“I won’t.” And as he said the words, he realized that they were true. “You’re the only one who can do this, and I’m behind you. ’Til the end. I was so afraid to lose you again, but I realize now that I’ve got no control over it.”
As much as it tortured him not to do everything in his power to protect her, taking the decision from her had been wrong. Looking down at her, he saw a woman who had changed drastically from the shy mouse he’d thought she was. A sense of assurance pervaded her being now. She had the courage and the skill needed to face her demons. And like Boudica, the wisdom to do what was right. They would fight side by side, and only fate could determine the outcome.
“We’ll help each other,” she said. “I’m not stupid and my pride isn’t going to get in the way of my taking any help I can get. And it’s your help I want.”
He reached out and crushed her to him. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. He lifted his head and asked, “Do you think Boudica would have forgiven me?”
“I don’t know. But I do, and she is me. Maybe it’s my life experiences that allow me to.”
He squeezed her tight. It didn’t take away the pain of the lost years, but it helped him now.
They stood, wrapped in each other, as rain began to patter on the roof above. His heart squeezed in his chest, but he spoke no words of love, and neither did she. What had formed between them was too new, too raw, and too much to process for more words. Something deep and intricate tied them together; forgiveness and understanding had created a bridge over the lake of pain.
“I need you.” Her voice was ragged, desperate.
He groaned as he bent down to take her mouth, hauling her up against him until he could feel all the curves and hollows of her body pressed to his. Her lips were soft and sweet, warm beneath his as they parted on a sigh to accept his tongue.
He fisted his hand in her hair, holding her steady so that he could explore her mouth, half afraid that she would change her mind.
It was too late now. There was no saving himself the pain of losing her. If he lost her, he’d be broken, his heart finally torn apart once and for all. He gripped her tighter, running his tongue along hers and nipping her lower lip.
Her arms clutched him fierce
ly as a desperate energy drew them together.
She clouded his mind with her soft body, scent, and the small noises she’d begun to make as he slipped his hand beneath the back of her shirt.
She tore her mouth away from his and whispered, “Your bed. Take me to your bed.”
He swept her up into his arms. Her soft mouth found the side of his neck, her tongue dancing along his skin.
Thunder boomed. He strode across the wide wooden floor as lightning lit the interior of his flat from the windows and skylights above. Lightning continued to illuminate the room as the streetlamps from below cast a soft, steady glow through the windows.
He reached his bed and gently set her down. She rose to her knees on the mattress, the waves of honey-red hair falling from the band she’d tied around it. Her eyes were hot as she began to pull at his shirt.
“Take it off,” she demanded.
“All right, my eager Diana.” He smiled as he yanked the shirt over his head. He began to unbuckle his belt, pausing to watch appreciatively as she undid the buttons of her conservative blouse.
His breath caught as she peeled the cream silk back and revealed an expanse of lightly freckled skin. Her breasts swelled out of a pale bra, her nipples hard and visible through the lace. She slipped the silk blouse off her shoulders and it fluttered to the bed behind her.
His eyes were riveted on her as she unbuttoned her slacks to reveal matching lace. He caught sight of the fiery curls visible beneath the lace and his cock throbbed painfully against his pants. He dragged them over his aching shaft and was naked in seconds.
He wanted her. Needed her. Now.
Once she was clad in nothing but the lace, he stalked toward her, reaching around her waist and lifting her up so that he could lay her upon her back. He climbed atop her, settling himself between her thighs, and they both gasped at the contact.
She was hot and soft and made for him.
“You’re more beautiful than anything I could imagine.” He gazed at her in awe. She smiled tremulously, as if she were nervous. Good—she should be nervous. He bit her earlobe and growled low, “I am going to torture you, my love, the same way that you tortured me. Until you are hot and desperate and aching, I am going to torture you. And even when you beg me, I might no’ give you what you desire. At least, no’ then.”
She gasped and he grinned at the sound, delighting in the way her eyes widened.
He began by tracing kisses down her neck, stopping briefly to bite her gently at the curve he knew excited her so much, and was rewarded by a moan and a shudder as he laved the spot with his tongue.
Impatient, she arched against him, rubbing her body along his to make him move faster. He chuckled low in his throat, content to let this game play out. This was their first time together, their real first time, and he was going to make her cry out and beg and tremble beneath him. He wanted her to come so many times she forgot who she was.
He needed to make this even. Needed to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.