One Night to Risk It All(49)

Instead he waited, frozen inside. Even his heart had stopped. He was certain of it. Because he couldn’t breathe, not at all. The world might even have stopped turning, just waiting, on pause, for the next words that might come out of her mouth.

“I love you.”

She said it again, and it all started again. His heart pounding hard, causing a shift inside of him that made him feel like he was crumbling, each beat compromising the stone walls built up around him for protection.

He couldn’t think of what to say. Or what to do. And that rarely happened to him. When it did, though, Rachel Holt seemed to be the cause of it.

“Why?” he asked.

He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but the minute he did, he realized it was the word pounding through his head. Because it made no sense. Because no one ever had. And he wasn’t sure why this beautiful, incredible, ridiculous woman who seemed to light the world on fire when she smiled, would feel that way about him.

Not when he’d used her. Seduced her for revenge.

“Because I cried in front of you. I want to seduce you, and be seduced by you, and say dirty words for you. I can sing off-key in front of you. And you don’t judge me, or look down on me. You accept me that way, and I feel like I can accept myself that way, too.”

“Is that all?”

“Achieving self-acceptance isn’t big enough for you? Fine, that’s not all. The sex is good, too.”

He didn’t feel torn about what to do anymore. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, kissed her until neither of them could breathe. Until his lungs were filled with her. Her scent. Everything.

Until his blood was so hot with lust he thought it would scald him inside.

He felt wild. Out of control. Unequipped to accept what she’d given him and unable to return it.

But one thing he knew for certain was that she was his. Love would make her stay. He’d truly done it. He had made her love him, and now that she did, she wouldn’t go.

He’d seen that growing up. He’d seen it with his parents.

She would stay. His Rachel would stay.

He felt the need, the intense, unendurable need, to brand her and solidify that bond. Vows. Legal documents. He needed that marriage now. Needed to strengthen his hold.

Because she couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her.

“Show me how much you love me,” he said, his voice a growl he didn’t recognize. The feelings in him utterly foreign, something that was also beyond his recognition.

“How?” she asked.

“Show me,” he repeated, feeling desperate.

She pushed his shirt from his shoulders and kissed his neck, his chest, her fingers working at his belt, and the closure of his pants. Soon she had him naked, soft hands skimming over his body.

He just wanted to drown in it all. In her touch. In the moment. To never have this moment pass so that he could live in it forever.

But it was already passing, changing. And he couldn’t regret it because of where it put her hands. The way that she cupped him. Squeezed him. Teased him. Her hands sure on his body, her lips soft, her tongue hot and slick.

She moved away from him and a kick of fire burst through him. Her not touching him was going to drive him insane, but he had to let her stop, because he had to see what she would do next.

He was powerless to do anything but watch her.

She took the lacy nightie off, exposed her body to him slowly. And in her eyes he saw her emotions. She wasn’t pausing to make jokes. Wasn’t interrupting the moment, the tension, with a comment.

It was the first time she’d simply met his eyes and taken her clothes off.

He was glad she wasn’t talking because he was sure he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to.

She returned to him, full breasts pressed against his chest. He pushed his thigh between her legs, felt her wetness on his skin. Her desire for him.

He put his hand on her lower back and rocked against her. Her head fell back, lush lips parted, a sweet sound of pleasure escaping her mouth.

He cupped her chin, held her steady, bending to kiss her as he continued to move, continued to pleasure her.

He would give her this. Not love. But this. And she loved him, so it would be enough. Because she’d said he made her feel good. And that the sex mattered.

He would show her just how good he could make her feel. Just how much sex mattered. He would give her everything that he had to give. Everything.

He slipped his thigh from between her legs and walked her backward to the bed, pushing her down so that her butt was resting on the mattress and her legs were over the side. “I need you,” he said, the words painful to force out. “You don’t know how much.”

He hooked her legs over his hips and thrust into her. Her back bowed off of the bed, her round breasts thrust into prominence. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it in deep, until she moaned. Until he felt her internal muscles tighten around his cock.

She grabbed his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his back as he thrust into her, hard and uncontrolled. He didn’t have it in him to be measured. Wasn’t able to take his time.


He needed her too badly. He needed to keep going, to run from the roar of blood in his ears, to push toward a release that would make the ache in his chest go away. That would make everything clear and calm. An orgasm to purge him of all the longing and pain that were weighing him down.