An insistent heat began to build between her legs. The power of their bond crackled in her, sending tiny shocks through her body every time they touched.
He caressed her as if he loved her, as if each taste of her was a gift.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She pushed against his hand. He let her go, and she yanked the shirt off her arms and pulled at his clothes. He stripped off his shirt. His body was perfect, hard and strong, each contour of the muscle shaped by fight and practice. His pants followed, and then he was naked and huge and all hers. He dragged her closer, pulled her trousers off, and tossed them aside. For a moment he was above her, on his hands and knees, and his eyes were on fire.
Breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, unable to look away. She loved everything about him. Every line of his harsh body, every scar, everything. The want in his eyes made her giddy. No man had ever looked at her like that. She’d had no idea it was even possible.
“Ramona . . .” His voice was a ragged growl.
She pulled him to her, running her hands over the thick cords of muscle on his back, and whispered into his ear, “Please.”
He thrust into her. He felt like heaven, and she gasped.
His hard length filled her, and he thrust again, driving into her in a wild, fast rhythm. She matched him, relishing each thrust. The connection between them vibrated with power, and she melted into it, savoring him in pure bliss.
He shifted his weight, dragged her hips closer, bending her legs, and pushed into her. Nothing else mattered. He made love the way he fought, all in, and she met him halfway in that feverish place where only the two of them existed.
The pressure building inside her crested. She shuddered and climaxed, drowning in ecstasy. His body shook above her, rigid with tension, and he came.
They stayed together, the aerial silent except for the sound of their breathing. Slowly he moved and lowered himself next to her. She curled up beside him, rested her head on his carved biceps, and closed her eyes.
Rain drummed on the roof of the aerial.
It’s over.
They had to go back to their lives. Thinking about it hurt. She tried to imagine letting him go and couldn’t.
“Marry me,” he said.
What?
She raised her head to look at his face. He couldn’t have said what she thought he’d said.
“Marry me,” he repeated.
She sat up and opened her mouth. All her conflicting feelings tried to come out at once, and she just stared at him, mute.
He sat. His eyes were clear and resolute. “I don’t care what my ancestor did three hundred years ago. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t a part of that. You weren’t a part of that. Nobody who was there back then is still alive today. It’s ancient history. I’m in love with you. Don’t leave me.”
She finally managed to make her mouth work. “Are you serious?”
“I have never been more serious, and since it’s me, that’s saying something.”
Yes, yes, yes . . . Ramona stomped on her own brakes. It wasn’t just about her. It was about him, his life, his family.
“What if it’s not real?” she asked. “What happens when the adrenaline wears off and you regret this?”
“Never.” He swore like it was a vow.
If he did end up regretting it, if they disappointed each other, it would hurt so much she wasn’t sure she would survive it. “Matias . . .”
He looked desperate, like a man whose life hung by a thread. “I know this more than I know anything. It’s never going to get old. It will never wear off. I’m not given to rash decisions. This is real. I know it. I feel it. I know you feel the same. Stay with me. Say yes, Ramona, and I promise you will never regret it.”
She had to say no. They had known each other less than a week. No was the most prudent answer, the most careful answer, the answer that would keep the peace in both families, that would give them both a chance to redefine their happiness . . .
There would be no happiness for her without Matias.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll marry you.”
He grinned at her, and she laughed. Suddenly she felt so light and free, as if she’d grown wings. He was everything she wanted, and he loved her. He was hers, this man that made her lose her mind. And she was his.
“You’re insane,” she told him.
“Probably. Do you care?”
“No.”
He kissed her. It was a tender kiss that promised love and care, and she believed it.
They lay back down, and she curled up next to him. “The families will howl bloody murder.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.