Placing his head between her legs, he pressed her legs apart and took a long, wide taste.
A shock of pleasure ripped through her. She cried out, arching her back, trying to pull away from pleasure so intense it was almost pain. But he held her down with his strong hands and forced her to accept the slow lick of his tongue against her wet core. He played her like an instrument—swirling the tip of his tongue against her hard, aching nub one moment, lapping her with its full width the next. He slipped his tongue an inch inside her, then a fingertip, then two. And all the while she felt his hands stretching her thighs wide as he licked and suckled the most sensitive, secret part of her.
Tension coiled low inside her belly, building and tightening through her body. Her hands gripped the black silk sheets in tight fists as she twisted her hips beneath him. Trying to get closer? Trying to break free? She no longer knew, but the pleasure was too intense. She was afraid she would soon pass out. Afraid that she…
That she…
As if from a distance she heard her voice cry out as her body began to shake with growing bursts of agonizing pleasure. Bracing his arms around her, he moved his hips inside her thighs. She panted, writhing beneath him as she started to lose control, as her vision started to go black.
Sheathing his huge, hard shaft in a condom, he planted himself between her legs. With incredible self-control, he pushed himself only a single inch inside her.
She forgot to breathe. Her cries grew in her own ears, became incessant, became desperate. Words came out of her mouth she almost didn’t recognize as her own—words that sounded almost like begging…#p#分页标题#e#
Shaking, he pushed himself another inch inside her. She gripped his shoulders, straining for more. His eyes were closed, but she saw beads of sweat on his forehead from the effort to hold himself back.
It was only when he heard her start to swear at him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, that his eyes flew open. He looked down at her, his gaze dark and hungry, and a growl came from the back of his throat. “Admit you want me.”
“I want you,” she panted.
With a massive, brutal thrust, he pushed himself inside her, so wide and deep that she gasped in shock. He filled and stretched her to the limit. Pulling back, he thrust again, gripping her shoulders, holding her against the mattress as if to prevent her escape. He thrust again, faster, until he rode her hard and deep. The antique bedframe creaked beneath the violence of his possession, swayed perilously beneath them. As the last vestiges of his self-control frayed, he rode her with increasing intensity, forgetting to be gentle, forgetting everything but blinding, brutal need.
She heard his low, hoarse moan build to a shout as the wooden headboard rattled, pounding against the wall. He impaled her completely, touching her heart, and she screamed as the first waves of new fulfillment washed over her. His low voice joined her in ecstasy, and in that instant of black joy she wept without tears and felt the world crash beneath her.
Afterward, they held each other. She felt the warmth of his body against hers. It could have been moments or hours later when she slowly opened her eyes.
Théo’s eyes were still closed as he held her against his naked body, protecting her with his strong arms, caressing her, keeping her close. Carrie started to put her arms around him, only to discover that two fragments of the black silk sheet were still in her hands, ripped by her fists.
Closing her eyes, she dropped the fabric and pressed her cheek against his warm, naked chest. She took a deep breath. It would be so hideously easy to fall in love with him again.
Her eyes flew open. She couldn’t love him. He didn’t want her love. He was a selfish bastard, foolish enough to believe love was a fantasy. He wanted her to resign herself to a loveless marriage, full of empty luxury.
But she’d just slept with him anyway, risking her heart. Risking everything, since she knew from experience how a condom could fail.
Who was the fool now?
The coverlet fell off her shoulders as she sat up naked in bed.
“Where are you going?” he asked lazily behind her.
“Nowhere,” she whispered.
It was just sex, she told herself fiercely. Only sex. Meaningless. But she had a lump in her throat. She’d surrendered Théo everything, knowing that she could not give a man her body without also soon giving him her heart.
No, she told herself. She suddenly felt like crying. I won’t love him again. I can’t.
She felt his dark assessing gaze behind her. Could he read her feelings? Did he know that part of her would always love him? That her supposed hatred was nothing more than a desperate attempt to protect her broken heart?