“I’m yours,” she answered, opening her legs to him.
“Don’t look away,” he said, pulling back so that he could line up his throbbing cock at the opening of her sex.
“I won’t,” she whispered, her beautiful brown eyes focused clearly on his.
Slowly—so very, very slowly—he slid into her body while watching her eyes flinch and flutter closed before opening again. The walls of her sex pulsed around him, wet and hot, like a hug, and he felt himself swell almost impossibly within her.
“Okay?”
“So okay,” she murmured, her voice dreamy and low.
He slid farther into her, desperately trying not to move too fast or hurt her smaller body with the intrusion of his far larger one, however welcome.
“Meggie, I don’t want to . . .”
“I want all of you, Cameron.”
And that’s all it took. He dropped his elbows by her head and sank the rest of the way into her body with a groan of epic and unrivaled fulfillment.
She bowed her back beneath him, straining her neck and pressing her head back into her pillow with a loud moan, “Mmmmnnn.”
“Look at me, baby.”
She turned her face to the side, her eyes still closed, and Cameron withdrew just a little, worried it was too much for her, but her hands flew to his ass, pulling him forward, and he thrust back into her until his balls pressed flush against her skin, and she moaned beneath him again, biting her bottom lip as her fingernails bit into his back.
“Again,” she sighed, her beautiful lips tilting up in a dreamy smile.
He wasn’t hurting her.
Fuck, her body was as tight as a glove around him, and she was smiling.
Rotating his hips, he withdrew from her, then plunged slowly back inside, leaning down to lick her lips open. When she parted them for him, he kissed her, thrusting into her sweet, hot heaven with increasing speed and force.
She raised her knees, locking her ankles behind his back, and Cameron groaned as he slid deeper still, the sensation robbing him of rhythm and pace. She moaned beneath him, licking his lips, sucking on his tongue, writhing as her fingernails drew blood and her neck strained so far back on the pillow that, when he leaned back to look down at her, he could see the fluttering pulse.
“Cam, I can’t . . .I can’t . . .”
Pulling all the way out of her, he teased the opening of her sex until she opened her eyes.
“I love you,” she said. “Come with me.”
It was the selflessness of her request that pushed Cameron over the edge: for him to find his pleasure with her because she loved him. And Cameron let go, thrusting into her body over and over again until she screamed his name in joyful release and he groaned that he was hers until the end of time.
Chapter 12
As she often did, Margaret dreamed of green-eyed children with thick black hair zigzagging through rows of grapes while their father, with his deep, thundering laugh, chased after them. Their giggles were high and happy as they squealed, “Mommy!” barreling into her arms as their father—her beloved Cameron—swooped them all up into his strong arms, his smile promising an exquisite forever.
And then the children faded away, running merrily back into the vines as Cameron’s arms remained around her, his lips hot at the base of her throat, then sucking at her breasts, licking the sensitive points until she—
Opening her eyes, she found Cameron’s head bobbing gently beneath her chin, her breast in his mouth, his fingers gently teasing and pinching her other nipple. Her body was wet and ready for him. Tired, yes, but prepared and needy. She threaded her hands through his hair, groaning with pleasure as he slid into her waiting body without preamble or permission, knowing he was welcome, believing as strongly as she that it was where he belonged.
Still half asleep, she closed her eyes as he slowly pumped into her, touching her womb gently with the tip of his sex, then pulling away. And suddenly she thought of those green-eyed children again, laughing with glee, and she gasped, pushing at his shoulders.
“Cameron! Cameron, stop! Wait!”
He went rigid above her, looking down at her with horrified eyes. “Am I hurting you?’
She shook her head. “No. No, but I . . . Oh God.”
He slid out of her, hovering over her body, worry overtaking his face. “What, baby? Tell me. Now.”
“Cameron,” she started, “I . . . I’m not . . .”
“You’re not in love with me.”
“Of course I’m in love with you, you idiot! I’m not on birth control!”
He was already still, but his body went rigidly still, terrified still. His eyes searched her face desperately.
“What?”