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The pain was instantaneous. She cried out with it, tried instinctively to push him away. "No!"
He froze, staring down at her through wide, disbelieving eyes. His brow was dampened with sweat, moist strands of hair stuck to his temples.
He was so quiet, he scared her.
She'd done something wrong, something bad. "What?" she whispered.
He leaned down, kissed her forehead, then drew back and gazed down at her. Tears filled his eyes. "You're a virgin."
Before she could ask how he knew, he pulled her into a crushing embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She felt him tremble, heard the throaty catch of his voice. Warm, damp tears slid along her throat, tangled in her hair.
At the feel of his tears against her skin, she began kissing him, softly at first and then with a fevered need. She kissed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder.
He groaned softly and slid his hands between her legs, touching her with a seductive intimacy, coaxing her body to life.
Very slowly, he slipped back inside her, stretching her, filling her. The pain was still there, still sharp, but her joy was so intense, she didn't care, barely noticed.
She clung to him, her hips moving instinctively against his, grinding, thrusting. Gentle and then not so gentle, sweeping her up in a tide of pure, electrifying sensations. She gave in to the emotions, the feelings. He knew the exact moment she couldn't stand it anymore. He knew what she needed more than she did, and he gave it to her, sinking deep, deep inside her.
Afterward, he clung to her, and wouldn't let her go, and that was what she wanted. He lay beside her, their hot, damp flesh pressed seamlessly together, sheets tangled between their legs. She could smell the sweet, new scent of their love.
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He turned to her suddenly, rolled over and pressed her deeper into the warm bed.
She glanced up at him, surprised by the look on his face. He was smiling broadly, a crooked, lopsided grin that melt
ed her heart. He had never looked so young, so carefree, so blindingly handsome. "There's no husband out there, Selena."
The words filled her with an indescribable happiness. This was her home now, truly. No one would come in the middle of the night and force her to make a heart-wrenching decision. "You are certain?"
"I'm sure."
"And you know this because of ... what we just did?"
"Oh, yes."
"I do not know." She gazed up at him, surprised to realize that she wanted him again. A smile crept across her face. "Perhaps we should do it again. Simply to be certain."
He leaned down to kiss her, whispering against her still-swollen lips, "Ah, goddess, I couldn't agree more."
Chapter Twenty
They didn't come out of the room for four days.
Ian lay sprawled in the bed, the covers tangled around his naked legs, the pillows piled behind his head. The candle beside him hissed and sent the acrid scent of smoke into the air. Beyond the bed lay shadows, heaps and heaps of shadows, with only the moonlight at the window to remind him that he was even in his house, in his own room.
He closed the book in his lap and gazed down at Selena, asleep beside him.
She lay snuggled beside him, naked, her hair glowing with red and gold highlights. He dragged a finger along the warm, velvety curl of her shoulder. She sighed and smiled in her sleep.
It was everything that Ian had ever been told that love could be, a universe of emotion in every look, every touch, every whispered word. Obsession, possession, conquest, defeat, joy, and pain. He felt them all, reveled in his ability to feel so deeply, to yearn so completely. Magic.
She made a quiet sound and rolled over. Her hand slipped through the hair on his chest and settled in the pit of his arm. He felt the warm heat of each finger against the sensitive flesh. Her leg crooked, slid over his in a smooth, erotic motion.
Jesus, she was beautiful, her cheeks flushed with 252