Wrapping her legs around his thighs, she begged. “I can’t bear it, Larkin. Do something. Say something. Please. I need you.”
Perhaps he had been waiting for a sign. Or the white flag of surrender. Whatever the reason, he finally snapped. Withdrawing almost completely, he slammed into her, shaking the bed and shouting hoarsely as he repeated the rhythm again and again. Reality blurred. The lack of light was disorienting. Only the connection forged by his determined thrusts kept her grounded.
Something frightening in intensity built at the spot where he entered her. She’d climaxed earlier, but this was different. That had been an ecstatic relief. This climb to orgasm was darker, more erotic, infinitely terrifying. Everything inside her clamored for more and more.
Larkin’s skin was hot and damp against her breasts. His mighty legs parted hers inexorably, giving no quarter. She wanted to wait for him, wanted to feel the dual explosions of release. But her body betrayed her.
Fingernails digging into his back, she cried out and hung on as everything around her incinerated, flared to a white-hot heat and vaporized. Vaguely she heard Larkin’s growling shout as he followed her. He rode the final wave endlessly, his body claiming hers again and again until her world went dark as exhaustion rolled over her.
* * *
Hours later, Larkin woke up. Even with the bed hangings closed, the faint light of dawn peeked in through cracks. He cataloged the current situation with bemusement. Winnie lay sprawled beside him, facedown, her cute little ass only half covered by the sheet. Larkin was hard. And he wanted her again. But he also didn’t want Winnie to be embarrassed by someone discovering that they had slept together.
Later he would sneak away with her somewhere on the property and tell her what last night meant to him, but for now, he had to protect her privacy.
His hand hovered above her head, wanting to touch her hair. But it might wake her. Though it pained him both mentally and physically, he eased from the cozy nest they had created, found his boxers and stepped into them. With the robe in his hand, he opened the bedroom door an inch and peered into the hall. No sign of movement.
With a sigh of relief, he made it to his room undetected. It was the custom, when all the cousins were in residence, to take an early-morning hike together. Annalise was still nursing the baby, but the guys would be expecting him. Maybe if he walked hard enough and fast enough, he could ignore the giddy feeling in his chest that made him want to stay in bed all day. Winnie Bellamy was dangerous. What in God’s name had he done? He had crossed his own line in the sand, but somehow he had to maintain a degree of separation. He needed some space to make sense of this.
* * *
Winnie was having the most wonderful dream. Larkin Wolff was making love to her. And his eyes were telling her she was the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.
Then her alarm started beeping. Groaning at her own stupidity, she reached for her phone and realized she wasn’t in her bedroom at home. It took her three swipes at the bed hangings to poke an arm out, locate her phone and silence the alarm she’d forgotten to turn off before she went to bed.
Only then did she fully realize where she was. Memories of the night came flooding back. Her head snapped around. The other side of the bed was empty. The pillow was still dented, but Larkin was gone.
Humiliation made her tremble, but she shoved back the negative emotion. There could be a million reasons Larkin hadn’t lingered to say good morning.
Her hand over her mouth and her chest heaving with nausea, hateful words from the past echoed inside her head. You’re a naive fool, Winifred. No man will ever want you for the long haul. You’re ridiculously clumsy in bed, you look like a scarecrow half the time and you haven’t got an ounce of feminine allure. No one cares about you. Do yourself a favor. Find the nearest nunnery and sign up, ’cause you’re a disaster as a woman.