Oh, this did not come down to a choice. She desired him. She loved him. The waiting was over. Oliver was her one true love. No one would ever compare. And she would take this one magical moment over a lifetime of companionship with any other man.
“I want you, Oliver Darby.”
As my friend, my lover and husband … as my one true love.
Without hearing another word, he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed slowly inside.
“Lean forward,” he whispered. His hands settled on her hips as he took her nipple in his mouth and lavished the peak with his tongue.
The urge to bear down grew strong. The need to take him deep and hold him there overshadowed all other thoughts.
“I’m not sure what to expect,” she said steeling herself as he pushed against her maidenhead.
“Trust me. All will be well.” His hands came up to tangle in her hair. “Kiss me.”
The word trust threatened to dampen her ardour. She would trust him with her life — she was the one guilty of duplicity.
As his warm wet mouth devoured hers, he pushed deeper. It stung a little, felt tight … uncomfortable … but only for a few seconds. The need to connect with him so intimately obliterated any discomfort.
And then she gasped as he thrust up and buried himself deep inside her.
Oliver stilled. Was something wrong? Had she failed him in some way?
He looked up at her. “You’re mine now, Nicole.” His husky voice brimmed with emotion.
After her experiences with her brother and Mosgrove, any claim made on her person should have terrified her. But it didn’t. She wanted to belong to Oliver.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he whispered. “Perhaps you should set the pace.”
He might as well have asked her to make a model of a heron out of paper. What was she supposed to do?
But as always, Oliver took care of everything. The large hands on her buttocks assisted in helping her find a rhythm. A rush of euphoria flooded her senses as she took the hard length inch by inch. Stretched tight, she felt full, complete.
“Oh, Nicole. I’ve thought of nothing but this moment since we met.” His fingers trailed over her hip, down to rub her sex. The sensation distracted her momentarily. “Don’t stop, love. Take what you want from me. Take what you need.”
Like the skilled fingers working their magic, those words were her undoing too.
She sank slowly, came apart whilst straddling him. The intense feeling of exhilaration, of contentment, washed over her again and again.
This was love.
Each stroke spoke of freedom, a moment where they could be themselves, exempt from life’s pressures. Each thrust spoke of the all-consuming need to be together. Each whispered word of appreciation carried a level of intimacy and tenderness only they shared.
“Quick, love,” he growled withdrawing from her body and stroking his manhood on the soft flesh of her thigh.
Nicole sat there, ripples of pleasure still coursing through her veins, and relished the look of satisfaction on his face as he came apart, too.
Once their breathing slowed, his satisfied smile turned into a wide grin. “Passion is a powerful thing, is it not?”
Nicole took a moment to savour the glow warming her heart. Love was powerful beyond measure. “Indeed, it is.”
His dreamy gaze drifted over her exposed breasts. “And do you think you might like to continue our wild adventure once we’re home?”
Desire was already unfurling in her belly.
“I’m surprised you need to ask,” she said, dismissing the thought that all good adventures must come to an end.
Chapter Nineteen