“Oh,” I moaned. “Oh, godwitches.” I clutched his shoulders, his skin slick with sweat.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Should I stop?”
“Don’t . . . you . . . dare,” I said between gasps.
He pumped in and out, slow at first, letting me acclimate to his size. “I don’t know if I have the control to...” His voice sounded pained. “I want you so bad, Niamh.”
“You’re so big.” He pushed my leg tighter against my waist, angling himself so that every time he thrust, he hit a spot in my inner walls that sent spasms of fire through me.
“If I go faster”—he grunted, sounding pained—“will it . . . if I lose control . . .”
The thought of him losing control terrified me, which was exactly how I knew it was what I wanted. “I can take it. I can take you. All of you.”
That was all I had to say, and he was slamming into me, that frenzied energy building between us that I didn’t think would ever go away. His hand still clutched the back of my thigh, keeping my leg bent as he angled deeper inside me, ramming in and out over and over, and all I could do was cling to him and let him take control.
I grabbed his arms, his muscles contracting, his weight so heavy and delicious. I’d never dared to let myself think about what sex with Wolfe might be like, not when I was nearly betrothed to his brother. But if I had imagined it, I couldn’t have dreamed how hungry I’d havebeen for him, even when he was already inside me, as close to me as he could be—yet I somehow wanted him closer, wanted him deeper.
He pulled out and rubbed the head of his hard length over my folds, watching me as he did, his gaze sparking. His cock shined with my wetness, and that turned me on even more.
“I love seeing how you react to me,” he said, and I gasped when he teased my entrance with his cock. His voice was gravelly, strained. “You’re so fucking beautiful, but I don’t think you’ve ever been more stunning than in this moment, when I get to watch you fall apart.”
A wave of lust hit me, and he shoved inside me again, both of us rocking together. He leaned down to kiss me, our tongues tangling, and suddenly I was in a free fall as pleasure ripped through me. I cried out against his mouth, my body seizing while he kissed me fiercely, holding on tight as his own climax shot into me, his cock pulsing.
We clutched each other, hearts beating rapidly, bodies slowly unclenching until he finally slumped over me and pressed a kiss to my neck before he rolled off and onto his back.
I glanced at him, and his gaze was so tender, so full of love, that tears sprang to my eyes.
“Hey.” He rolled to his side, propping his head up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I sniffled, cheeks heating. I couldn’t believe I was crying after sex. I’d read silly romance novels where heroines sometimes did this, so overcome by emotion they couldn’t help themselves, but I’d never thought this was a real thing. Now that it was happening to me, I felt shy.
“I have no idea why I’m crying.” My voice shook.
Wolfe thumbed away a tear, concern taking over his features. “Do you regret it, then? It’s okay if you do. You have no obligation to me?—”
“No!” Horror replaced my mortification. “No, that’s not it at all. I’m... happy. I’m just really, really happy.”
His brows bunched together. “So you’re crying because you’re happy?”
I laughed through the tears. “I suppose so. Is that ridiculous?”
He traced my lips with his fingers, and I shivered. “No,” he said. “It’s... it’s amazing that I could make you feel that way. That I could make anyone happy. I’ve spent so long making people unhappy that it’s hard to understand.”
This poor man had spent so many years convincing himself that everyone secretly hated him, blamed him for Lor’s death. He had no idea how loved and wanted he was, but I was going to keep showing him. I’d keep reminding him so he never forgot.
“When did it happen?” he asked quietly. “For you?”
“When did what happen?” I wrinkled my nose.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “When did you realize you had feelings for me?”
That was easy. “The night after we fell asleep together. I realized that beneath that grumpy exterior was a man who cared deeply, who was kind and gentle and who made me feel brave and capable. What about you?” I asked, suddenly curious.
“I think I fell for you from the first day you opened your eyes and shouted at me.”
“I didn’t shout at you,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows.
