Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(105)

The stark hunger in his eyes emboldened her. "I want to go back in time," she faltered. "I made a mistake once. I want to try and fix it."

He nodded in silent encouragement.

She gathered all her courage. "I picked the wrong man to lose my virginity to. I didn't have the guts to go after the man I really wanted."

"Oh, Erin—"

"It should've been you, the first time." She rushed on, desperate to get the thought out before it fragmented. "But it wasn't. And it was awful. It closed me down for years. I didn't even want to try to have sex again. Until I made love to you."

His fists clenched. "What did he do to you?"

The steely anger in his voice frightened her, and she shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, nothing like that," she assured him. "It wasn't his fault he was the wrong man. It wasn't his fault that I didn't love him, and I didn't really want him. It was more my mistake than his."

"I don't buy it, Erin," he said. "You have a real bad habit of taking responsibility for things that aren't your fault."

She threw up her hands. "Maybe, but so what? I don't want to think about that, or about him. Tonight, there's magic. Tonight, I think I could go back in time. Be nineteen again. And have the first time be with you. Beautiful and perfect. Even… holy."

He moved toward her, and took both her hands in his. "I love you, Erin." His voice was a fierce whisper.

She struggled to respond. Language had utterly deserted her.

"I didn't want to scare you off," he said. "I didn't want to say that too soon. But if you want me to make love to you like that, then it has to be said." He lifted her hands, kissed them reverently. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she burst out. "I always have, Connor. Always."

The truth was out, naked and stark and beautiful. Revelations unfolded inside the secret places in their hearts, like flowers blooming wide, releasing their sweetness to the wind.

"You know what this means, Erin," Connor said. "This is like our wedding night. You're mine, I'm yours. Forever."

Flickering shadows danced and swirled in her vision as tears welled up and flashed down her face. "Yes," she whispered.

Their lips met, in a solemn, reverent kiss. Not a kiss to coax or to conquer, but a kiss to seal a pact. A kiss to break an enchantment.

Or to unleash one.

Connor gave himself up to her fantasy, with all his longing and passion and generous tenderness. He pushed the nightgown off her shoulders, and followed its sliding path with his mouth and hands.

He made love to her with lips and tongue, with the soft warmth of his breath. He sank to his knees and tugged the nightgown over her hips until it pooled around her feet, and hid his face against her mound, worshiping her very essence. They were poised in perfect balance on a knife's edge of awe and bliss, suspended by grace. With no fear of falling.

Even the struggle to get his clothes off, the muffled laughter, was imbued with reverent wonder. They were as awkward as if it truly were the first time. Connor's fingers trembled so much that he dropped the condom. When Erin knelt to retrieve it for him, she got sidetracked, allured by his phallus: hot and smooth and hard to bursting, weeping delicious, salty drops of passionate need. AH hers to caress and cherish. He gasped with agonized pleasure when she took him in her mouth, but after only a few tender, sliding strokes he pulled her back up.

"None of that, sweetheart. Tonight's all about you," he said. He rolled the condom over himself, pulled down the duvet and pressed her into the cool sheets. His body shook.

She stroked his hair. "Are you OK?" she asked.

"I'm scared." His voice was low and tense. "This has to be perfect for you. This sets the tone for the rest of forever. I think I'm entitled to be a little nervous."

She pulled him tighter. "But you can't go wrong," she assured him. "It's like you were made for me. Everything you do is perfect."

"God. You are such a sweetheart." He smiled at her. "The way you stroke my ego. Stroke away. Let it swell up like a hot air balloon. I love it. Can't get enough of it."

"But it's true, Connor," she protested. "Every time you kiss me, every time you touch me, I—oh, God…"

Her words choked off as he pushed her legs wider and nudged himself inside. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Do you want me now?"

Pleasure bloomed around his gentle invasion. Every point of contact glowed, incandescent. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he pushed inside. The yielding rush of emotion was so strong, so sweet. It echoed in his eyes, reverberating between them until she wanted to cry out at the sheer beauty of it. Her man, her mate.

She reached up to brush away the hair that had fallen across his face. Her hand came away wet. She pulled his face to hers and kissed away his tears, moved beyond words. She tasted their hot, salty magic, and the spell was complete. They were bound for all eternity.

They began to move, rocking together in delicious, liquid accord.

He froze. "Oh, no. Not possible. This is so f*cking cruel."

Her eyes popped open, alarmed. "What's not possible?"

"This bed squeaks!" He was outraged. "You didn't tell me you had a squeaky bed when you lured me up here with salacious promises!"