“Of course I like it.” Irritation burred her answer. She slid up against the headboard, her beautiful breasts rising and falling with each choppy breath. “You know I do.”
“Then why stop?”
Her legs cradled his shoulders and her hot scent was more intoxicating than any wine. He could taste her on his lips. Delicious.
“Because . . .” She swallowed and lowered her eyelashes to evade his searching gaze. “You know why.”
His voice lowered into persuasion. “Tell me what you want, Antonia. Tell me.”
A choked whisper emerged and color surged into her cheeks. “I want you to stop teasing me.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Her chin lifted and she shot him an annoyed glance under her lashes. “I want . . .”
“Yes?”
“Curse you, Ranelaw,” she snapped, staring at him directly out of eyes heavy with arousal. The effect was wildly inflammatory when she stretched naked before him, her full breasts quivering with each unsteady breath and her sex open to his gaze.
His smile broadened. “That’s no answer.”
“You leave me no pride.” She blasted him with another incendiary azure glance. “I want you inside me. I want you to fill me until there’s room for nothing else, not thought or guilt or regret. I want you to stop treating me like a toy and accept that here we’re equals.”
Antonia . . .
Hell and the devil. Any impulse to tease disintegrated in a flare of heat. Her words laid claim to his soul.
Even as he struggled to come to terms with her searing honesty, she continued in the same low voice. “I want you to make the world outside this room disappear. I want you to pound into me so hard, I only feel you, I only know you, I only think of you.”
She faltered into silence. She breathed rapidly, unevenly. Her gaze fixed on him, hot as fire. Conflicting emotions flickered across her face.
Vulnerability. Of course. Her frankness left her undefended.
Fear. Courage. Challenge.
Above all, desire.
Slowly he sat up, his eyes not wavering from hers. She made a mockery of his defenses. How ironic to think he’d devoted such effort to conquering her, only to recognize she was in the end the victor.
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Worse, she exerted a pull on his emotions he’d never felt before. And he didn’t know how to break this fatal fascination.
“Antonia, I don’t deserve you,” he said with utter sincerity.
With every moment, this encounter swept him further from the safe harbor of easy lust. He’d always known Antonia would be extraordinary. Now he realized she would mark him so deeply that he’d never be free of her.
Her dark blond eyelashes fluttered down then up again. An uncertain smile curved her lips. “Have I shocked you?”
“No . . .” Then he recognized her candor merited better return than face-saving denial. He leaned over her, supporting himself on his arms. His heart pounded so hard, he thought it must crash from his chest. “Yes.”
She tilted her head to meet his eyes. The blue was so clear, he saw all the way to her soul. He’d spoken the truth when he said he didn’t deserve her. The tragedy was at some profound level, he wished he did.
“Kiss me, Nicholas.”
He obliged. Such passion. Such desire. Antonia . . .
When finally he lifted his head, her eyes were brilliant with excitement. Her voice was throaty as she shifted down the bed to lie under him. “Now, Nicholas.”
At last . . .