He cupped the back of her head gently and bent to brush his lips across hers, featherlight, before she could protest that she was wearing lipstick. As kisses went, it was fairly virtuous. It shouldn’t have made her heart pound like a drum out of control, but it did. He didn’t stop there. He shifted her, easily bringing her onto his lap, urging her to straddle his thighs.
Amaranthe knew better, but she couldn’t help herself. He mesmerized her. Large hands at her waist, he lifted her, and she settled one knee on either side of his thighs. His lips moved on hers again and again. Barely there. Whispering. Never hurrying. So light. Coaxing her with tenderness as if he knew everything she said was bravado. She was still afraid to go into his world with him.
Geno had kissed her with fire, but not like this. Not with tenderness. Not so she could taste raw emotion. He was giving her a gift—showing her how he felt. Her lips trembled beneath his. This was a terrifying moment even as she reveled in it. His chest was hard as it rose and fell against the softness of her breasts. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, and her heart contracted.
I want you for myself, Danzatrice Ombra. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted for me. The only woman I’ve looked at and known I had to have, or it would be no one. If you turn me down, there will be no arranged marriage. No children with another rider. You are my partner, Amaranthe. I feel it with every breath I take. Feel it, too. Want me the way I want you.
He whispered poetic words like that into her mind, and she knew she would never be able to resist him. It didn’t matter that he was so far out of her league, and she had no idea how to be with a man like him, she knew she couldn’t walk away from him.
She saw his absolute resolve. He meant every word hesaid. His life had been dictated to him, his every path, his every breath and step. He was done with giving every aspect of his life to everyone else. He would choose his wife. The woman he would marry. If he couldn’t have the woman he loved, he would choose to be alone. She saw that determination in him. When Geno made up his mind, he was absolute steel.
I’m so afraid I’ll embarrass you, Geno. I have no idea what to do or say around these people. I don’t belong with them.
His mouth brushed across her lips again. Gently. Coaxing. So tender her stomach did a slow somersault and her sex clenched. She held herself very still, frozen in place, but the need for flight was paramount. Every inch of the front of her body was pressed tightly against him. His masculine scent enveloped her so that each time she inhaled, she took him deep into her lungs.
You don’t need to belong with them, Amara. You belong with me. I’m the one who needs you, not them. I don’t belong. Haven’t you noticed? I’m not the same as the rest of them and I make them uneasy. I’ve never minded, but I don’t want you to feel that way. I don’t want you uneasy around me.
How could he think that? Did she make him think it was him? She slid her palms up his chest and linked her fingers behind his neck, her mouth moving under his in answer.
It isn’t you I’m afraid of, Geno. I love being with you, and I’m comfortable with you. It’s the others in your world.
His teeth teased at her lower lip, tugging very gently while his palm curled around the nape of her neck and his thumb swept along her cheek.
Give yourself to me,la mia danzatrice ombra. I swear, you’ll always be safe with me. I’ll make you happy.
There was no resisting him. She didn’t even want to resist him. He was right.
I want you to know you will always come first. Always.
What difference did it make if she didn’t fit in with his circle of friends? With his family? She fit with him.
The council will lose their minds.She felt compelled to warn him.
Let them. I’ll lose my mind without you.
He kissed her gently again and pulled back to look at her.
“My brothers fit with what a Ferraro should be. I made certain of that and still it wasn’t good enough. They both feel as if they need to settle down immediately and start producing children to further the line. Francesca is practically killing herself to give the riders what they need.” He framed her face again. “Not you, Amaranthe. They took enough from you. Your childhood. Your existence. They don’t get anything else you’re not willing to give them. And you won’t kill yourself to give them our babies. Hopefully, you’ll help me persuade my brothers to slow down before they commit to arranged marriages.”
There was acute pain stabbing at him and she doubted he even knew. She detested that Geno hurt the way he did. The pain wasn’t even for himself. This was for his brothers. He felt he’d failed them. She pressed closer to him and daringly ran her tongue along his bottom lip, tracing the curve.
She felt very small and delicate in comparison to his size. She’d never felt that way before. She had very firm muscles, but beneath her skin there was a layer of softness she’d never been so aware of until she was up against the density of his muscle mass. As his head descended, her lashes fluttered, and she veiled her eyes. She parted her lips, and his tongue swept inside her mouth, hot with a hint of spice, making her heart stutter.
She knew she would always be addicted to his taste. To this fire that he created. This was a slow burn that was like molten lava moving through her veins, so thick with desire she could barely breathe. Barely think. Her body went hot with need for him. He set up a craving that was never going to go away.
Amaranthe was overwhelmed with emotion, swamped with it. With the taste of it. Emotion surrounded her, pressed into every cell and bundle of nerves she had. She hadn’t known love other than those first four years of her life with her parents—but she felt it now. Tasted it in Geno’s kisses. There was no way to deny it. She’d never had that feeling, and now that she had, now that it was stamped into her every cell, she couldn’t live without it.
Geno might think he was a brute of a man, but he was a miracle.Hermiracle. She hadn’t known love could exist for her. She hadn’t known she could taste it or feel it or become addicted to it. She hadn’t known she could feel that particular emotion, but he must have found a way through his kisses, or his mind, or sharing her cells to teach her, because she knew the growing feeling for him had gone from affection to love, and that made no sense when she barely had spent any real time with him.
You know me. Heart to heart. Soul to soul.
Yes, that washerGeno. He wasn’t just that brute of a man he thought himself. He was her secret poet—the man who read everything he could get his hands on in every language he knew. She melted into him. Wanted to be even closer. Wanted to be skin to skin. This man would be forever her secret.
He didn’t stop kissing her over and over, and she knew his passion for her was the real thing. Straddling him the way she was, there was no denying his body demanded hers. She had feared he wouldn’t want her as a woman. He was fiercely aroused. He wasn’t kissing her with the fiery passion he had before, but this smoldering burn felt as if he was claiming her. Was cherishing her.
There was no denying the gentle way he held her. She hadn’t expected him to be so tender or caring, and that had disarmed her as nothing else possibly could have. His thumb stroked her cheek. That was all. Brushed with exquisite gentleness. She had to swallow back the tears clogging her throat.
She hadn’t thought she had anything to bring to Geno Ferraro, but now she knew she did. There were few riders in the world like her. He had no idea who or what his partner was. He thought to keep the world around him safe. Everyone in it. He never thought about himself. He was willing to lay down his life for those he loved. She didn’t look the part and that was more than half her advantage. She would protect Geno with the same fierceness he gave everyone else. She would give him her loyalty because he deserved it. She knew she could make him happy.
