I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine. The words filtered through his subconscious. Their deeper meaning threatened to invade his mind, but it splintered apart with the force of his desire.
Ana tore her lips from his, her breath fracturing as she neared her peak. He caught a delicate earlobe between his lips, his own need clamouring for release. Minute spasms caressed his shaft. He groaned, watched her eyes flutter closed as her bottom pushed forcefully against his pelvis.
‘Bastien!’ She grasped his arm, convulsions raking through her as she gave in to her climax.
With a roar that drowned out her cries he thrust one last time. He came with a rush that emptied every last coherent thought from his mind, leaving him free to soar as he’d never soared before.
At the back of his mind he knew he held her too tightly, that he risked bruising her soft skin, but he needed to hold on because she represented the only safe thing to hang on to as he experienced an unprecedented level of pleasure.
Bastien told himself it was impossible, that he was merely imagining it, but he closed his eyes, unwilling to confront his feelings as spasms continued to rake his body.
When they finally subsided he dropped one last, spent kiss on her jaw. Words, unfamiliar and unnerving, trembled on the edges of his mind.
‘You were magnifique, ma petite,’ he croaked. He wanted to say more, but he stopped himself just in time. He was already way out of his comfort zone.
* * *
Ana came awake slowly. Which should have warned her that something was different. Normally she awoke instantly, her mind fresh, alert.
It was almost as if her subconscious wanted to protect her from the harsh reality of the morning after.
She knew immediately she was alone.
His scent clung to the sheets. She steeled herself not to bury her face in the pillow, breathe deeply and imprint his potent smell on her senses for all time.
He’d kept his word.
One night only. The fact that he hadn’t stuck around till morning caused her heart to shrivel with pain. He’d slept with her and now he was done with her.
Remembering their lovemaking—how wanton and needy she’d been—brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. That last time, just as dawn had broken, she’d thought she’d die with pleasure...had even lost touch with reality for several seconds.
Was this what drove her mother? Why she chased after men with such relentless purpose? If this feeling was what she experienced every time she found a new man then Ana could understand a small measure of why her mother did what she did.
Ana’s every sinew sang with fulfilment even though she knew she’d never relive this experience again.
The knowledge shortened her breath, lodged fear deep in her heart, making her fiercely glad Bastien wasn’t around. She had a hard enough time hiding her feelings from him normally. Raw and naked like this he would have spotted her turmoil in seconds. Every single promise she’d made to stay away from him had come to nothing. In the end she’d fallen into his arm with damning ease.
She shifted and immediately her body reminded her of last night. She replayed his hoarse cries in her mind, her own pleasured gasps as she’d attained peak after peak of bliss.
Bastien had helped her to explore the hitherto terrifying sensuality that had made her fear intimacy. And for that she’d always be grateful.
But the night was over.
Sitting up, she raked a slow hand through her tangled hair and tried to stem the deep yearning in her heart. She had no business yearning. She just had to focus on getting through the next few weeks. Then she could focus on the rest of her life.
Standing, she snatched up her clothes, deliberately keeping her gaze from the rumpled bed. Donning her skirt and top, she quickly left Bastien’s room.
But, standing under the spray of the shower, Ana couldn’t stop her hands caressing her skin. The deep knowledge that something fundamental had changed in her was unshakeable.
Unwilling to dwell on her thoughts, she hurriedly dressed in a grey linen skirt and a pink cashmere top. Leaving her hair loose, she applied a light gloss to her lips. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she went downstairs, her heart clambering into her throat at the thought of seeing Bastien again.
She found him at the dining table, showered and dressed in a blue shirt over which he wore a black sweater. She couldn’t see the rest of his attire from where she lingered in the doorway, but she knew it would be no less immaculate. His head was bent over his newspaper, a lock of dark golden hair falling over his brow.
The yearning rushed back, fiercer than ever. Ana stood frozen in the doorway as the realisation of how much yearning she seemed to do around Bastien hit home.
He raised his head and speared her with those mesmerising eyes. With a casual flick of his wrist he discarded the paper, rose and approached her.
One hand traced her jaw, caressed it slowly until he captured her nape. Holding her still, he kissed her, deep and long.