“Really?” I groan, fantasizing about the feel of her sheathing me, taking me inside her pleasure center.
“Really.”
She strains against the two fingers I have inside of her now, breath coming faster each time I stroke and send my thumb skittering over her clit.
“You have to promise me, you won’t be mad if it hurts the first time,” I whisper, dissolving into her heat and need. “And that you’ll let me try again after you’re rested because I’m definitely on the big side of things. But I promise, you’ll fit me like a glove before you know it.”
She exhales sharply as I circle her nub again.
“Yes, Ambrose. I promise.”
Crawling over me, she straddles me for a second time. My hands come up into her hair until brown curls cascade down her shoulder, spilling onto her breasts.
Tears fill my eyes, chest tightening as I palm her cheek. “You’re so damn beautiful, Catalina. It hurts to look at you.”
She removes her glasses, and I shake my head. “No, Sparky, I want you to see who gives you this pleasure … who makes you come.”
“Don’t worry,” she says, kissing my neck and shoulders with slow, searing strokes of her lips and tongue. “I’m going to stay close enough to see you with my own two eyes. Nothing between us.”
We sit for a heartbeat, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same ragged air. Her eyes search mine, asking silently if I’m sure. My answer is in the way I kiss her—slow, reverent, steady—before guiding her down over me.
I slide into her inch by inch, pushing her to the edge of bliss and pain before retreating back and thrusting again. Each time a little deeper, each movement pushing us closer to total union.
Emotion grips me despite my attempts at steely control. She’s the first and only woman I’ve ever made love to, and the euphoria of it is almost too much.
Catalina quivers as I drive deeper, her body slowly adjusting, each small wince met with my whispered vows of the pleasure waiting for her.
“Ambrose!” she screams as I lower my head, sucking her nipple into my mouth. One hand grips her waist, guiding her hips to take me incrementally deeper, even as she tries to resist. The other works her pearl mercilessly, bringing her to the edge of orgasm each time the pain turns her pants ragged.
Only when her body shudders around me, and I feel the warmth gush from her body, do I drive inside, seating myselfto the hilt. The tenderness of her lips transforms into a fitting reciprocal sting as she buries her teeth in my shoulder.
Finally, I come apart inside her, riding soul-shaking waves as I fill her—with my seed, with my love, with everything I am.
Leaning back slightly to catch the glowing embers in her eyes, I can’t hold back any longer.
“I love you, Catalina Cynthia Dupont … more than any fucking thing or any fucking person on the face of this Earth.”
Her hands come up, gripping my face fiercely. “And I love you, Ambrose Lincoln Dutch …forever.”
Chapter
Fourteen
CATALINA
My eyes flutter open, my body wrapped in the most delectable warmth. I stretch, yawning, and grab my glasses from the nightstand next to me.
Soft golden light filters through the curtains, casting shadows on the naked angles of Ambrose’s broad back. The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, invites me to consciousness.
Ambrose lies next to me on his stomach, his chin propped on his hands and a pillow. A lazy grin owns his face.
“How long have you been watching me sleep?” I ask, turning towards him and registering the delicious soreness in the muscles he wrecked last night.
Sensual memories wash over me, bathing me in a need I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to satiate. My hand comes up, stroking his thick neck and ruffling his soft hair. He purrs at my touch, head cocking to the side. Grabbing my hand, he slides it to his mouth, pressing an affectionate kiss on my palm.
“For a while now,” he confesses, biting his thumb. “You looked so darn peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
Suddenly, it hits me. “Gran!” I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed. My pulse races, the delicious intimacy of last night colliding with my real-world responsibilities.
