Chapter 3
Pleasure wove a delicate web over Genevieve’s senses as an odd ache latched onto her insides, then spiraled downward to her sex as he thrust upward. Shock rippled through her at how wonderful the sensation was. One could almost call it blissful.
Startled, she stared down into stormy blue eyes that glittered with an emotion she couldn’t define. A second later, something she thought might have been pain flashed across his handsome face.
Fear rose inside her as she saw the questions flickering in his piercing, perceptive gaze.
Before he could speak, she lowered her head and kissed him.
Strong male fingers cupped her face as she explored the hot taste of him.
Firm and demanding, his mouth silently insisted she respond to the fiery caress.
She obeyed with an intensity she’d never believed herself capable of.
It was as if a stranger had taken control of her mind and body with the sole intent of showing her what euphoria was.
Almost as if resenting her blissful state, the past tried to rear its ugly head. Dark memories tried to rise from their graves, but she struck all of them down with a brutal blow. There was something pure and cleansing about this moment, and she refused to let the past steal that from her.
Of its own accord, something wild and unrestrained unfurled inside her, then rose upward until it became a strange, powerful craving. It was a need for more, but for what she was uncertain. All she understood was that this was what she’d wanted—needed. This physical release of everything painful.
Her gaze searched his face, and she reveled in the passion and hunger holding his facial muscles taut. Raw, naked hunger glittered in his blue gaze, and it stole her breath away. But it was the undefinable emotion that darkened his eyes to a stormy hue that made her heart beat wildly in her chest.
Strong male fingers dug into her buttocks as he encouraged her to ride him even harder.
With each powerful thrust of his unyielding frame against hers, her blood raced through her veins, setting her nerve endings on fire.
A sultry heat suddenly swept through her, and the moment her body clenched hard around him, she threw her head back and released a keening cry of unadulterated rapture.
Seconds later, his shout of satisfaction mixed with hers until their cries of release faded away.
Breathing in small gasps of air, she fell forward and buried her face in the powerful muscles of his neck.
With each passing second, her tremors of satisfaction and ecstasy ebbed away until only his warmth pressed into hers.
A stray lock of hair had come loose during their lovemaking, and his strong hand brushed it off her cheek in a sweet, almost tender caress.
“Genevieve.”
The gentle sound of her name whispering past his lips echoed with a warmth that frightened her, but even more alarming was the unspoken question she heard in his voice.
Immediately, she grew rigid against him.
Dear God, what had she done? Peter and Theo had been closer than most brothers related by blood, and she’d known Theo’s grief was just as debilitating as hers.
Her intense yearning to forget her grief, if only for a moment, had led her down a path she should never have taken.
In one moment of insanity, she’d seen Theo’s passionate kiss as a silent cry for something tangible to cling to.
She’d been convinced that, like her, Theo had needed a physical connection to find a release from all the emotions related to Peter’s death.
Now, the question in his voice made her realize she might have been wrong and that in all likelihood she’d made a terrible miscalculation.
And God help her, the way she’d begged for his touch, enticed him to bed her, and dear Lord, the way she’d not given him a chance to retreat and end the madness just before she’d pulled him down on top of her.
Surely he understood what had just happened had been nothing more than a carnal act.
A simple confirmation that they were both alive, and not just hollow shells filled only with pain and grief.
Genevieve closed her eyes as a small tremor passed through her.
God in heaven, she might not have Rockwood blood running through her veins, but she’d acted with the same impulsive, reckless behavior as the best of them.
Worst of all were the emotions Theo’s caresses and lovemaking had aroused in her.
The memory of his expression the moment she’d experienced that first wondrous stroke of pleasure made her heart slam into her chest. Genevieve hadn’t expected to feel anything except a carnal release of anguish.
She’d never thought she would feel anything else, and certainly not blissful delight or euphoric satisfaction.
Deep inside, a voice murmured a thought she refused to hear, but the moment it broke one of the chains that had held her emotions in check for years, her mouth went dry. The realization terrified her, especially when she knew there could be no future with Theo, or any other man.
Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the beating of Theo’s heart. It was a fierce pounding against his breastbone, and his breathing was still as erratic as hers, declaring he was still experiencing the aftereffects of their lovemaking.
When he said her name again, his arms tightened around her. Instinct told Genevieve that he wanted to discuss what had just happened between them. But talking was the last thing she wanted or intended to do.
Despite his efforts to stop her, Genevieve pushed herself free of his embrace and scrambled off the straw-filled mattress.
Just as she had when they were children, she easily eluded his grasp to stop her.
In seconds, she reached the spot where their clothes lay scattered on the floor.
Evidence of the way they’d disrobed in a heated frenzy.
The memory made her draw in a breath of dismay.
With an unintelligible sound of regret, she reached for her bloomers and pulled them on, then staggered slightly as she slid her stockings over her legs.
Unlike her frantic scrambling to dress, Theo crossed the floor of the small dwelling with a leisurely stride.
The moment he stepped into her field of vision, her unfettered view of his naked form sucked the air out of her lungs in one sharp exhalation.
It happened so fast she felt dizzy. Earlier, there hadn’t been time to study him, but now he held her spellbound.
The man could not have been any more beautiful than if DaVinci had sculpted him out of marble.
Powerful and potent, Theo was the epitome of masculine beauty.
Dear God, she’d never seen a man so mesmerizingly male in her entire life. Riveted, Genevieve stared at his hard, muscular form, her senses reeling from the raw, primal power he exuded. Hands on his hips, his chest muscles rippled as he bent at the waist in an attempt to lock his gaze with hers.
Genevieve averted her gaze, but not before she noted his flat stomach, thick muscular thighs, and the part of him that had been embedded deep inside her moments ago. A sudden regret spiraled through her that they’d not taken their time exploring each other.
Stunned by the thought, she fought hard to dismiss it, but failed.
All Genevieve could think about was how this man had teased her body with his until she was drunk on his caresses.
Fiery and intense, the rapture she’d experienced in his arms had been unexpected and exhilarating.
Most of all, it had been freeing in a way she didn’t quite understand.
For just a few brief moments, his touch had obliterated the past. She didn’t know or understand how, but every caress and stroke of his body against hers had made her forget the painful loss of her innocence for a short time.
Even now, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest as the urge to throw herself into his arms again was difficult to suppress.
Alarmed, a tremor shot through Genevieve while her hands shook, hampering her efforts to dress.
Even worse was the way her body ached to repeat those same blissful moments with him.
Horrified by the strength of her need to be in his arms again, another shudder rippled through Genevieve. What in God’s name was wrong with her?
“Genevieve, we—”
“This never happened.”
The words flew past her lips with an icy harshness that made him stare at her in stunned disbelief.
His reaction aroused an unexpected emotion inside her, and she found herself wishing she’d not spoken with such cruel sharpness.
She shoved her regret aside. What had happened had been a mistake.
They couldn’t change it, but it could be forgotten.
Mocking laughter reverberated in her head as a voice asked her if she really thought such a thing was possible.
Something odd darkened his expression, but it was impossible to identify as anger hardened his handsome features.
The extent of his fury startled her, and she flinched as he caught her by the arms and forced her to face him.
“If you expect me to simply forget—”
“I don’t see why not,” she said coldly in a concerted effort to stop whatever argument he thought to employ. “I already have.”
The razor-edged statement crackled in the air between them, and Theo’s head ricocheted backward as if she’d slapped him.
With a calm deliberation she didn’t feel, Genevieve freed herself from his lax grip and turned away from him with a stoicism she knew appeared cold and callous.
It was the only defense she had at the moment.