Back in the Brazilian's Bed

But would her body allow this?

‘Karina?’

Sensing her abstraction, Dante clasped her shoulders to bring her back into the moment. She smiled up at him, though not before an involuntary swallow on a dry throat had gripped her. She could do this, she told herself again. She kept her gaze steady on his face to prove that she could—to him and to her.

‘If you have any doubts...’

‘I don’t,’ she insisted. This was Dante, and nothing was going to spoil it for her. Dante and Karina. Karina and Dante. Fate had always meant them to be together.

Tracing the broad sweep of his shoulders with her hands, she leaned forward to kiss his chest. Dragging greedily on his familiar clean, musky scent, she kissed him again. She wanted him to know how committed she was to this. She wanted him to know that this was quite different from the last time when her virginity had been hidden from him. Turning her face up to his, she stared him in the eyes and saw everything she’d hoped to see. Even the fact that Dante was so obviously holding back made her want him all the more. Her body was hungry for him and in no mood to wait. Moving restlessly against him, she closed her eyes, shutting out the last of her doubts.

She stiffened a little when he took off her bra, and then reminded herself that she was hidden in the dark. And then he touched her and the pleasure was extreme. When he cupped her breasts she groaned with pleasure and forgot everything but Dante’s touch. It sent sensation streaming through her, and, more than physical, the way he touched her plumbed her emotions, making tears spring to her eyes. They were together, and that was all that mattered. They could never make up for what they’d lost, but they could start again.

Lowering her onto the bed, he lay down beside her. She was his, body and soul. Stretching out his length against hers, he smiled into her eyes. His face was inches away and in shadow, but she could sense the warmth in his face and hear his certainty in his steady breathing. He could seduce her just by being close, she mused wryly.

Reaching down, she found his belt buckle and freed it, and then she lowered the zip, her hand brushing the hard proof of his desire. Far from being intimidating, she longed to have him inside her.

No fear at all? How long would that last?

It would be all right. She would make it right. They were discovering each other all over again, only now they were old enough to commit on a deeper level. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t crave Dante’s touch, a part of her that didn’t crave his love. He would never hurt her. Nothing could hurt her now.

* * *

He was devoted to Karina and to her pleasure. Whatever else he had expected today, it hadn’t been this complete and welcome reversal into the girl he remembered, the girl who had used to be such a big part of his life. There was only one Karina. Even when she had avoided him, his hungry gaze had sought her out at every match. He’d got into the habit of scanning the crowd at polo matches, knowing he wouldn’t play his best unless Karina was watching. He had never had the chance to tell her that she was his lodestone, his totem, and that when he had needed a reality check only Karina could challenge him and bring him down to earth. He’d missed that. He’d missed her. He’d missed the woman who could push her own concerns aside so she could help everyone else.

He’d been determined to have her the night of her party—determined to keep her, until things had gone so badly wrong. His callous behaviour had split them apart like a thunderbolt, forging a chasm between them and leading to tragic consequences.

Consequences Karina had been forced to go through alone.

‘Dante?’

She had brought the sheet up to her chin, and was clinging to it like a comfort blanket. He eased down the bed to reassure her. He kissed and caressed her until she relaxed. He didn’t need to test her to know that she was ready, but he wasn’t taking a single chance this time. She cried out with pleasure at his intimate touch when he plundered her lush folds. She was soft and moist and swollen, and so ready for him that when he traced a finger lightly over her, she clung to him, gasping with need.

He protected them both. His aim was simple. He wanted to make up for that night. He wanted to hear her sigh with pleasure in his arms, and he wanted to take his time getting her to that place. But Karina didn’t want to wait. It was almost as if she had something to prove—to him, to herself, he wasn’t sure which. He only knew that she was responding with such fierce need it was sending him crazy with desire for her. But still he made himself wait. After everything she’d been through, caring for Karina was his only concern. It was his test, his trial by fire, and he would come through for her.