“Presuming I want to spend time with you,” she said tartly.
“Look at me,” he commanded in such a stern voice her heart stalled and her gaze flashed up to his. “Were you there last night? The bed is a pile of ashes, we set it so completely on fire. If you don’t want to do that again, fine. Get dressed and leave. I’ll never bother you again.”
His words spiked through her heart and she found herself pushing to her feet in a rush of pique, catching the wild flare of something in his eyes before she turned away and—
She halted, unable to make herself take another step.
Something hooked sharp and fierce behind her breastbone. Tears slammed into her eyes. She brought her fists up and pushed the heels of her hands into her clenched lids, catching a shattered breath. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t walk away from him.
“Idiot,” he said behind her, chair scraping before he pulled her back against his chest, strong arms encasing her, but in a way that felt secure and reassuring.
“I don’t want to feel this way,” she said in a whisper, voice breaking. All of her breaking. She was self-reliant. She didn’t need anything from a man.
But she needed him. This man. Who offered things, not his heart.
“How do you feel? Hmm?” One hand stole into the front of her robe and he cupped her bare breast, flicked her nipple.
She made a noise of pleasure-pain, instantly catapulted into memory and desire, but her nipples were so tender she covered his hand and stilled his caress.
“Sore?” he asked against her ear, nibbling in a way that sent shivers down her nape, all the way to the small of her back.
She arched, pushing her bottom into the hardness at his loins.
“You’re going to kill me, Henri. I ache all over and I don’t care. I want you anyway.”
“Ah, chérie. You’re hurting like this because you don’t want our time to end. I feel the same.” His mouth opened on the side of her neck, delicately sucking a mark into her skin. “But I will be very, very careful with you, I promise.”
His free hand went in below the belt and found her naked and slippery, already responding to being close to him. “You like that?”
“You know I do,” she breathed, tilting her head to the side so his kisses could reach all down the side of her neck. “But I don’t think I can.”
“Come here.” He backed up, bringing her with him.
She heard him unzip his pants and turned to see him putting on a condom. He sat in the chair and drew her to straddle him.
“Gently,” he murmured, taking it slow as he drew her down.
Even though she was tender, she breathed a sigh of relief when she was seated on him, full of his turgid heat and completely possessed by this terribly wicked sorcerer of a man.
He opened her belt and spread the robe, looking down at her breasts. His hands moved on her thighs and buttocks, caressing without urging her to move. Then he kissed her, gently and sweetly. Slowly and languorously.
“See?” he breathed against her lips. “We don’t have to be greedy if we know we have time.”
She was greedy anyway, running her hands across his chest to spread his shirt, then placing kisses there, pinching his nipples and feeling his response inside her. She smiled with secretive joy.
And she began to move instinctively, riding him in an abbreviated rock. She was so tender and sensitive she was gasping in moments, squeezing him with her powerful orgasm.
“Magnifique.” He stroked her hair back from her face, set light kisses on her cheekbone and brow and the tip of her nose. His eyes were bright green with arousal. “Do you want to stop? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t finish,” she said in an urge for him to do so, nerve endings coming alive under the fresh stimulation. She was nearly in tears because it was such an intense sensation.
“I will later, when you’re feeling better.” He cupped her face, thumbs coming together in the center of her lips, then parting to rest in the corners.
“You’re shameless, aren’t you?” she said on a trembling breath, frightened by his assumption she would be there for him later today and every day from now on. Maybe she would. Right in this second, she wanted to be whatever he needed her to be. “Don’t manipulate me through my body’s response to yours.”
“Now you won’t even accept an orgasm given freely? You are a difficult woman to please.”
She ducked her head out of his hands and tucked her forehead against his throat, nose to his collarbone so his scent filled her head.
“You won’t ever marry me.” She didn’t know if it was a refusal, an accusation, or merely a statement of terms.