“I don’t care,” she said, trying to keep up with his mouth.
“I can tell.”
He kissed her hard and deep, an assault to her mouth that felt just as shocking and intimate as every other shocking and intimate thing he’d done, and then pulled back. She felt his breath on her face.
“Have you kissed a man before, Lady Ryan?” he rasped.
She shook her head but then realized he could not see her. “No,” she whispered.
He swore in French and lowered his face again, kissing her more softly. Little pecks. Longer pecks. The swipe of his tongue.
Ryan kissed him back. Now she understood, and it was nice—less mindless, which she appreciated. She valued reasoned thought and now she could almost, almost manage it.
“Gabriel?” she whispered between kisses.
“Yes?”
“Can I have a baby from this?” She was reluctant to ask this, but it was among the first reasoned thoughts when her brain returned. No responsible woman could allow this to remain unknown. She didn’tthinkshe could have a baby from what he’d done—but it was so explosive and life-altering and incredible, she had to be certain. She’d taught herself many things since her mother had died, but she had not learned this. Not specifically.
“No,” he said. “Can you feel my clothes? I’m fully dressed, Lady Ryan.”
What Ryan felt was the large, thick hardness, stillnudging between her legs, but he seemed to be making a point.
“Yes,” she said. “I can feel you—er, your clothes.”
“You cannot get pregnant without... without me.”
“Thank you,” she said, squirreling away this information for later examination.Without him.She wanted to ask more but the simplethank youseemed like the most concise, most polite thing to say, considering how wonderful it was and how wanton she’d been.
“Can you sleep now?” he asked.
“Will you stay?”
He made a groaning noise but said, “Yes. Alright. I will stay.”
He rolled from her body and Ryan made a small noise of protest, her fingers scrambling to retain some part of him. He settled beside her and she sighed in relief.
He moaned softly and reached for the coverlet, pulling it over them.
“Close your eyes,” he said, gathering her body up and tucking it against him.
And now Ryan felt an entirely different pleasure: strong arms pulling her against warm man; one hand slid round her waist, another beneath her and between her breasts. She felt safe and satiated and exhausted; she felt she’d been given permission to tumble into sleep. She saw new colors in the darkness, more muted, but no less incredible. Her breathing was slow and steady. It was so very dark, she didn’t know if her eyes were opened or closed, but she knew he was beside her. Knowing this, she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabriel had not intended to fall asleep. He’d not intended to hold her. His vague plan had been to leave her as soon as—
Well, none of it had been planned. Obviously.
He stomped through the stable in the misty light of dawn, feeding the animals. His actions were rote, mechanical, he moved blindly. His brain was consumed with memories of last night and all the things he’d done to Ryan Daventry. Making almost-love to her had been...
He couldn’t say what it had been. He knew only that he’d wanted it at the time, which also seemed to be the same momentshe’dwanted it. The darkness had been so complete, and the day had been the most agonizing in recent memory, anddamn it all to hell.
He grabbed the slats of a stall with both hands and dropped his head between his shoulders, breathing in and out.
Making almost-love to Ryan Daventry was not a change of heart. It was not a compromise. It was base, and primal, and he hadn’t realized it ran so very deep until he’d touched her. The moment he’d plucked her from the road and held her against him had been likepopping the cork on a vessel that was bone-dry inside. Now all he wanted to do was fill it, and fill it, and fill it. And so what had he done? He’d brought her here, to his camp, so she could immerse it with her scent and her wet undergarments andher; so she could be everywhere at once. In his waterfall, in his kitchen, in his head, in his bed.
The bedroom and the darkness had awakened something inside of him so ferocious but also so very latent. It was a version of himself he’d never met. She made him feel entitled to abundance; like mere safety and isolation were not enough. She made him feel like a man who said bollocks to loneliness, even if being alone served a purpose.
