far she would go to keep him.
ELEVEN
Sean woke to the noon sun slanting through the window shades, turning Brynn’s auburn hair to a glowing coppery red. She slept in his arms, and he stayed quiet and still, not wanting to wake her, content simply to watch her sleep.
She’d turned his life upside down, this magical woman. He, the eternal loner, suddenly wanted to find a way to make room for her in his life. She’d already stolen a place in his heart. Her delicate lashes fluttered as she slowly woke, and she blushed when she glanced down and noticed that his c**k was hard.
“I won’t apologize,” he told her. “I’m always going to be hard when I wake up next to you.”
“Always? Sean, we have to talk about this.”
He hated to see worry in those winter-blue eyes of hers, so he decided to do his best to replace it with passion.
“We could talk about it,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. “Or we could do this.”
With that, he gently rocked his hips up and down, rubbing against her sensitive clit, and he enjoyed it far too much when her eyes glazed over and she gasped.
“Oh! That feels so good,” she said, almost moaning.
Then she flashed a grin and encircled his c**k with one slender hand.
“But if we’re going to distract each other from serious conversation, I think it’s my turn,” she said, gently but firmly stroking the length of his erection up and down, until he was shaking from the effort it took not to come in her hand.
After that, they spent quite a long time distracting each other, both in bed and in her shower, where Sean discovered that a wet, soapy, and slippery Brynn was very distracting indeed.
* * *
Brynn made sandwiches in her cheerful blue-and-white kitchen, casting glances from beneath her lashes at the large, utterly male person who’d made himself at home, in both her house and her life, in the space of only a few days.
“I’ve told you about the curse, at least the short version. Let me give you more than the headlines,” she said, handing him the largest sandwich she’d ever made in her life.
He glanced at it and grinned. “You must think I really worked up an appetite.”
“I sure did,” she blurted out, and then she felt her face go scarlet. “Stop it. Eat your sandwich.”
He laughed, but he picked up his sandwich. After a few bites, he glanced across the tiny kitchen table at her. “Maybe give me the full version?”