Claimed for the De Carrillo Twins

A fleeting moment of vulnerability was gone as she explored further and took him in her hand again, moving over his flesh with more confidence.

He groaned and put his hand over hers. She looked at him—suddenly unsure—and it made his chest squeeze. ‘If you keep touching me like that I won’t last...and I need to.’

‘Oh,’ she said, a blush staining her cheeks.

Cruz cupped her chin and said roughly, ‘Come here.’

She moved up and his arm came around her. He hauled her into him so that she half lay on him, breasts pressed against his side. Her nipples scraped against his chest. Cruz pressed a hot kiss to her mouth, his tongue tangling lazily with hers, revelling in the lush feel of her body against his and the taste of her.

When he could feel her moving against him subtly, he gently pushed her back so that he was looking down at her. Her sheer beauty reached out and grabbed him deep inside, transcending the physical for a moment. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was spread around her head like a golden halo.

She was perfection. And everything she’d told him, if it was true—Cruz shut his mind down. He couldn’t go there now.

He explored her body with a thoroughness that made her writhe against him, begging and pleading. But there was no way he wasn’t going to make sure she was so ready for him that when they came together there would be no pain. Only pleasure.

He smoothed his hand over her belly, down to where her legs were shut tight. He bent his head again, kissing her deeply, and as he did so he gently pushed them apart and felt her moist heat against his palm.

He cupped her sex, letting her get used to him touching her there, and explored along the seam of her body, releasing her heat, opening her to him with his fingers. He moved his fingers in and out. He could feel her body grow taut, and then he lifted his head to look down at her.

‘Come for me, Trinity...’

And as if primed to do his bidding, she did, tipping over the edge with a low, keening cry. He had to exert extreme control to stop himself from spilling at the stunning beauty of her response.

Her hand was gripping his arm, and he could feel her body pulsating around his fingers. He looked at her for a long moment and said, ‘If you don’t want to go any further now, that’s okay.’

Her eyes opened and it seemed to take her a second to focus on him. She shook her head. ‘No, I’m okay. Keep going...’

Cruz sent up a prayer of thanks to some god he’d never consulted before. He reached over her to get protection from the drawer. When he was sheathed, he came up on his knees between her legs, pushing them apart, hands huge on her thighs.

Cruz came forward, bracing himself on one hand on the bed beside her, and with his other hand notched the head of his erection against her body, using her arousal to ease his passage into her. He teased her like this until she started panting a little, and arching herself towards him.

Unable to wait a second longer, slowly, inch by inch, he sank into her body, watching her face. She stared up at him, focused, and something inside him turned over even as all he could think about was how perfect it felt to have his body filling hers.

And then, when Cruz was so deep inside her that he could barely breathe, he started to move in and out, with achingly slow precision. She wrapped one of her legs around his waist and he had to clench his jaw as it deepened his penetration.

‘I’m okay...’ she breathed. ‘It feels...good.’

He couldn’t hold back. The movements of his body became faster, more urgent. Trinity was biting her lip, her pale skin dewed with perspiration. Cruz reached under her and hitched her hips up towards him, deepening his thrusts even more. Trinity groaned.

‘That’s it, querida, come with me.’

When she shattered this time it was so powerful that he shattered with her, deep inside her, his whole body curving over hers as they rode out the storm together.

* * *

Trinity woke slowly from a delicious dream, in which she had arms wrapped tight around her and she was imbued with an incredible sense of acceptance, belonging, safety, home.

Trust.

As soon as that little word reverberated in her head, though, she woke up. She was in Cruz’s bedroom, amongst tangled sheets, and her whole body was one big pleasurable ache.

And she was alone.

When that registered it all came back.

Trinity’s sense of euphoria and well-being faded as she recalled telling Cruz everything.

She’d trusted him with her deepest vulnerabilities.