As did he.
This need was unfamiliar. He’d claim all of her at once. Tasting her, pushing inside her, surrounded by her.
Her kiss. He needed her kiss.
She welcomed him even as their tongues tangled violently.
Where was that timid woman he’d once believed her to be? “You want this.”
In answer, she pulled him down to her again.
Chase reached for the fasteners of his breeches, freeing himself and then clawing at the hem of her gown. He needed inside her.
Her eyes shown almost silver in the moonlight, and they caught and held his, begging him… For what?
“Share yourself with me, Triston.”
Her knees parted and he stilled, hovering his cock at her opening.
“Like this?” He teased both of them, edging himself inside her velvety warmth, not even an inch and then stopping. A trickle of sweat dropped off his forehead into her hair. He didn’t know why he was waiting but he couldn’t escape the intensity of her gaze.
If he closed his eyes, he could bury himself to the hilt.
“And like this.” She cupped his cheek and jaw.
“And this?” He nudged inside another inch, his bollocks screaming at this godforsaken torture.
Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with desire even as she placed her hand against his chest, over his heart. “And this.”
She was asking for too much.
“I’ll protect you.” Chase closed his eyes.
She clamped her legs around his waist and raised her hips to meet him. The slide inside fulfilled the promise he’d been waiting for.
Sweet fucking mother of heaven.
Control bolted.
He ground his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue inside, matching the rhythm of the joining. Each stroke was a grievance bringing him closer to relief. Pain shot through his scalp where she tugged at his hair. He released her mouth long enough for her to gasp his name. “Triston.”
Frantic, heated, primal.
“Beth.” Her name was a prayer—her body his chapel. Need he’d long kept under lock and key exploded.
Chapter 24
Errands
The sun wouldn’t rise for an hour or so, but Chase lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling, Bethany tucked against his side.
He was breaking his own rules. He’d told her everything about his father, about his sisters. He’d told her he would share his thoughts. He’d promised that he would try to share his blasted heart, for God’s sake.
He wasn’t the sort of person who could do that. He never had been. He’d kept even his closest male friends from knowing these aspects of his life. His fears? Good God. She had no idea what she was asking. And dreams were for people who believed in fairy tales.
He’d promised her things he could never deliver. He only wished he understood why. The sex was good. Hell, the sex was phenomenal. But he knew better than to mistake feelings of desire for something more. Damn and blast.
How could he protect her and do all of this? Because he did, in fact, care for her.
