She obeyed and he surged forward. Fire flashed straight to her sex, mixing with the blast of pain as he took her innocence. Then he was all the way in, buried deep, and she surrounded him. She felt every inch of him. His girth stretching her madly. The long thick vein. The way his cock pulsed with energy and hunger. Every one of his heartbeats. She didn’t take her eyes from his, but she breathed deeply, trying to decide if she wanted to cry or beg him to move.
He remained very still, her muscles clutching him tightly, holding him in a vise. She didn’t look away from his eyes, obeying his directive, feeling held by him, feeling soothed by the way his gaze held hers. The stinging and burning subsided slowly and her muscles began to ease their panicked grip on him.
“Feel better?”
There was pure gravel in his voice. The sound moved over her, stroking her skin, bringing her body to a fever pitch. His eyes were so intense for a moment she couldn’t find her own voice to answer him. He looked like sin incarnate. If he was the devil, and she knew he wasn’t from heaven, she wanted to burn in hell with him.
She nodded.
“Baby, I want to hold you, but if I lie on you, my hips are going to be cradled in yours and those lacerations might tear open even more. Just keep looking at me.” Now his voice slid over her like velvet. She shivered. Trembled. Was desperate for something out of reach that only he could provide.
She nodded again, moving her hips experimentally. That got her a smile from him and it took what remained of her breath away. She noticed he didn’t do it that often around anyone else, and that made it all the more sensual and intimate.
Gino stared down at the woman who had somehow wrapped herself around his heart. He didn’t know how it had happened or even when, only that he couldn’t do without her. She was beautiful to him, physically astoundingly gorgeous, but more than her looks, she was everything he wanted in a woman. He’d never considered that his dream woman really existed, or that if she did, he would find her.
Gino had no real respect for authority. He was the authority. Arrogant, yeah. Completely confident. Absolutely. Dominant. No question. He could be as cold as ice, not feeling a thing. He didn’t mind what others thought of him and he didn’t mind fucking someone up.
Zara was intelligent and had a sense of humor. She was soft inside. Empathetic. Sweet as candy. She followed his lead without hesitation. She never wanted to hurt a single soul. He was the complete opposite of her. She was quiet and soothed the demon in him, when he wanted to do violence to the world in general.
He wanted his woman to be his. He didn’t want to share her with the rest of the world. Not in the sense that Zara couldn’t go out and share her work, he’d be proud of her for that. It was about her focus. Her center. He needed to be that for her—and he was. He needed to be able to tell her what to do at times and have her do it just because she wanted to please him. He needed her trust in him. It was a lot to ask of a woman and he knew that. In return, he would give her anything and everything. He had the means and the desire. He needed to know he was her obsession, just as she was his. Maybe it was a fucked-up way to love, but it was his way.
He waited until he felt the viselike grip of her tight inner muscles relax their hold on his cock. Taking a breath, watching her closely, he withdrew slowly, feeling the friction around his shaft. The pleasure/pain was almost too much. It felt like a thousand fingers gripped him tightly and massaged. Her eyes widened, and he surged forward. Her mouth opened in shock. Her breasts gave a sexy jolt, jiggling for him, drawing his attention so he wanted to fill his mouth with her.
Moving in her body was paradise. Fire radiated from his groin, spreading out of control down his thighs and up to his belly. Flames rolled there, hotter than hell, hotter than anything he’d ever experienced. He knew she would be like this—surrounding him with that silken fist that was so tight he thought his head might explode.
Every time he withdrew to thrust forward, he wasn’t certain if his cock could make its way through her sheath until he was buried deep. He was as gentle as possible, when he wanted to throw caution to the wind and drive home over and over, as hard and fast and as deep as possible. This was all for her. He tried to make it that way, but it was almost impossible when she was practically strangling his shaft. The head of his cock felt like it might explode. He could feel each surge of hot liquid as he pushed deep.
Her face and body flushed. Her eyes had gone wide with a kind of shock. Her hair had come loose, or maybe he’d pulled it free, and it was all around her, spread on the blanket like red flames glinting at him in the sun. Her body nearly glowed from the water, humidity and beads of sweat. Every hard thrust had her breasts jolting, the action drawing his attention to the curves of her body and the way his cock disappeared into her. Was swallowed whole. He fucking loved that. He felt every breath she took right through his cock. Every movement of her body, that was how tightly she gripped him.
Lightning streaked through his body, lashing his cock. He’d never been restrained. Not ever. When he took a woman, he took her hard. He satisfied the needs of his body, the violence that was always with him and always would be. He would take her the way he needed, he knew that, but not until she was ready. Right now, with his body a firestorm burning through him, he fought to make it right for her. To make it good for her. She mattered to him, and he was determined to stay in control to give her this.
Zara was the one woman who could bring him to his knees, figuratively and literally. His body trembled, trying to hold back. Looking at her spread out before him, the trust in her eyes, the rising pleasure, feeling those tight muscles begin to clamp down harder, more urgently, sent a firestorm sweeping over his cock and up through his body.
A shiver of awareness crept down his spine. He loved her. He was so in love with this woman. Zara Hightower. It hadn’t been instant, even though they’d been together a few short weeks, but they’d spent just about every minute of every day together. Ordinarily, that would have driven him crazy. Now, he couldn’t imagine being without her and when he was away, he thought about her all time. She would always be his obsession, his one and only love.
Her breath hitched. She was close. “Keep looking at me, baby. When I tell you, let go. Not before. Hold on until I say.”
He wanted to watch her give that to him, see the beauty on her face. He wanted to know she’d hold on, even as inexperienced as she was just, because he asked. He wanted to feel her body take his, sweep him up in the sensual, overwhelming tsunami overtaking her.
Her fists clenched in the ground blankets, fingers dragging the material into her palm. Her head thrashed from side to side and little chanting sobs—his name and “please” escaped—but through it all, she never once took her gaze from his. Fuck. He loved her all the more for that. There was power and a feeling of humbleness. She was his, but it was her choice. Always her choice. This incredible woman had chosen him.
“Now, baby. Let go for me.”
Her breath hissed out of her lungs in a rush along with a small scream that stilled the insects droning around them. Her sheath bit down hard on his cock, the hot, silken muscles milking him, forcing his seed to erupt like a volcano, bursting from him in powerful jets. Lights played behind his eyes and pure, fiery, pleasure danced down his spine, up his legs and through his chest while her body drained him dry. It was an unexpectedly explosive reaction for him when he’d been so careful to be gentle, even tender with her.
He fought to get his breathing back as the fire subsided, the flames receding from his spine, dancing their way back to his roaring cock. He waited until the last possible aftershock of her body, wanting to experience all of it with her. Every second he could get. Every tiny feeling. All the while he watched her face for signs of discomfort.