To Love Honour and Disobey

What choice did she have? Silently she stared up at him.

‘You have the most incredible legs. So long, so smooth, and up here—’ his fingers caressed the inner part of her thighs ‘—so soft.’

So what could she do but spread them further?

He smiled. ‘And your breasts. Oh, your breasts.’ He bent and took a nipple into his mouth—one then the other. ‘So perfect.’

He shifted, settling his weight in place, kissing her again as she melted around him. ‘And here—’ he slid home with a groan ‘—you have the hottest place a man could ever hope to find.’

She had to close her eyes; the sensation was too overwhelming for her to cope.

But true to his word he stopped moving. And then withdrew.

‘No,’ she whimpered.

‘Look at me, Ana,’ he said softly, his hand cupping her chin.

She did. His eyes were piercing and yet tender.

‘If you want me, you have to stay with me.’ He pressed into her again.

She shuddered, blinked rapidly.

‘Right with me,’ he warned.

She licked her lips but couldn’t look away. It felt too good. He was too good.

Their faces were mere inches apart, and there wasn’t a millimetre between the rest of them as their bodies fused. She stared into his beauty, knew that he was seeing right through her. They’d never been so intimate.

‘But the most beautiful thing about your body is your eyes. No, don’t close them. Let me see.’

And she let him, as slowly, silently their bodies meshed together, parted, and then merged closer still. Her breathing hitched. So did his.

She wanted to beg him not to be so gentle. That this tenderness was too much. But she could say nothing. For her heart was bursting—surely about to break. But then it wasn’t breaking. It was expanding—filling with warmth from the look in his eyes. And she could resist it no longer.

He didn’t speak again. The palm of his hand cradled the side of her face, stopping her from turning away from the intensity of his gaze. But she couldn’t, even if he let her. Those ice-blue eyes of his had melted and inside them she could read all the things she dreamed of yet dared not. That he meant his sweet words, that he wanted her, that he cared.

But she daredn’t believe. And the effort not to was pulling her apart, until she was unable to stop the stinging sheen blurring her vision.

He kissed each tear away and his whisper roared loud in her heart. ‘But even your eyes aren’t as beautiful as your soul, Ana.’

And with every long, slow thrust he tore down the last of her defences.

Overwhelmed, unable to stand it any longer, she reached up for him, captured his beautiful mouth with her own. The kiss went on and their arms wound tighter around each other. She closed her eyes but couldn’t keep anything back. Not as she felt his body flex even stronger, the groan reverberating in his broad chest as he began to move even more powerfully. And all she could do was cling, let her body move, her mouth move, touching him, pulling him closer. Urging him to finish it.

His fingers tunnelled into her hair, firmly keeping her face turned up to his as he broke the kiss and relentlessly bored into her again.

‘Please.’ She wanted faster—had to have it that way or she was sure she’d die.

But he resisted, kept it slow, so slow and so deep for so long. She was mindless with desperation, her cries sounding higher and higher. Until with an almost inhuman scream she hit the edge and went hurtling light years beyond her limits.

On and on the climax went—almost brutal in its intensity. Her fingers clawed into his muscles; her body shook with the fierceness of it.

And still it wasn’t over, still he moved, still unbearably slowly, overwhelmingly intense. His face darkened, taut with the effort, his body slick with sweat. Until he could hold back no longer, deep groans of male pleasure racking him.

She shook, her arms and legs curled tight—clamping around him. And it felt as if he were pouring everything she’d ever wanted into her.

She refused to open her eyes now—not wanting to break the spell that she was under, the sublime, treasured feeling. But moment by moment reality impinged. He’d moved just slightly, so he wasn’t crushing her, and she listened as their breathing returned to normal.

He’d just broken her heart. She knew he hadn’t meant to, but he had. No matter his old playboy habits, in his own way he was caring. He’d known she’d felt low and he’d set about making her feel good the best way he knew—with fabulous, sweet sex.

But that was all it was. Short-term charm. Because that was all Seb ever did—flings. Fun affairs. And knowing more of his background now, she even understood a bit of why he wanted only that.