Andre was definitely a man now, in every sense of the word. He was taller, and his shoulders were impossibly wide, the muscles there and through his chest even more developed, corded power rippling beneath his skin. But his hips were still lean and taut. He was a physical force to be reckoned with, now more than ever. But when her fingers touched his manhood a spark transferred itself from him to her—that hadn’t changed; their response to each other was as elemental now as it had been then.
“Trust me, Juliana,” he said now. Nothing more. He waited, refusing to touch her, refusing to let his hands, his body convince her. Naked and trembling, his eyes had told her at the reception, and she’d called it arrogance on his part. But now she saw the tensed muscles of his forearms, and when she looked down at his hands she saw they had formed fists, as if it was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep from touching her. Her eyes slid upward, lingering on his arousal, then encompassing his hips, the taut muscles of his stomach, his chest. She saw the faint tremors that shook him as that iron will was threatened...but held. And she knew.
Naked and trembling.
He hadn’t just been talking about her, about making her want him. He’d been talking about himself, as well. “You will come to me because you want me the same way I want you.” In her mind she heard the rest of his statement, but now it took on a whole new meaning. Now she understood. “You will want me again, Juliana. That is a promise, not a threat. And when I take you, you will understand why.”
Juliana looked up into Andre’s face, saw the yearning there that matched what was in her heart, and her hands moved of their own volition. She slipped her thumbs beneath the delicate fabric and pushed it down, revealing herself to him completely. No barriers. No defenses.
Naked and trembling.
He moved then, shifting her body backward, pressing her against the pillows, his body covering hers with the same urgency she remembered from eleven years ago. Then memory blurred when he parted her legs and slid two strong fingers inside her, drawing a moan she couldn’t repress. She was already damp, her body ready for him, and his fingers moved slowly...deep, deeper. Stretching her sweetly in a promise of things to come.
She shivered with anticipation, closing her eyes as she remembered the feel of him so long ago but so vivid in her mind—hot, hard, filling her so tightly, so completely, she hadn’t known where she ended and he began.
“Perfect?” he whispered in a question that wasn’t really a question because he already knew the answer, the husky sound of his voice making her shiver the way his hand did, his fingers sliding in and out, his thumb coaxing the tiny nub from its hiding place.
Then she was clinging to him, crying his name as he wove his dark, magical spell, the same way he’d done the first time he’d made love to her. She couldn’t control her reaction to him now any more than she’d been able to do then. She loved him. She always had. She always would. She knew it, and she wanted him to know it, too. Wanted him to believe it. “Andre...” She arched against his hand. “Please...oh, please...”
“Yes,” he breathed against her throat. “Come to me, Juliana. Come to me.” Then he was whispering to her in Zakharan, the language she loved for its musical cadence. The language she loved because it was his. Whispered words that lured her ever higher as her body followed inevitably where he led.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t bear his voice, his fingers, his body hard and insistent against hers for another minute. Not another second. She moaned and thrashed, wanting to escape but needing the feeling to go on endlessly. And then it was too late. His name was torn from her as her body simply exploded into a thousand pieces, each piece a glittering shard of ecstasy.
Chapter 16
Juliana wasn’t even aware Andre had moved. Wasn’t even aware that he was sliding inexorably into her soft depths until he was buried deep inside her. She gasped and opened her eyes. His breathing wasn’t quite steady and his eyes were hooded as he watched her, but there was an expression on his face she’d seen once before.
He pressed even deeper, making her shiver and burn. “Perfect, little one,” he said, though she could see it was an effort to get the words out. Then he was driving into her, riding her hard, his big body controlling hers with what seemed to be practiced ease. She didn’t care. She just wanted him, wanted everything he could give her. Her knees rose and grasped his thighs, opening herself more fully to him. He groaned deep in his throat and took full advantage, driving even harder, deeper, both their bodies shuddering with each heavy thrust.