Anastasia's grip on his shoulders tightened and, reflexively, her back arched, her hips lifting to receive his caress.
Damen's thighs pushed hers farther apart, opening her completely to the heated stroke of his fingertips.
Too far gone to withstand tentative explorations, he slid two fingers inside her, nearly wild with his need to feel her softness close around him. "Yes," he muttered thickly, savoring her warmth, her wetness, her quivering welcome to his penetration. He stroked softly, his thumb teasing the tiny bud that cried out for his touch.
Abruptly he needed more.
He tore himself away, shoving himself downward on the bed. He felt her start of surprise, but he didn't—couldn't—pause to explain. In a few jerky motions, he raised her legs, draped them over his shoulders.
And buried his mouth in her sweetness.
Anastasia stifled a scream, nearly coming up off the bed as sensation slammed through her. Her fingers laced through Damen's hair, and her head tossed from side to side on the pillow, her hips arching wildly, lifting her closer to Damen's mouth, his seeking tongue.
Damen's own need surged inside him like a drowning wave. He gripped Anastasia's bottom, hauling her upward, anchoring her so she couldn't escape a fraction of the havoc he was lavishing on her senses. Her scent, her taste, were driving him insane, taking him so close to the edge, he wondered if he'd survive. He deepened his caresses, felt her body grow taut, tauter still, clenching and tight
ening as he drove her to the brink of climax.
"Damen … no…"
It took him a full minute to realize she was struggling, her hands shoving at his shoulders as if to push him away.
He raised his head, passion pounding through his brain, and stared at her in stunned noncomprehension.
"Not alone," she whispered, her entire body trembling with a need she refused to give in to. "Please … not this time, this first time. I want us together."
Damen sucked in his breath, blind desire transforming to comprehension.
"Stacie…" Rasping her name, he capitulated, crawling over her and hooking his elbows beneath her legs. With unerring precision, his throbbing shaft found the welcoming entrance to her body.
Slowly, erotically, he pushed into her.
"Oh … yes." Half-whimpering, half-sighing, Anastasia wound her arms and legs around him, undeterred by the pain she knew must follow, focused on nothing but the need to be one. "This way. It's perfect."
"Sweetheart, I…" Damen had no idea what he intended to say. His body was inadvertently thrusting, urging him into her, crowding him into her snug, clinging passage. His eyes slid shut, all his energies concentrated on the incomparable feeling of making this woman his. "Anastasia." Her name was a love word, uttered over the roaring in his head, the pounding in his loins. She was so incredibly tight, quivering, poised on the brink of climax. And he wanted to share that climax, to meld his fire with hers, to feel her pulse and shatter all around him while he poured his entire soul into hers.
He reached the barrier of her innocence, and reality intruded in a jarring blow.
Damen froze, his fists clenching on either side of Anastasia's head, leaving deep impressions in the soft pillow below. Every muscle in his body went rigid, tremors of restraint quivering through him as his body screamed its protest.
God, he wasn't sure he could stop.
"Damen."
Anastasia whispered his name—a frantic whisper—and his eyes snapped open. Their gazes met and locked—hers wild, pleading; his hot, frantic.
"Don't stop." Her fingers, which had been clenched in the damp strands of hair at the nape of his neck, moved down his spine, clutched at his buttocks with an urgency as palpable as his own. "Please." She swallowed, clearly at the edge of her control, scarcely able to speak, much less express her desperation. "I need you." Her hips undulated, wordlessly beckoning him deeper. "I ache. I can't … bear it…"
Damen groaned, gave in to the inevitable. Framing her face between his palms, he stared deeply into her eyes, his own glittering with emotion. "I love you," he said fiercely. His hands shifted to her hips, gripped them tightly. "I love you, and you're mine."
He thrust forward; she arched to meet him.
The delicate barrier gave, and Damen couldn't stifle his exultant shout as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching and filling her entirely. At the same time, he was acutely aware of the pain he must be causing her, and he forced himself to still, not daring to move until he was sure she was all right.
Her body gave him his answer.
For the briefest second, she tensed, her body recoiling from the sharp, first-time intrusion. Then, the pleasure took over. She emitted a wondrous sigh, softening and melting, wrapping herself around him and sheathing him in liquid fire.
"Damen." She undulated her hips to feel him deeper inside her, then moaned as the frantic need for completion screamed to life, this time unwilling to tolerate delay. "I'm … dying…" she gasped, her nails digging into his back. "Damen … please."