“Oh,” she breathed as she relished every last sensation, “I love having you inside of me.”
He crushed her mouth to his again, and then there was only pleasure as he slowly slid nearly out of her, then back in. She gasped again, and when he lifted his head to stare down at her to make sure he wasn’t hurting her, she smiled—the happiest smile of her life.
“It feels good. So good.”
His groan came along with his next kiss, and he held them connected like that long enough that she could feel the rhythmic pulse of his erection against her sensitive flesh, the same beat as his heart against hers.
She didn’t know how long he kissed her like that, with their tongues tangling, their bodies pressed fully together, totally connected in every way they could be. But by the time he finally began to move his hips again it felt as if it was a dance they had practiced a thousand times before.
One to which only the two of them knew the steps.
All her life she’d been a student of sensation, so in the midst of more sensory input than she’d ever experienced before, Tatiana tried to memorize her feelings and emotions, along with the heavy press of his muscular thighs over hers, the rasp of his chest hair against her br**sts, and the delicious taste of his tongue on hers. But then, he moved one of his hands between their bodies, and the sweet slide of his fingertip over her clitoris promptly stole every last thought from her brain.
“Ian.” His name was a plea on her lips as she lifted her hips to try to get closer to his hand and take him deeper all at the same time. “I need—”
“Shhh,” he soothed. “I know what you need, sweetheart.”
No one had ever looked at her the way he did then. She’d seen desire before. She’d seen affection. She’d seen admiration.
But she’d never seen such possession, as if Ian was claiming not only her body, not just her heart, but her very soul with every stroke of his fingers over her aroused flesh, with every thrust of his hard heat inside her. And no one had ever used an endearment that sounded so sweet to her ears.
She hadn’t wanted to seduce, or to trick, Ian into being with her. She’d wanted it to happen because he was all in, just the way she was. But knowing how strong his self-control was, she was certain that he couldn’t possibly have let one accidental kiss change his mind. Which meant that somewhere between yesterday morning in her kitchen and this afternoon in his office, he must have already made up his mind to have her.
And to love her the way she loved him.
“I always knew you would,” she whispered against his lips.
“All you have to do,” he said in a deep voice that warmed every inch of her, “is let me give you everything you need.”
With each sweet yet sinful word he spoke, she grew wetter, hotter, needier. Every muscle in her body was tightening down inch by inch as he took her higher and higher with every caress, every stroke. And when he urged her—Come for me again, Tatiana. Show me how good I’m making you feel. Let me feel it, too—that tightening gave way to such freedom, such flight, that his arms around her and his heavy weight above her, were the only ways she could possibly have remained connected to the physical plane.
She’d never known an orgasm could go on and on forever, starting with an explosion of bright red behind her closed eyelids, then orange and yellow, before swinging back around to another bolt of scarlet red like the finale of a fireworks show.
But just when she thought she’d already hit the highest possible peak—beyond bliss, way past ecstasy—he gripped her hips tightly and whispered her name as he grew impossibly bigger inside of her.
“Ian.” She loved the way his name felt on her lips, loved the way his body felt inside hers.
But most of all, she loved the love that she felt for him.
As he came closer and closer to his own release, his thrusts grew harder, went deeper, but Tatiana still wanted more, more, more.
She moved with him, lifting her hips into his as he slammed into her again and again, their bodies slippery with sweat. She kissed, licked, bit at his chest, his neck, his jaw, until he captured her mouth with his. And it was his kiss that sent her, awed, tumbling over the sweet edge of ecstasy again.
She’d wanted everything from Ian. His body. His pleasure. His laughter. His teasing. His love. And when he finally let loose the final reins of control and climaxed inside of her, it was knowing that he’d finally given her all of himself, without holding anything back, that was the ultimate bliss.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A virgin? How could she have been a virgin?
Ian searched his brain to think of any virgin he might have been with, but even his first time as a teenager, the girl hadn’t been inexperienced.
He had no idea how to treat a virgin, but even if he had, he and Tatiana were clearly long past that point now that he’d taken her the way he had.
Rough.
Fast.
And with no control whatsoever.
The truth was that even if she’d been as experienced as he’d wanted to believe she was, it still wouldn’t have been right to take her like that. Just as it wasn’t right for him to want to stay here like this forever, her curves pressed tightly to his as he lay over her where he’d all but collapsed from the force of his own orgasm. Especially when she was small enough that he knew he must be crushing her.
He’d only just begun to shift his weight off her when her arms tightened around his neck.
“No. Don’t go.” He was still inside her and when she moved to pull him closer, blood rushed south again. “Not yet.”
But guilt was already hitting him so hard that he forced himself to get up and walk into the en suite bathroom. Inside the luxuriously tiled room, he made himself look into the mirror.
The face looking back at him should have been full of remorse, and the strength of will to send temptation away. But what he saw, instead, was a man who looked stunned from having just unwrapped an unexpectedly beautiful gift.
From the moment Tatiana had appeared in his office on Friday night, her questions, her vitality, her laughter—hell, her sheer presence—had thrown him off again and again. Even now, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to go back out into the bedroom and not take her just as rough, just as fast, just as desperately, when what she had really deserved was flickering candles, soft lights, romance...and tenderness.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, silently cursing himself for the bastard he was. For so long, he’d painted women—especially beautiful ones—with one brush. But he’d been wrong about Tatiana, so damned wrong about her not being as innocent as she seemed, simply because she was a famous actress.