Chapter Thirteen
ANDIE OPENED HER MOUTH to respond—to say something, anything—but Paul was already moving, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear, and whatever words she might have formed dissolved into a whimper.
“Three days,” he growled against her skin, his mouth trailing down her throat. “Three days of watching you. Wanting you. Unable to touch you.”
His teeth grazed her collarbone, and she arched off the bed.
“Be warned, koukla mou...since I intend to take my fill of you.”
She couldn’t answer, could only cry out as his mouth descended to her breast, and her mind started to splinter apart at the first hot swipe of his tongue.
He lavished attention on one peak, then the other, sucking and teasing until she was writhing beneath him, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, his hair, anything she could reach.
“P-Paul—”
“Not yet.” The words were a growl against her sensitized flesh. “I’ve waited three days. You can wait a little longer.”
He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips tracing a path of fire across her skin. Her muscles quivered beneath his mouth. Her breathing came in sharp, desperate gasps.
And then he was there.
Between her thighs.
His breath hot against her most intimate flesh.
“I’ve been dreaming about this.” His voice had gone rough, almost reverent. “Every night. Every cold shower. This is what I thought about.”
His tongue parted her folds, and Andie’s world shattered.
She’d thought she knew what this felt like. He’d done this to her before, on the plane, and she’d thought nothing could ever compare to that overwhelming rush of sensation.
She was wrong.
This was different.
This was three days of wanting distilled into a single, devastating act.
Paul devoured her like a man starving, his tongue stroking and circling and finding every spot that made her cry out. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open, holding her still, refusing to let her squirm away from the onslaught of pleasure.
“Please—” The word tore from her throat. “Paul, please—”
He didn’t answer.
Just sealed his lips around that hidden bundle of nerves and sucked.
Andie shattered.
The orgasm crashed through her like a wave, her back arching off the bed, her hands fisting in his hair, a scream ripping from her throat that she couldn’t have contained if she’d tried.
It went on and on, pulse after pulse of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, and through it all, Paul didn’t stop.
Didn’t ease up.
Just drew out every last tremor until she was boneless and gasping, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
Only then did he lift his head.
Only then did he prowl back up her body, his eyes dark and hungry and fixed on her face with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“I need to be inside you.”
His words were low and possessive, and all she could do was nod because that was what she wanted, too.
Paul positioned himself at her entrance, and her whole body seemed to burn as she felt the blunt pressure of him against her slick flesh. He was big—she’d known that, had felt it in her mouth just minutes ago—but knowing and feeling were two different things entirely.
“This might hurt.”
All she could do was nod again, and then...
Aaaah.
A shuddering gasp spilled past her lips the moment he pressed forward. It was the slightest of movements, but it was more than enough to make her feel she was being so deliciously stretched to make room for the other half of her soul.
Her teeth sunk into her lip as she felt him press deeper, inch by possessive inch, his movement tortuously slow, his big, powerful body rigid. She tried her best to prepare for that moment, but it still took her by surprise—
“Paul.”
It happened in an excruciating blink, but oh, what an earth-shattering blink it was, the pain sharp but unforgettable, momentary but meaningful.
One moment, it was just her. Another, and they were finally together, their bodies intimately joined the way they had been designed to be since the beginning of time.
His gaze locked with his, and her breath caught.
Mine.
His gray eyes didn’t mince words, and so neither did she.
Yours.
And then he was moving again, this time withdrawing in a long, devastating slide that made her senses reel. She had thought...she had read...oh, oh, oh!
It was always about how one would feel when the man you loved would enter you, but why oh why did no one talk about how it would feel when he seduced you by pulling out ever-so-slowly?
It was like agony turning into pleasure because of how long it was taking, and...and how, well, long he was, too, and then—
Aaaaaah!
He suddenly surged back inside of her, his lips forming another smile that was more wolf than man as her shocked gaze flew up to his.
“P-Paul!” Her tone was dazed.
“Andromeda.” His was mocking.
Oh, if only she could say something—anything—
But no.
Not with the way he was now moving steadily, his pace increasing with every thrust, his hips snapping against hers as he drove deeper and harder, and all she could do was wrap her legs around his waist as she held on to his shoulders.
A moan spiraled out of her throat when he shifted his body without warning, and he was suddenly hitting a tiny secret spot between her legs with every thrust, and it was..oh, it was...oh, please, please, please—
“Paul.”
She wished she could tell him just how good he was making her feel, but even though all she could do was moan—
“Reach for it, koukla mou.”
It seemed that he understood her all the same, with what he was asking her to do, and as he plunged into her one last time—
Finally, oh, finally!
Paul could not remember seeing anything more beautiful than the sight of his wife coming apart beneath him, and he felt his own chest cracking open as her gaze clung to his, her nails digging into the panes of his back while his heart started to pound harder and harder and harder—
I...
His body jerked as her inner muscles tightened around him, and as his wife arched up against him—
I love her.
The realization hit him like a freight train, like a heart attack, like every cliché he’d ever mocked suddenly made terrifyingly real.
Andromeda.
My wife.
This impossible, unexpected, utterly devastating woman.
I...love...you.
His release crashed through him with a force that nearly brought him to his knees—would have, if he weren’t already buried inside her, if her body weren’t pulsing around him, if she weren’t clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a world gone liquid.
Andromeda.
He spilled himself inside her, pulse after pulse, and with each one, the truth branded itself deeper into his bones.
My love.