She held him as tight as he held her, determined to offer him all of herself. No barriers. No defenses. Just two people connecting in a way that overwhelmed her senses.
"You undo me, Celia," he said, his voice muffled against her neck.
She smiled and continued to stroke his back, enjoying the feel of his flesh beneath her fingers.
He finally rolled away to discard the condom and then came back and pulled her into his arms so they faced each other.
"That was … amazing."
She touched his lips, still fascinated with the feel of him, the rougher textures and the softness of his mouth.
"I felt pretty savored."
He smiled and kissed her, just one light smooch that sent a giddy little thrill down her back.
"I have this fantasy. It's pretty vivid, actually."
"This I gotta hear."
He smacked her lightly on her behind. "Listen up, woman. Pay attention when your man bears his soul."
She laughed and he continued.
"It didn't quite go according to plan because I was supposed to savor you first. I planned to take a couple of hours and make love to you until you were mindless. Then I was going to take you hard and fast."
"Screwed that one up."
He smacked her again and shook his head.
"So now I have this fantasy where we have fast and furious sex. Then I savor you for … okay maybe an hour. And then we have fast, furious sex again. Then you get on top and have your wicked way with me. And then you get on your hands and knees … "
Celia put her hand over his mouth and burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, I get the picture. You're an insatiable, horny male."
"Only for you," he said seriously. "You seem to regularly star in my most-vivid fantasies. I could probably be arrested for some of them. They might not be legal in all states."
"Lucky for you, California is so progressive," she murmured.
Her heart fluttered helplessly. His words … God, his words. How could she even respond to what he'd said? He sounded so … sincere. How had they gotten to this point? It scared the living hell out of her.
"So what about you? Have any interesting fantasies about me?"
He sounded so hopeful that she had to laugh again. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth against the muscled wall of his chest.
"I'm liking the savor part a lot."
"Me, too," he murmured as he reached down to tug her chin high enough that he could kiss her again.
He was a man of his word. He spent every bit of the next hour driving her mindless with his hands and his mouth. His tongue. Have mercy, his tongue.
There wasn't an inch of her he left untouched. He put his stamp on her. She felt branded. Possessed.
His tongue circled her most sensitive point nestled among the soft folds of her femininity. He worked her to the very brink of orgasm, until she quivered uncontrollably. She shivered when he pulled away and then finally he slid into her, long and slow. Hot and so tender. So very tender.
She squeezed her eyes shut but then he pressed gentle kisses to her lids until she opened them again. He stared down at her with such intensity she forgot to breathe. His eyes burned a fiery trail over her face, stroking and caressing her cheeks and her mouth.
He was dangerous. Oh, yes, so dangerous. She had no protection from him, and worse, she didn't want any. He could easily find his way into her heart.
Maybe he already had.
That should scare her to death, but instead, a warm, comfortable feeling settled over her. Contentment.
She stared into his eyes and saw herself. Saw them. Together.
He rocked over her, taking his time as he stoked the fire inside her higher and higher.
The strain was evident on his face. He held himself in check as he drove her relentlessly toward release. He wasn't going to let go of his own until she reached hers.
She twined her body tightly with his, loving the sensation of being so connected, so intrinsically linked.
"Evan," she whispered against his mouth.
He kissed her. Hard. "Give it to me. Let go."
The breathless words unlocked something deep inside her. She arched into him, giving herself unreservedly. Wave after wave of the most beautiful pleasure rolled through her, fanning out and rippling.
He groaned and followed until she wasn't sure whose pleasure was whose and where hers began and ended.
He eased down, and she welcomed him into her arms. She pillowed his head on her chest, his mouth a breath away from her nipple. He kissed the plump swell of her breast but didn't move. Their hearts thudded against each other and neither did anything to break the silence.
What could be said? She knew she didn't have words. She didn't want to dissect the moment. Words would only ruin the euphoric aftermath of an experience she was at a loss to describe anyway.
She ran her hand idly through his mussed hair. At his nape the crisp hairs were slightly damp with sweat. She inhaled, savoring the uniquely masculine smell of sex and sweat. It was intoxicating and erotic.
"Does it make me a bastard that I'm already fantasizing about the part where you climb on top of me and have your wicked way?" he mumbled against her chest.
She smiled. "As soon as I regain the feeling in my legs, I'll see what I can do about that particular fantasy."
Eleven
Waking in bed with Evan didn't bring about the immediate what-the-hell-have-I-done feeling she would have thought. No, when her eyes opened, she registered a fantastic male body wrapped around hers, and instead of shoving him over and wailing on about how dumb she was, she snuggled deeper into his embrace and soaked up every minute of the lazy morning.
"Good morning," Evan murmured against her temple.
"Mmm."
He chuckled softly and rolled away for a moment.
"Damn."
"I don't like that damn," she grumbled. "Bad things are going to happen after that word."
He sighed in regret. "Sorry. Yeah, we have to get up."
"What time is it?"
"Noon."
Her eyes popped open and she scrambled up to look over his body at the clock.
"Noon? I've never slept until noon in my life!"
He grinned and tugged her down onto his chest. "Glad I could contribute to your downfall then."
"So arrogant," she said. "Now let me go, otherwise I'll look like a bag lady for your brother's wedding."
"I like bag ladies."
She snorted. "Ladies carrying Hermes Berkin bags maybe."
He gave her a puzzled look that suggested he didn't have a clue what she was talking about. She rolled her eyes and then pried herself out of his arms.
"Come on, get up," she coaxed. "The sooner we get it over with, the sooner you can see your brother and his new wife on their way, and we can go home."
He threw off the covers, and she nearly squeaked as he got up from the bed, stark naked. Then she realized that she wasn't any more clothed, and she fled for the bathroom, his laughter ringing in her ears.
Two hours later, dressed appropriately, they made their way to the terrace where the lovebirds would exchange their vows. As they reached the door leading out, Evan slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side.
Warmth spread through her cheeks until she remembered that this was all for show. She'd been stupid to forget that even for a moment.
When navigating the chairs and the people mingling became too difficult, he loosened his hold on her waist and tucked her hand in his instead. His fingers laced with hers and his thumb rubbed her palm as he smiled and said his hellos.
The preceremony was a bit of a madhouse and was without structure. Everyone just gathered on the terrace overlooking the cozy inlet, talking and visiting until finally Evan's father stood close to the floral arch and raised his hands for attention.
"If everyone will take their seats, I believe we're ready to begin."
Evan led Celia to the front row where they sat beside Lucy and Marshall. Evan kept a firm hold on her hand until Bettina made her appearance.
Despite his seeming indifference, Evan's demeanor changed as soon as the ceremony began. His fingers loosened from hers until she drew her hand away to rest in her own lap. He made no move to prevent the action.
His gaze was locked on Bettina and his brother, and he wasn't smiling as the rest of the attendees were. He looked like a stone pillar. No emotion.
What made it worse was when Lucy started sending sidelong glances at Evan. She'd obviously picked up on his coldness.
It begged the question as to whether Evan was as unaffected as he'd reported. Did he still love Bettina? If he was to be believed, he never had, but then did a man like Evan fall in love?
His association with Bettina could hardly be deemed romantic. He'd formed a shopping list for a prospective bride and he hadn't looked far. The first suitable candidate he'd found he put a ring on her finger and that was that.
Celia glanced down at the diamond gleaming on her third finger and winced.