A Wife for a Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [37]
He whispered erotic things in her ear before reaching down and cupping her face in his hands to stare down at her while his body continued to drive heatedly into hers. Their gazes locked and something happened between them at that moment that nearly threw him off balance. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice was taunting that this had nothing to do with possessing but everything to do with claiming.
Denial froze hard in his throat and he wanted to scream that it wasn’t possible. He claimed no woman. Instead, he grunted savagely as his body exploded, and then he heard her scream as she cried out in ecstasy. He kept thrusting into her, pushing them further and further into sweet oblivion and surging them beyond the stars.
Eight
Lucia moved her head slowly, opened her eyes and then came fully awake when a flash of sunlight through her bedroom window hit her right in the face. It was then that she felt the male body pressed tightly against her back and the heated feel of Derringer’s breathing on her neck.
She then remembered.
They had made love on the sofa before moving into her bedroom where they had made love again before drifting off to sleep. Sometime during the wee hours of early morning they had made love again. The entire thing seemed unreal, but Derringer’s presence in her bed assured her that it had been real.
Her body felt sore, tender in a number of places, but mostly between her legs, and she wouldn’t be surprised if her lips were swollen from all the kissing they had done. Her cheeks flooded with heat thinking about a number of other things they’d gotten into as well. She had proven to him in a very sexual way that she definitely knew how to ride a stallion. He had taunted her to prove it and she’d done so.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she thought how she would handle things from here on out. She knew last night meant more to her than it had to him, and she could handle that. But what she wouldn’t be able to handle was letting things go beyond what they’d shared these past few hours. She loved him and for him to ever make love to her again would turn things sexual, into a casual relationship that would tarnish her memories rather than enhance them. She was smart enough to know when to let go and move on. Now was the time.
Tears flooded her eyes. Derringer would always have her heart, but the reality was that she would never have his. And being the type of person that she was, she could never allow herself to become just one in a long line of women vying for his attention. She preferred letting things go back to the way they were between them before they’d become intimate.
The way she saw things, if she never had him then there was no way she could lose him. She couldn’t risk a broken heart because of Derringer and she knew her place in his life. She didn’t have one. If she began thinking of developing something serious with him knowing the kind of man he was, she was setting herself up for pain from which she might never be able to heal.
She would continue to love him like this—secretly. She had gotten used to doing things that way and, no matter what, she couldn’t let their sexual encounters—no matter how intense they’d been—fill her head and mind with false illusions.
She swallowed when she felt Derringer’s penis swell against her backside and tried to convince herself it wouldn’t be a good idea to make love to him one last time. But she knew the moment he pulled her closer to his hard, masculine body that she would. This would be saying goodbye to the intimacy between them. She knew it even if he didn’t.
“You’re awake?” He turned her in his arms to face him.
Desire rippled through her the moment she looked into his face. Propped with his head on her pillow, his eyes had the same desire-glazed look they’d had that first night they’d made love. It was a sexy, drowsy look, complete with a darkened shadow on his chin. No man had a right to look this good in the morning. He looked so untamed, wild and raw. His rumpled