ONE NIGHT ONLY

Chapter 14

A weird sound erupted out of Philip’s throat—part laugh, part sob, part growl—and he tightened his fingers on Rosa’s flesh, in a sudden fury at this woman whose every laugh, smile and unexpected action tore him to pieces.

What was she trying to do to him? Did she think this was a game? Did she not know what this moment meant to him? How long he’d waited and dreamed of her exactly like this? What did it mean to her?

He frowned up at her, his fear and desperation making him crazy. Her pliant body stiffened, but she didn’t pull back and he wasn’t letting her go anyway. "You don’t have to do this."

"I’m dying to do this," she told him.

Cursing her for reducing him to this mess and unearthing the secret he’d hoped to hide, at least for a little while longer, until he was sure she could return his feelings, he flung the words at her like a weapon. "I’m in love with you."

Capturing her reaction so that he would remember it every day of his life, he inched his fingers under her panties to the petal-soft flesh between her thighs and watched her eyes darken.

"No-ooo," she said on a moan.

"Oh, yeah."

Her nipples, he noticed, had tightened down to hard points, as irresistible as fresh blackberries. Pulling her closer and ignoring her bra, he opened his mouth over one and sucked it, hard.

Rosa cried out, the sound choked and earthy, and her head fell back as though she was on the verge of passing out with the pleasure. Good. Crooning and stroking now, he glided his fingers in all that hot, thick honey, taking care to lubricate the hard bud that was the center of their joint existence. Her hips undulated and he worked her, back and forth, slow millimeter by slow millimeter.

"Ah-ahh." Her voice rose and her face contorted with a terrible beauty that was exactly what he’d imagined and somehow a billion times better. "Don’t stop," she panted. "Don’t stop."

She was close, he knew. It had been years since she’d made love, so it wouldn’t take much, but he wanted her to know who she was with. He was driving her wild and there was no room for any ghosts between them.

"Open your eyes. Look at me."

As though in a trance, she obeyed, staring down at him with glittering eyes. Her face was flushed and bright and a thrilling sheen of sweat ran across her forehead and between her breasts. His rigid penis jerked, straining for her against the tight front of his jeans.

Ruthlessly tamping down his own lust, Philip stroked her again and watched the need heighten. "I’m in love with you and I want you to love me—"

"I can’t—" she began.

"—and I want your body"—he dipped his fingers inside her silky core this time, and her knees buckled— "and I want your soul, and I want your heart."

"Ah." He heard the rising crescendo in her breathy cries, felt the building tension as she writhed against him. "Philip. Philip."

God, his name sounded good when she said it.

"I want every part of you." Pulling his fingers free, he sucked them into his mouth—delicious—and watched her almost swoon as he tasted her. "I want you to watch me make you come."

This was too much intimacy for her; the sudden wariness in her eyes was a dead giveaway. Too bad he wasn’t in a merciful mood.

"Please," she whispered.

"Watch me."

"Please. Don’t."

He did.