“It’s no longer a game,” she said, turning away from him, only to turn back again. “And you truly wouldn’t surrender. I want a man to surrender to me as much as I surrender to him. I want nothing to stand between us. I want to merge with him and become one. I want to know love, taste love, live love. I refuse to settle for anything less.”
Cullen remained silent. He had wanted all of that himself, but with Alaina, and if he couldn’t have it with her, he didn’t want it with anyone else. How then did he explain this overpowering need for Sara, and not just desire, but a need to protect her, share with her, laugh with her, comfort her?
His anger at himself caused him to be blunt. “But you settled, you married me.”
“You served a purpose,” she corrected.
“Not entirely,” he said, and approached her with a forceful stride. He wasn’t surprised that she stood her ground. There was no other place for her to go except toward the bed, and that was an invitation she didn’t intend to extend to him.
“Entirely enough,” she said, and attempted to step around him.
He reached for her and pulled her into his arms with a smile. “What do I do with you, Sara Longton? You are a stubborn woman.”
She placed her hand to his cheek. “You remember me fondly.”
He felt a solid jab to his heart. “What if I want to remember more?”
“There is no more to remember,” she said sadly.
“I disagree,” he whispered, and kissed her gently, lovingly, longingly.
“Don’t,” she murmured, easing away.
“I want you,” he said, refusing to heed her puny attempts to struggle free of him.
“No, you—”
“Don’t tell me what I think,” he said harshly, yet then kissed her softly. “You have no idea how I feel at this moment.”
“Tell me,” she urged. “I want to hear.”
“I burn with desire for you. It’s like a scorching ache I can’t douse and it grows more potent when you’re near me.” He ran his lips over hers. “Kisses quench for the moment, then heat me even more until I want to drink endlessly of you. Only you can satisfy my endless thirst, for I thirst for only you.”
“Oh, Cullen, if only I could,” she sighed.
“You can.” He kissed her again and they melted against each other, lingering in the tenderness they shared.
He eased her steadily toward the bed until together, arms wrapped around each other, they fell on the bed side by side, locked in a kiss. His hand stroked her back, moving down to cup her backside and urge her closer against him.
She submitted willingly, and he pressed into her, wanting her to feel the strength of his desire for her. Her sensuous moans intoxicated and he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to feel her naked beneath him, to get lost in the depths of her, to capture her cries of release with his lips and to taste love with her.
“I want you naked,” he whispered roughly, his breath labored from their ardent kisses. “I want to touch you, all of you.”
He heard and felt her breath catch, and he expected her to reach out and help him rid her of her clothes. Instead, she placed her hand to his chest and eased him away from her.
“Don’t do this, Sara,” he urged, reluctant to let her go. “You’ll regret it.”
“I already do,” she said.
Chapter 25
Sara left her bed and the keep as soon as her husband went off to hunt with her father the next morning. She had feigned sleep so she didn’t have to speak with Cullen when he woke. She didn’t want to face him, refused to face him, as she had last night when she crawled beneath the coverlet, hugged the edge of the bed, and pretended to fall fast asleep. In truth, she had lain awake for hours, her body throbbing for his touch, for release.
She didn’t know where she got the stamina to deny him or herself. She only knew that it was better this way. She was growing ever more accustomed to his presence each day. She could only imagine how she would feel in a month or two, after spending endless time together. How did she say good-bye to him after sleeping beside him every night, waking beside him every morning, sharing meals with him, laughing with him, kissing him, walking hand in hand and living like a wife with him? If those memories would sting, how would she ever deal with more intimate memories?
She kicked angrily at a small stone along the bumpy path to her sister’s front door. She had thought it pure genius to wed Cullen and be released from exile at the abbey. Cullen had been the answer to her endless prayers, arriving in the eleventh hour and rescuing her.
Now she felt more trapped than ever, and in a trap of her own making at that.