Chapter 13
The naked plea in his deep voice had her reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. He had always struck her as being strong and indomitable, but right now, he was afraid and she could relate to that.
"So am I," she admitted softly. "You said I was being selfish.
" She shook her head when he opened his mouth to refute the statement he had made in anger.
"You might be right. I work with children of a particular age.
I watch them grow, learn, evolve, and interact.
I'm their caregiver from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon.
Sometimes I stay back to help with projects or sit with them until their nannies come to get them. " Her gaze turned luminous.
"And I yearn. Each time I hold a child in my arms, wipe away tears, listen to some story about problems at home, I yearn to hold my own child in my arms. In the past it was always obscure, something elusive, something I'm looking forward to.
When I met you and I fell in love, the picture became clear. " Her expression softened.
"I started seeing a son or a daughter with your looks, the thick hair, the beautiful sapphire blue eyes.
Yes, naturally, because of my own ethnicity, that's not rational.
But I want a child with your looks and your strength.
I want to look at our child and be reminded that somehow I made you love me.
" A tear trickled down her cheek and moved him beyond measure.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Dean.
I don't have a death wish, but I have hope and faith in what I believe in. I just want you to understand."
He stared at her in silence for what seemed like an eternity.
He had treated her badly over the last few days, shouting at her because of his fear, accusing her of engineering the entire thing, thinking only of himself, settling into a funk because he was thinking that she had tricked him.
He had talked about termination of the pregnancy and never once asked how she was doing.
And she still stood with him. A lump formed inside his throat and had him swallowing valiantly.
Scooping her into his arms, he stood with the backdrop of the trees shrouded in darkness, the rich scent of flowers blooming, and just simply held her, his face buried in the fragrant scent of her hair as he breathed her in.
Little by little, he felt himself steadying. The fear and anger were being replaced by a desire so strong, so intense, it was making him tremble.
Lifting his head, he searched her face and saw the answer there as well.
"We shouldn't," he began. "We can't."
Her hands lifted to wrap themselves around his neck. "We have to." She smiled at him. "We need this."
"I'm hungry for you," he admitted baldly. "It's been a few days, and going that long without you means I'm going to be rough."
She responded by pulling his head down to hers.
The scent of her breath made him dizzy. The brush of her lips broke his restraint and had him hardening.
By the time her tongue entered his mouth, his control disintegrated.
He kissed her with fierce ardor, his tongue matching hers for speed and passion.
The kiss was drunken and hungry. He had deliberately stayed away from her over the last few days and suffered as a result. Now he was holding her in his arms.
Without breaking the ardent kiss, he strode into the bedroom and laid her back on the pillows. His eyes were turbulent as he stared at her.
"Are you sure?"
She simply untied the robe and shrugged it off.
He was captivated at the sight of her lush beauty.
Were her breasts slightly rounder, he wondered dazedly.
Or was it his fevered mind playing tricks on him?
With undignified haste, he got rid of his clothing and joined her.
He was going to try and slow things down, even though his body was urging him to do the opposite.
Lifting a hand, he tucked a fat coil of hair behind her ear.
"You will always be the most beautiful woman I've ever met." His voice was thick with need.
"I hope you'll believe that when I'm swollen everywhere."
"I'll always believe that because it's true." He trailed a finger over her soft cheek. Bending his head, he followed where his finger had left off, kissing her lobe and then her cheek before touching his lips to hers.
"You taste like honey."
"It's the tea I was drinking." She turned in his arms, breasts touching his chest and sending shockwaves through his body. If he was not careful, this would be all over soon enough.
"It's you." He brushed kisses over her lips, light butterfly touches, back and forth until she was trembling against him.
"I noticed that from the initial stage. The first time I kissed you, I also knew you were addictive.
Like a narcotic racing through my bloodstream.
I cannot do without you. And the more I get, the more I want.
" He plunged his tongue into her mouth, overwhelmed by the sweetness he discovered there.
Even when she was determined to keep him at bay before, she had always been so receptive, so passionate and giving.
He had called her selfish, but he was so wrong about that. She was selfless, her passion hardly contrived. His wife was transparent, the first woman he had discovered without a coy bone in her body.
He had been accustomed to shallow emotions, greed and avarice in the women he knew, the ones from his circle. The ones who thought nothing of toying with a man's feelings to get what they wanted at the moment.
He had met someone who was fresh and unspoiled, and he had become addicted to those qualities. It made her as sexy as hell.
He had been her first and that alone was enough to have him flying.
His lips drifted down to her throat, the hollow of her throat and then her breasts.
His touch had her arching towards him, fingers digging into his shoulders and the quivering muscles of his arms. He brushed his lips over the rigid flesh before twirling his tongue around it.
Her catchy breath had him vibrating. When he seized the nipple and started suckling, her passion erupted.
Her moans became cries as he fed hungrily. His control was but a tattered thread as the taste and texture of her surrounded him, seeped inside him like a drug.
He had intended to lavish her with love, to make up for his lack over the past few days, but that was not going to happen. With a tortured groan, he released the nipple and rolled on top of her. His eyes were darkened, his face taut with passion.
"I don't want to hurt you," he told her thickly.
"You won't," she promised. "Please. I need you inside me."
Her voice, the words she spoke, broke his restraint and had him driving into her. He stayed that way for a few seconds, absorbing the feel of her tightness, the moistness of her wrapped around him, and wondered how on earth he had managed to be on the same bed and not touched her.
Bending his head, he placed his forehead on hers and simply breathed her in.
"Catherine." Her name was like a benediction on his lips, a prayer and a balm to his tattered senses. "Sweetheart." He groaned when she started to move. "I just needed a minute."
"I cannot wait." Lifting her hips, she took the decision away from him.
He had no choice but to follow suit. And when he did, the tentative hold he had on his control was torn away from him.
He took her lips, tongue plunging into her mouth as he kissed her deeply, darkly, with fervent passion that swamped everything else.
She felt the orgasm building inside her, the heat becoming so intense it was like a fire blazing and consuming her.
Her body arched as it exploded and spilled over.
She clung to him, her cries swallowed deep inside his throat.
He was right behind her. He tried to hold back, but it was no use.
His starved body imploded as he helplessly poured himself into her.
His heart was hammering, his body coated with moisture as the orgasm seemed to go on forever.
It took him several minutes to realize that he might be crushing her with his weight, and even that awareness did not drive him to move. It took several more minutes for him to slide off her and even then, he was loath to relinquish physical contact.
He stared up at the ceiling, a tiny frown marring his brow, his hands gliding languidly up and down her back.
"I love you." The words had a life of their own and just came out as if he had no say in the matter. The emotions he had been so confused about, the crippling scare of just the thought of saying it to a woman, had vanished.
When she lifted her head, he met her gaze, a look of absolute wonder on his face.
"I love you."
Joy, unspeakable and overwhelming, burst inside her chest and had a smile curving her lips.
"I know, darling." She placed a hand on his jaw, fingers gentle.
"How did you know?"
"You showed me every single time you look at me or touch me. I was just waiting for you to say the words."
He shook his head. "I never thought I could." Turning his face, he kissed her palm. The emotions thickened his voice.
"The last time I said those words was to my mother, so many times.
It never occurred to me to realize that she never responded.
She would just rub my head and tell me to run along with my nanny.
" His eyes darkened. "I adored her. She was like an angel, with all that golden hair and amazing blue eyes, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
I was proud she was my mother." He smiled bitterly.
"I wanted to marry her." He kissed her palm again, sending shivers along her spine.