He thrust again, this time almost brutally slamming into her body. The breath left her body, the fiery sensations engulfed her. "More!" she commanded, feeling his powerful thighs bunch under her. She could actually feel him filling her, pushing through the soft muscles of her vaginal wall, while she gripped him tightly, holding him close to her, holding him in her.
Abigail looked into his eyes, was caught and held by the intensity of the emotions swirling in the dark depths. She could see his love of her, the need and desire that washed through him with the same strength of passion it did her. She'd been so afraid to feel this way again, the tearing, gut-wrenching love that filled her and refused to let her go. It was there in his eyes.
He drove hard, seeking to be as deep inside her as possible. She felt him moving through her, thick and hard and oh so hot, driving all the way to her very womb. She felt his body jerk as her muscles tightened like a vise, refusing to give him up. As her muscles rippled and convulsed, hard mind-numbing spasms that left her breathless, tears glittered in her eyes. His hot release poured deep into her and she pressed her forehead against his good shoulder, savoring the small aftershocks that kept her body shuddering with pleasure.
"I do love you, Sasha. More than anything. It scares me how much I love you."
"You aren't alone, Abbey. I couldn't live without you. You managed without me. You were able to shut me out so completely. That terrifies me."
"It's the only form of self-preservation I have."
"Look at me, Abigail." He pried her fingers from around his neck and shifted her back. The action sent another ripple through her body and around his.
She stared into his eyes and felt her heart jerk wildly. He always seemed to affect her that way.
"I love you. I'm not leaving you. Ever. Read my letters. You'll know I desperately need you in my life and you won't have to be afraid again."
Abigail kissed him. She'd already read the letters. She'd read them again and again during all those long hours and days when he was fighting for his life. She treasured every one of them and had cried more than she ever had over the way he poured out his heart to her. "I love you, Sasha. I do."
The wind rushed off the ocean surface to the deck, bringing sea spray, salt, and the muted sound of feminine voices. Distant. Musical. Laughing.
Abigail stiffened, pulled away from Aleksandr in alarm, her eyes enormous. "Oh, no." She looked around frantically. "My clothes. Where are my clothes?"
Aleksandr snagged her shirt and watched as she jerked it over her head. She leapt off of his lap, throwing the blanket over him. "Quick, you have to get in the house and get dressed. Come on, hurry."
The wind retreated, then returned, throwing leaves and twigs into several whirling mini tornadoes. From several corners of the house the wind rocked the musical chimes into a strange melody.
"What is it, Abbey?" He pulled a gun from under the tea towel on the tray beside him. His gaze shifted in all directions, looking for danger, assessing their options.
She caught up her slacks and dragged them up her legs. "It's my mother. And my father! I can't believe this. They've come back home. This is awful. Where are your clothes? They'll be here any minute. And don't say anything outrageous."
He smiled at her and reached for her hand, visibly relaxing. "This is wonderful. I've wanted to meet your parents. You're blushing."
She swiped at her face as if she could remove the stain of color. "I'm not. I cannot believe those rotten sisters of mine didn't warn me immediately. Of course they'd come home. Aunt Carol must have told them Ignatev stabbed me." She reached down to help him to his feet. "She said she was going to, but I told her not to breathe a word of it to them. She probably told the entire family. We'll be lucky if all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins don't show up as well."
Aleksandr staggered and that steadied her. She took a deep breath. "It's okay. We'll be okay." She stopped abruptly and glared at him. "You knew. You rotten, deceitful bastard, you knew all along my parents were coming, didn't you? Aunt Carol told you."
He arched an eyebrow, unperturbed by her accusation. "She may have mentioned it when she was here earlier."
"The only reason I'm helping you into the house instead of pushing you off the deck is that you're still hurt. Any promises are negated."
"Not a chance, Abbey. I'm holding you to the promise." He sat on the bed and wiped small beads of sweat from his forehead.
"It was made under duress and you tricked me." She brought him a washcloth. "Here, this will help. You're trying to do too much, Aleksandr. You can't recover from wounds like you have this fast. You have to stop pushing yourself so hard. You almost died. You would have died without Prakenskii's magic. I shouldn't have allowed you to make love like that. We just get so carried away."
He pulled her to him. "I love you, Abbey. We didn't get carried away. We just need each other. There's a difference."
Abigail kissed him. "I love you right back, Aleksandr Volstov, but I have no idea why. You're bossy and you insist on thinking you're invincible." She washed him quickly and helped him into a pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt. "You look pale. Do you need something for the pain? Libby is going to kill me for this."
"Stop, Abbey," he said, his voice tender. "Libby isn't going to know. We didn't do any damage. If anything I feel much better." He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled the top of her head.
She looked up at him. "And did I mention bossy?"
"I think more than once. Let's go into the living room. I'd rather meet your parents for the first time there than in the bedroom." He took a deep breath, felt the instant rush of pain that always came when he forgot and inhaled too deep. He smiled at her anyway. He'd had enough of resting and healing. If she knew just how weak he really was, she'd have him back in bed in a heartbeat and there'd be no more of her teasing mouth and hot body to drain his strength. She'd be feeding him chicken soup.
Abigail looked at him with suspicion, but obligingly helped him stand. "I guess there is a certain disadvantage to meeting parents for the first time in the bedroom, but they'd never think you were weak, Sasha. They aren't like that at all. They're very loving and giving people."
He laughed softly. "I don't want to be in the bedroom, thinking about you in my bed and what I'd like to be doing with you the moment we're alone, when we have company."
She growled, actually growled, scowling up at him with a fierce, no-nonsense expression. Aleksandr burst out laughing, jackknifing pain through this entire body, but it didn't matter. "You have no idea how much I love you."
Abigail helped Aleksandr sit in the most comfortable chair just as the doorbell rang. "They're here," she announced unnecessarily. She wanted her parents to love him. To see him through her eyes. To see the real Aleksandr, not the hard, ruthless man he presented to the rest of the world.
As she crossed to the door, she realized she had nothing to worry about. Her parents trusted her, loved her, and they would embrace Aleksandr into the family.
Her heart pounding with joy, she flung open the door.