“That’s so good,” she said. And barely recognized her own voice. It was dark and sultry and full of lust.
He pushed one finger, then two, inside her and she started to unravel. The pressure increased on her clit, the pace inside her quickened. She released the strands of hair her fingers were twisted in and instead grabbed fistfuls of crisp white sheet and satiny duvet surrounding her. He made her writhe and moan. Made her want to hold onto the sinfully delicious sensations he evoked as much as she wanted to let go of them.
When he whispered, “Come for me, baby,” she did. There was no holding back when he commanded her desire. Whatever he wanted, she would give him.
Her passion-induced cry echoed all around them, but was no match for the sound of the rain that fell even harder than before, hitting the glass in a strong, steady beat.
“Oh lord,” she groaned. Her nipples tingled, her belly fluttered, her pussy pulsed. Every inch of her felt electrified. At the same time, she ached for him. Like there was a huge, gaping hole inside her only he could fill.
“Please,” she pleaded. “Make love to me.”
His head lifted and his dark eyes met hers. Clearly, he didn’t miss the change in her wording. Or the need in her voice. He saw so much, knew so much about her. With no real effort on her part. A scary yet thrilling notion. She wouldn’t dwell on the downside of that reality. Rather, she found she liked how intuitive he was. How connected they were. On a visceral level she’d never dreamed of achieving. It was warm and wondrous and she would enjoy it for one night.
Moving on the bed, he left the wide V of her parted legs and stretched his powerful body alongside hers, his hypnotic gaze giving her heart palpitations. One large hand splayed over her hip and with the gentlest of nudges, he u
rged her to roll away from him. Propping herself on the other hip and an elbow, not quite lying and not quite sitting up, she stared at him over her bare shoulder. His eyes burned with passion and need. And so much more. His features were dark and serious, telling of his constant battle to retain some control so he didn’t hurt her.
If only she could convince him he wouldn’t! Good lord, would the fire turn into a five-alarm rager then!
But there was nothing she could do to assure him she was virtually indestructible. And besides, the heat factor was already intense enough to singe her to the core of her being.
His hand moved from her hip to her throat. He massaged it gently, then the pads of his fingers caressed her dewy skin as they brushed over her shoulder and then the nape of her neck beneath the thick curtain of her damp hair. When his sensuous touch slid slowly down her spine, tracing the long line to the small of her back, she shivered with wicked delight.
His eyes burned brighter. Knowing how vehemently she responded to him. Knowing how easily he sparked her desire.
But he didn’t gloat. Merely continued to arouse her with exploring fingers pressed into her backside, then stroked her thigh, tickled the exposed underside of her knee. Her erogenous zones were ultra-sensitive to his touch and she felt prickly all over.
He leaned forward and placed a very soft, sweet kiss on her hip.
Bev melted. Her heart seemed to swell in her chest. Her mouth gaped open.
I love you too.
Whatever kept him from admitting his feelings, she couldn’t fault him for it because it was impossible for her to say the words as well. But that did not mean the emotion wasn’t there, that it wasn’t growing every single second they spent together.
She ran a hand through his hair, down his neck to his shoulder. He was so beautiful. So perfect in so many ways.
It occurred to Bev that she would give up her eternity to spend a mortal life with this man.
That thrilled and terrified her at the same time.
Trouble was, she didn’t know exactly what would happen to her once her secret was revealed, once she acknowledged it out loud. Would she instantly shrivel up and turn to ash? Would she start at thirty-one, the age she looked, and die from there in a natural, mortal progression?
She didn’t know. And was too scared to find out.
But damn it. If she could have fifty or sixty years of bliss with Cane, sans secrets and fears, she’d give up her immortality. For him. For them.
There were no guarantees, though. She only knew of the curse, not the end result. Either no immortal descendant of Tlaloc had had their gift revoked, or it hadn’t been documented. So she didn’t know what to expect.
“You’re the one drifting away now,” Cane said, his voice low yet commanding her attention.
She stared at him. Wanting him in every conceivable way. For as long as she could have him.
Impossible.
Shaking her head, she said, “I just can’t believe how incredible this night is. How perfect it is. I don’t ever want it to end.” And for the first time in six centuries, a tear welled in her eye.
How could something so beautiful and so right be so doomed?