Could she?
Should she?
“I am afraid,” she confessed.
“Afraid of what?” He kissed her cheeks, and she was ashamed to realize she was weeping, the tears silently seeping from her eyes and slipping down. He caught them with his lips, as if he could stay her sorrow. Make her heart whole again. “Tell me,cariad. We are one now, you and I. Forever joined together. Let me make it better.”
“I am afraid to let myself love you.” She held his gaze, too prideful to look away.
A wet lock of golden hair had fallen over his brow at a rakish angle, and she tenderly brushed it aside, feeling connected to him in a new way. The love she had been doing her utmost to restrain was breaking free. Beating in her heart. Surging through her like the sun lighting the skies after days of wretched gloom and rain.
He took her hand in a tender grasp, bringing it to his bare chest, and settled it over his heart. “Don’t be afraid,cariad. My heart belongs to you, and it always will. Do you feel it beat for you?”
She absorbed the steady, reassuring thumps. “I feel it.”
“It is yours. I am yours.” He kissed her, his lips nothing more than a whisper over hers before it was over. “I love you, sweet Izzy. I love your clever wit, your boldness, your passion, your love for your family.”
It was too much.Hewas too much. Her heart was overflowing with wonder and hope and love, heaps and heaps of it.
“Oh Zachary.” She kissed him, overcome by his words, the undeniable love she saw shining in his eyes. Kissed him without the gentle prowess he had displayed. Kissed him hard, almost painfully, the sharpness of her own teeth cutting into her lip in her furor.
But he did not seem deterred by her clumsy ardor. He made a low sound of satisfaction and tangled his fingers in her hair, angling her head so that he could deepen the kiss and take control. He licked into her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers, and he tasted of the orangery fruit they had fed each other in bed. Sweet and luxurious and seductive.
Her need for him was every bit as sudden and fierce. She moved against him, seeking relief and finding the rigid length of his cock. Shamelessly, she rocked forward, kissing him until they were both breathless.
He was first to break the kiss, his mouth on her throat. “I need to be inside you.”
“Yes,” she said on a gasp of pure pleasure as her pearl glanced over the head of his cock. “I want that too.”
“But not in this damned tub.” He kissed her again, lingeringly. “I want you on the bed where I can make love to you like you deserve.”
With reluctance, she disentangled herself from him and rose, dripping, from the scented bath. He rose as well, and she did not deny herself the pleasure of admiring his masculine frame as he exited the tub first, before turning and holding a hand out to her. Every part of him was beautifully formed, his back a wide plane, his arms well-muscled and strong, his legs long and lean. His bottom was firm and well-formed, and she had discovered she loved grasping it while he was deep inside her. His cock, too, was beautiful. His chest broad and well delineated.
“Does my lady like what she sees?” he teased.
Her cheeks went hot as she placed her hand in his, accepting his help from the bath. “Very much so.”
She wanted to worship him as he did her. To kiss every inch of his body. To show him how much his words of love had meant to her. How muchhemeant to her.
They stood on a thick, generous rug which had been laid over the elaborately tiled floor to prevent wet feet from slipping. Holding his gaze, she sank to her knees before him, determined to bring him pleasure.
“Let me show you how much,” she said, and then she took him into her mouth.
“You don’t have to,” he said on a groan, but his hands sifted through her hair as he issued the denial.
She let his cock slip from her mouth, licking the slit on the tip where a bead of his seed had formed. “I want to.”
She gripped the base of him with her left hand and drew him between her lips, stroking him and sucking him at once. He rewarded her with a subtle thrust of his hips and another moan. She loved having him at her mercy this way, loved him in her mouth, the salty, musky taste of him on her tongue.
“Ah, Izzy.” His voice was low and laden with desire. “I love watching you take me in your pretty mouth. You like sucking my cock, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” she agreed, taking him deeper, looking up to find him watching her with a hooded gaze. She let him slide from her mouth and licked the rigid length. “I do.”
She also liked this side of him, the bawdy, wicked side. Loved his sinful words and naughty commands. He made her feel desired.
Loved.
And she wanted him to feel the same. Because she loved and desired him, too. So much. Too much. The ferocity of her emotions for him frightened her.
