He was the real mystery.
He was the one who held secrets and hid behind the thick walls built around his heart.
She grasped his big, sinewy shoulders, responding to his kisses with a fervent hunger the like of which she’d never experienced before. She touched and swirled and rolled her tongue with his, returning his urgent thrusts with those of her own, until the pleasure overwhelmed her and she dug her nails into his back, slid her hands down his body to cup his firm buttocks. His golden buns.
She was so hungry for him. He tasted much better than food.
He began to gently knead her breast, his fingers so magical that she melted at his touch. She let out a moan as he began to tease her nipple with his thumb, and moaned again when he teased it to a hard bud that peeked out between the cascading strands of dark hair that he’d earlier brushed over her shoulder. The wondrous sensation of her hair and his thumb rubbing across her now-engorged tip sent waves of heat coursing through her body. “Ian, I’m on fire.”
He smiled against her lips. “So am I, sweetheart.”
She loved his smile. She saw it so rarely, but tonight he had lots of smiles for her. And she loved the way he touched her, sometimes gentle, sometimes urgent, but always seeming to know what she needed and exactly when she needed it. There was a natural, manly grace to his movements, the way his muscles bunched and corded, the way they tautened and strained.
She wanted to watch him, but her eyes closed of their own accord and she felt him instead, felt the skim of his body against hers, felt his strong, solid arms around her. Felt the pucker of the vicious scar that stretched across his belly.
It wasn’t the only one. He had many scars on his body, a sign that he’d endured much cruelty, but all she felt was the gentleness of his touch and the hard heat of him against her fiery skin as he settled between her thighs and poised himself at her entrance.
She wanted so badly to take him in, as though her entire life had been building up to this one moment. “Ian, please.” She arched against him. “Tell me what to do.”
“Your body will tell you. Close your eyes, sweetheart. Feel the way we move together.” She didn’t argue, for he seemed to know what he was about, and she liked the way he began to rub against her slick opening. He let out a low growl that emanated from the back of his throat, a manly growl of arrogant satisfaction.
He thrust inside her, his movements cautious at first, but with each thrust, he went a little deeper, moved a little more urgently, until he’d fully embedded himself inside her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist to better take him in.
“Sweetheart, am I hurting you?”
“No.” She blinked her eyes open to meet his gaze. “I love the feel of you.” He’d been calling her sweetheart all evening long. She liked it. So much nicer than “Daffy,” although he hadn’t called her that in a while. Did it mean he was no longer pushing her away?
She gave no further thought to the matter. Instead, she closed her eyes and reveled in the delicious sensation of Ian’s body as he continued his thrusts. He reached deep into her soul. He stole her heart.
How could her heart ever belong to another now?
Ian made her tingle. Ian made her hot. Ian made her soar higher than she’d ever dreamed possible. Ian made her dream.
His skin felt hot and damp to her touch. His breaths were coming faster now, though she couldn’t quite tell because she was also panting with need. She heard his grunt as he moved deep inside her, and felt his thrusts, now commanding and urgent.
They were on a precipice and she was about to slip over the edge of the volcano and fall into its crater. An intensely satisfying heat swept over her body, just as she’d experienced the first time, when his mouth had been on her most intimate part. “Ian!”
He kept up the relentless pressure, each thrust sending her closer to the edge, so close she knew she was going to fall. So close. The sensation was powerful and exquisite. She wasn’t frightened, for Ian was holding her tightly in his arms. He wouldn’t let go of her. They’d tumble over the edge together. Together. That’s what he’d said he wanted.
That’s what she wanted too.
And then she did fall. Hot waves of sensation flowed over her, drew her upward in their forceful volcanic crests, each molten wave higher than the one before, hotter and more powerful as they coursed through her body with wild abandon.
Ian thrust into her twice more, and then let out a deep, throaty growl as his body pulsed and shuddered against the powerful force of his own release, his muscles so taut they appeared to be sculpted on him.
“Dillie,” he said in a whisper, spilling his seed inside her.