wicked smile against my mouth. “I said, ‘Is this all right?’”
“Oh—ah!” I tensed again as he pressed forward perhaps an inch more, then stopped. “Why do you always ask me that?”
“You know why.” He slipped in a little more, taking his time, giving me a few moments to adjust at each stage. Another tender kiss. Another inch forward. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I lifted my head, capturing his lower lip between my teeth, biting lightly. “You won’t. Just do it.” I bit again. “Matthew, I need you.”
He hissed his accord and then captured my mouth with his all over again as suddenly, he rammed the rest of the way inside.
The sudden force knocked my head against the wood slats, but I didn’t notice. Suddenly, he was moving, steady and deep, and I could not think of anything else but the fact that I was here. He was in me, filling my deepest, secret spaces.
“Squeeze me,” Matthew ordered in a ragged voice as his hands found my thighs and urged them around his trim waist. “Tight, Nina. Put all that Pilates to good use.”
Without thinking twice, I hooked my heels together and squeezed as hard as I could, pulling him inside completely. He needn’t have waited. I was slick with need, had been ready for him for hours.
“Fuck!” he croaked as he surged into me again and again.
“I want to touch you,” I moaned with every deep thrust. His body was slippery against mine, the friction of our meeting driving me closer and closer.
But I didn’t want to do it alone. Something was wrong. I didn’t want to be trapped anymore. When I toppled over that nameless edge, I wanted to bring him with me. In my arms, not just carried in his.
“Then free yourself,” he said, breath warm, voice low against my ear. “You want your freedom, my gorgeous girl? You gotta fuckin’ earn it.”
I shook my head from side to side, unable to take much more. “Please, Matthew. Just let me go. I want to come with you.”
But instead of doing what I asked, he just kept going, merciless in his rhythm. “You didn’t even fight, duchess. Why don’t you find out what happens when you do?”
His eyes gleamed as he pushed himself to his knees, still keeping my legs around him as he moved, a bit slower now.
He was the carrot, I realized. All I had to do was grab.
And so, tentatively at first, then a bit more insistently, I started trying to work my wrists out of the tight binding that trapped them. I wriggled and moved, and to my surprise, the silk began to loosen.
“It’s coming free!” I grinned as with each movement, the tie around my arms loosened until it had unraveled completely. At last I was free, and the energy from that feeling caused me to fly up and into his arms, forcing him to topple onto his seat as he caught me. We were still joined, but now I was the one on top, the one who drove the pace.
I ground down, taking him even deeper, and his mouth found my breast once more, sucking deeply, echoing the rhythm of our bodies.
“Oh, God,” I cried as my head tipped back. His strong arms kept me upright, along with my fierce grip on his thick hair. “Please, Matthew. Oh God, I’m so close!”
Matthew’s hand slipped between our bodies, but I didn’t need it as I flew again and, this time, took him with me. This man in my arms, and me in his.
It was and would always be enough.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The moon had risen high above the trees by the time we stopped to catch our breath again. Matthew and I lay together in the big, rumpled bed watching the shadows from the moonlight slowly cross our bodies while casting us both in its cool blue glow. For the first time in days, I was able to enjoy the plush, yet comfortable surroundings of the guesthouse, decorated as it was with oversized pillows, bright white and gray paints, and farmhouse furniture with just the right amount of weathering.
“This is what I used to want my home to be like,” I said, waving a hand around the cabin.
“This small?” Matthew joked. “I can’t really see you making do with a thousand-square-foot cabin, doll.”
I shook my head. “Well, no, not that part. Although in New York, there are plenty who do.”
He grunted in response, clearly feeling that should have been self-explanatory.
“I meant the feel of it,”