Her chest suddenly felt unbearably tight, and the backs of her eyes stung. If she weren’t so afraid, she could love him. If she weren’t so afraid of being left, rejected, broken, she could give herself to him.
But she was afraid. “No,” she whispered, heart aching.
“I want you,” he said.
Her arm tightened around his neck, her heart twisting, contorting, emotions on fire. “Take me.”
Makin did, slowly filling her, groaning a little at the tightness of her hot sheath. She was almost too tight, and he feared hurting her. He paused, focused on her mouth and kissing her, and making her feel good. He could feel her grow hotter, wetter, and she was adjusting to his size. He pushed in deeper, still hanging on to his control. This time she wiggled beneath him, taking more of him. Makin groaned deep in his throat.
Once he was buried all the way in her, he rocked his hips, moving forward just enough to press against her.
She gasped and he knew that hitch in her voice. Makin pushed her long tumble of hair back from her neck, kissed her neck and slowly withdrew before plunging back in.
She gasped again. Blood surged within him, making his skin tingle and his erection grow even harder.
He kissed her neck and the pink tips of her breasts as he slowly thrust in and out of her tight, hot body. He could hear her breathe and see the color storm her cheeks and the deep flush suffuse her breasts.
Makin used her breathing to tell him where she was and what she needed. It was easy to delay his pleasure. He’d learned control years ago but she was something new and gorgeous, and he wanted to make her feel good again, wanted to see her come this time, and when she began to breathe in little pants he knew she was close to shattering.
His fingers moved between their bodies as he increased the tempo, his hips driving harder and deeper into her body, only to withdraw and drive deep again. He touched her, lightly circling the small delicate nub with the pad of his finger. He felt her grow still beneath him, tensing, and he knew she was right there, ready. He touched her again even as he thrust deep and she screamed.
This time he didn’t let up. He kept thrusting in and out and she writhed beneath him, her inner muscles clenching him, squeezing him, wrenching his control away so that he couldn’t hold back any longer. Makin felt as if he exploded, his body violently releasing into hers, and then shuddering with aftershocks.
It was the most intense orgasm he could remember. His entire body throbbed. But it wasn’t just physical. His chest ached, too.
Makin kissed her, savoring the softness of her mouth and the way her lips parted beneath his. She tasted warm and sweet. She tasted like his.
Sensation ripped through him, centered in his chest. For a moment he couldn’t catch his breath. It was a pain unlike any he’d felt in years … a pain he’d only experienced twice before. When his father died. And then his mother. It was pain created by love.
Makin lifted his head, gazed down into Emmeline’s blue eyes and he finally understood why he’d claimed her. Why he’d insisted on marrying her and taking her away from her parents.
He loved her.
He needed her.
He wanted her.
Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t he understood what he was feeling?
“Makin?” she whispered.
He stroked her hair, realizing now his desire to protect her. To make her his. It was because she was his. She’d been made for him and he was here, born, created, for her. “Everything’s good,” he said, and he meant it. Everything was truly good.
Emmeline lay in the huge four-poster bed with the cool cotton sheet pulled to her chest, listening to Makin breathe.
He’d been asleep for an hour now, but she couldn’t relax, couldn’t sleep.
She liked him too much. Far too much. And that scared her.
She’d married him to provide legitimacy for her baby, and yet here she was, falling for him. And falling for him was wrong. It was dangerous.
She wanted to be brave and fearless. Wanted to wield a sword and fight dragons, but the only dragons in her life were the dragons and demons inside of her. And those were still too big for her to vanquish.
Twenty-five years of fear and insecurity didn’t disappear in a week. Twenty-five years of needing acceptance didn’t end after a night of sex.
The bad thing about fear was that it created more fear. And she was afraid now.
Afraid of opening herself up and being crushed. Afraid to feel and love only to discover more pain.
She couldn’t do more pain. Not yet.
And so the only way to protect her heart was to guard it, and yet around Makin she had so little control. Around him she felt emotional and terrifyingly vulnerable.
Was this love? Could love be so full of fear?