The Tycoon's Rebel Bride - Maya Banks Page 0,45

“So restless and out of my skin. You make me crazy, Bella. I have to have you.”

“Yes.”

The softly whispered surrender slid from swollen lips. His mouth skated downward to her neck and then over the slope of her shoulder.

He moved, lowering his body so that his lips found her breasts. She stared up at the ceiling, the intricate painting blurring as pleasure overtook her. For several long seconds, he lazily tongued the rigid peaks, and then he blazed a wet trail with his tongue down her midline to her belly.

He toyed with her belly ring for the briefest of seconds before traveling even lower.

She tensed when his mouth found her soft femininity, the very essence and core of her womanhood. Helplessly she arched into him, seeking more of his bold tongue. He chuckled and gave her another soft nuzzle.

“Please, Theron,” she begged. “Take me.”

“I want you to be ready for me, Bella mou,” he said as he trailed one finger over her damp flesh.

“Take me,” she said again as she looked down and met his gaze. “I’m yours.”

Her words seemed to push him beyond his control. He slid up her body, spreading her legs and fitting himself to her in one deft movement. One moment he was probing, the next he slid inside her, breaking through the slight resistance as though it were nothing.

For a moment she went rigid with shock, only a twinge of pain, but more than that a sense of such fullness that it overwhelmed her. Her eyes flew open, and her hands went reflexively to his shoulders to push him away.

Theron stared at her in confusion even as his hips moved, and he thrust forward again. She relaxed beneath him, letting her hands glide over his shoulders and to his neck. Pleasure, sweet and yearning, bloomed, spreading like fire in the wind.

His lips found hers again in a gesture of reassurance, molding sweetly to hers, suddenly gentle and tender.

“Move with me, agape mou,” he urged. “Wrap your legs around me. Yes, that’s it.”

Her skin came alive, crawling and edgy with need. Theron planted his elbows on either side of her head and held his body off her enough that she didn’t bear the full brunt of his weight as he moved between her legs.

Breathing became hard. She panted against his lips as their mouths met again.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Helpless to do anything but follow the winding pleasure building so earnestly, she cried out as he stiffened above her. He gathered her softly against him, crushing her to his hardness. Murmured words fell against her ears, some she understood, some slipping away.

And then he collapsed, pressing his warm body to hers. For several long seconds, their ragged breathing was the only sound that filled the room.

Then he raised his head to stare down at her. He kissed her lightly then shifted, easing his body from hers. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched lazily from the bed while he strode nude to the bathroom and returned a moment later with a washcloth.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.

She sat up and reached for the cloth, but he held it out of her reach and then brushed it gently over her skin to clean her.

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” she returned quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There was no recrimination, no accusation in his voice.

“I wasn’t entirely certain you’d believe me.”

“And so you let me ravage you when you should have been handled gently? Made love to and cherished?”

There was genuine regret on his face. Not that he’d made love to her, if she had to guess, but for what he considered his rough treatment of her.

She reached out and touched his face, enjoying the feel of the slight stubble on his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me, Theron. It was perfect.”

He dropped the cloth on the floor and then framed her face in his hands. “No, it wasn’t perfect, but I can make it that way.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a tenderness that made her chest ache. Desire fluttered deep within, awakening and unfolding, reaching out.

He took his time, lavishing kisses and caresses over every inch of her body. He murmured endearments and praise, each one landing in a distant region of her heart that she’d reserved only for him.

She soaked up each touch, each word like parched earth starved for water.

And when he cupped her to him, sliding carefully into her wanting body, she knew she’d never loved him more than she