Lord help her, though his words pierced her heart as surely as a blade, she was powerless to resist him. She wanted this. She wanted this so much...
Taking his hand, she guided it boldly to her breast, and then reached out to tangle eager fingers into the crisp hair upon his chest.
Slipping one warm knee between her trembling thighs, he nudged them apart, and then fell upon her, pressing himself slowly into the very depths of her. She was at once swept into a maelstrom of feeling and emotion.
The heated place where their bodies had fused was now the only place she was fully aware of... there and her temple, where his whiskered jaw pressed against her face. His breath was ragged, and dear God, the explosive joining of their bodies made her mad with wanting.
Meeting his powerful thrusts with her own eager ones, she allowed instinct to guide her now. Their bodies met, the rhythm almost as violent as the thunder and lightning ringing in her ears.
Groaning with pleasure, Christian stroked her body with his own, giving her ecstasy in return. And when Jessie’s culmination came suddenly, shattering in its intensity, and she cried out her release, he was shocked to his core by her words.
“Oh, God—I love you!” she sobbed, and her whispered declaration was followed with a tormented moan of pleasure. Then again, as though she could not quite help herself, she murmured obliviously, “I love you...”
Christian’s entire body convulsed violently at her words, but he froze above her, the jolt to his heart painful. She tilted her hips and pressed against him, her body seeming to cry out for more, and again his heart leapt against his ribs.
“Who am I?” He withdrew slightly, and then thrust forward, unable to keep himself from it. The arms that supported his weight trembled and threatened to give. Sweat erupted upon his brow. His voice was strained. “Speak my name—who is it you love?” Her eyes were closed against him.
“You,” she cried out, still undulating softly beneath him. Tears slipped through her sooty lashes.
Thunder cracked, drowning out her voice, but he held her crushed to him as she sobbed, losing his control, even his reason. Still, he needed to hear his name upon her lips, and he dared not stir, not wanting to miss her declaration. Amazingly, despite that he had stilled himself within her, he watched as she came to another soul-consuming completion. The incredible look of bewildered passion upon her face was his undoing.
His hands swept down, seizing her buttocks, and he withdrew almost entirely, thrusting again, almost savagely, burying himself completely into her warmth. His body beset with spasms, he again held fast, needing her sweet words far more than his own release, afraid that she would give them and that he would miss them in the throes of his own white-hot climax.
“Who?” he demanded, losing what was left of his control. He withdrew slowly, torturously. “Say it, Jessie! Say it!”
Lightning erupted, its light brilliant white, but it was his oppressive need that blinded him to his surroundings. In the ensuing darkness, his ears strained to hear her words.
“Christian,” she whispered, and his heart leapt with the booming sound of thunder. Reveling in his victory, he surged forth with such ferocity, such fervor, such glee, that he cried out almost as though in pain. And in that soul-consuming instant, he poured more than his seed into her, he dared to give her everything—God, everything—including his soul.
26
When the storm abated finally, Christian lay, reverently stroking her cheek with the back of his knuckles. He brushed the hair from her face. Through the balcony doors, he could see the sky brighten in the distance, but the sound of thunder never carried to his ears. He thought perhaps it was because his mind was still ringing with her confession. He listened closely, but could hear only her soft breath. She exhaled and it blew gently across the hairs of his arm, sending a delicious chill across his flesh, making him stir yet again. He ignored the insatiable hunger of his body for the yearnings of his heart.
Had he imagined her sweet profession of love?
Ah, Christ—he swallowed, battling the great sweep of emotion that threatened to crush his chest—he hoped not.
He wanted nothing more than to wake her now and ask her, but he knew she was exhausted and he had no wish for her to sicken from the rain. And then again, he wished she’d never waken, that they could stay thus forever. Because once the morning came, he would have to tell her everything.
Everything.
He wanted nothing more between them—not lies, not half-truths, nothing. Yet, for the first time in his life, he feared the truth. His heart rebelled at the thought of telling her his most damning secret, for it might very well destroy the love between them forever...
Even before it had begun.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep some time later, holding Jessie close... as though to be certain she’d not leave him whilst he slept.
God help him, he couldn’t bear to be without her.
Morning light streamed through the balcony doors, falling short of the massive bed.
Jessie stirred, stretching lazily, smiling, and then, as she seemed to remember, heat stained her cheeks. She opened her eyes to find Christian gazing down into her face, his eyes searching.
“No need to feel ashamed,” he assured her, noting the color that bloomed upon her cheeks. He brushed a dark strand of hair from her face, gently, tenderly, wanting nothing more than to ask her now, but he was, by his own admission, afeared of her answer. Perhaps her love words were nothing more than nonsense uttered during the heat of passion?
And then there was the lie between them.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak the incriminating truth.
