Another dismissive wave of her hand. The action notched his anger higher by several degrees.
“Well?” he barked.
She took a shaky breath and pinned him with a look that choked his breath in his throat. Her eyes swam with pain. “Marc.”
“Si?” He felt his whole body stiffen in anticipation of her next words.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she murmured. For a moment, her white skin shone in the flash of a streetlight. “N-n-not tonight.”
She would not let him in. He shouldn’t care, but he did. He turned away from her and surveyed the passing city lights.
“Please,” she murmured again. “Please simply let me thank you. Leave it at that.”
Anger pulsed in him. Anger because she wouldn’t confide. Anger at himself for even wanting such a thing. He never wanted a woman to confide in him. The fact he wanted this woman’s every secret appalled and stunned him.
“Marc, please accept my thanks.”
“You can thank me with a kiss.” He turned back to her, glared at her. All he wanted from this woman was sex, his brain yelled the reminder to his heart.
She gave a tiny gasp. Her eyes widened at his tone, at the fierce scowl on his face.
“Remember,” he ground out. “Remember what I told you the last time you kissed me.”
One of her delicate hands lifted to her mouth.
“Remember what will come next.”
This was wrong. He knew it. Another demand. Another attempt at forcing her to do something she clearly didn’t want to do. Rage billowed inside him like a scarlet rain. It burned the core of him with distaste at his action. She would rightfully slam him for this. His feisty girl would blast him and he deserved it.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Why didn’t she scream at him? Hit him? He opened his mouth, ready to tell her it was wrong, to forget his evil words—
When she stunned him.
Sliding across the seat, her small hand cupped his jaw and kissed him.
* * *
She was his enchanting nymph. His seductive sprite.
His woman.
Her skin was pale as moonlight in the shadows of his bedroom. Her lithe body lay on his bed like a sacrifice. Her eyes were deep and dark as she gazed at him as he undressed. Let him survey her without trying to conceal or cover any part of herself.
This filled him with a fierce joy.
His hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants. The need for her, the agony of need he’d felt for her since the moment he laid eyes on her, throbbed through every vein, every artery. Washed away any coherent thought, leaving only a primeval hunger to take.
A tiny gasp came from her as he dropped the last of his clothes to the floor.
He was big, he knew. Yet surely a woman with experience would rejoice at this.
He stared into her wide eyes. Was this an act of hers? Did she think this shy virginal reaction would turn him on? If so, she didn’t need any act. He was more turned on than he’d ever been in his entire life.
The thought stopped him for a moment.
Every thought was swept away, though, when she wrapped her arms around her body. Trying to hide from him once more.
He would not let this happen. Sliding down on the bed, he took her into his grasp. “Abbracciami,” he demanded. ”Hold me.”
She looked straight at him as her graceful arms slowly lifted and draped around his neck. The joy at her acquiescence, her acceptance rushed through him. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his sprite was coming to him. Wanting him. Giving herself to him. If this killed him, he would savor, prolong. After all these weeks of waiting, he wanted her to make the first moves. He wanted her to show him she wanted him as desperately as he’d wanted her since they met.
His pride demanded it.
His body wanted it.
His male heart needed it.
This had nothing to do with how they met or what he’d forced her to do. With every moment she gave to him, all that was washed away, cleansing him of any remaining guilt.
He would let her take the lead. He would let her claim him.
Then he would know they were together because she wanted him. Only him.
Her skin was cool in contrast to the heat of his own. With painful intensity, he felt the brush of her breasts on his chest, the slip of her legs as they entwined with his. Lust pulsed in him like a living thing. Barely contained.
“Baciami.” His voice was hoarse, husky. “Kiss me. Again.”
Her gaze never left his as she leaned forward. Her eyes didn’t close as her lips gently touched his. The night-blue gaze pulled him in, washing over him in a clear stream of need and want. Desire burned in her stare. Yet something more, something he couldn't quite define lurked on the edges.
His heart stirred and trembled with a sudden panic.