Chapter 11

Andrew breathed on her shivering body, and his tongue moved over her again in another long stroke, curled and caressed, dipped deep, and then she heard herself crying his name as he suckled hard, his tongue stabbing deep, rasping and rubbing over her most sensitive spot. She couldn't stay still, thrashing under him, her head falling back and forth, her lungs burning for air, while her body tightened and tightened, straining and building until she thought she'd explode.

"Andrew!" She caught his dark hair in her fist and yanked. "You're killing me."

"It's all good, baby," he encouraged. "I want you ready for me." His fingers pushed deep, found gold, and she bucked, her back arching, as wave after wave of orgasms rocked her from head to toe.

Andrew shifted instantly, moving between her legs and thrusting deep into her silken sheath. Her muscles gripped him, and he fought his entry in spite of her slickness but gave way as he powered deeper, pushing through the tight, hot folds. There was unexpected resistance, and then he sank into her, holding still for a moment, savouring the absolute pleasure of being inside Diana.

He leaned his head towards hers, his arms bracing him above her, his mouth seeking the sweet, addicting taste of hers. His hips began to pick up a hard, quick tempo as he lifted his head to watch the pleasure bursting through her. Passion raced through his body with the force and heat of a firestorm. No fire he'd ever fought had seemed so hot. Flames licked over his skin and burned through his gut and in his groin as the strokes grew harder, deeper, and more forceful. All the while, he watched her face, devouring the pleasure washing over her.

Her nails bit into his shoulder, her fingers dug into his back, and once she lifted her head to press a string of kisses along his chest. Each touch drove him closer to insanity. Her fingers brushed his skin, as did the silk of her hair. Her gaze locked with his, glazed, dark with sensual need, alight with something that sent the fire crowning, flashing, and searing his soul. He didn't dare believe she could love him, but she felt emotion, not just lust, and it was enough for him.

"You're so tight, Diana, and so damn hot, I think I'm going to come out of this scorched for life."

Nothing in his life, not even his most erotic fantasies, had prepared him for sharing Diana's body. She gasped his name again, the small, helpless plea for release tearing his last thread of control so that he caught her hips in his arms, holding her still while he plunged deep, over and over, the passion washing through him, sizzling and crackling and roaring like thunder in his ears. He felt her spasm around him, gripping tightly, her soft cries mingling with his strangled ones. The sensations started somewhere in his toes and slammed through his body with such force that he thought he might not survive the pleasure.

Diana dug her nails into his back, holding on to the only anchor she had as her body fragmented and the earth spun away. She lay underneath him, feeling as if her heart might explode out of her body, uncaring that it was pounding way too fast and that her lungs burned for air. Ripple after ripple shook her, and she clutched at Andrew, shocked that she could feel so much so fast and that her untutored body could respond with such powerful orgasms.

She ran her fingers through his hair, small little caresses meant to convey the enormity of what she was feeling.

Andrew lifted his head, easing his weight off of her. "You might have mentioned you wanted me to go slow, Diana. By the time I realised, it was too late."

She smiled at him. "I think we can agree that things went rather well for our first time. Well, I may have a rug burn."

He brushed the hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin. "You look very satisfied. Sleepy, but satisfied. I love that I put that look on your face."

"We're going to have a bit of a mess on the rug."

"I'll get another one," he said, rolling over and taking her with him so she was lying on top of him, her head on his shoulder. "I don't want to squish you."

Diana closed her eyes, loving the feel of his arms around her and of his body beneath hers, legs and arms tangled together. She let herself look around the room, something she hadn't even done up until now. It was enormous. The floor was made of light wood to capture the sunlight that would pour through the wall of glass facing the sea. The view was spectacular. Outside, the waves rushed towardss the rocky beach beneath the bluff, soothing them both until she began to drift towards sleep.

Andrew held her close. She seemed so fragile and delicate in his arms. He had a much larger frame, and he was definitely endowed. He'd been afraid of hurting her, yet she'd been eager for him, not in the least fearful. He had never imagined Diana draped naked over him, her mouth pressed to his chest, and her body moving with reckless abandon under his. He let her sleep for half an hour before he moved out from under her to find a towel and clean them both up. He already wanted her again. Maybe he was destined to spend the rest of his life in a semi-hard state.

Diana woke to his kisses. Soft. Gentle. Tender. She kissed him back and smiled, wrapping her arm around his neck. "This is a wonderful way to wake up."

"I was missing you."

She laughed, her eyes sparkling at him. "What's it been, an entire hour?"

It gave him secret pleasure that he knew she would laugh at his remark. "I was going cross-eyed staring at you."

She leaned into him again and brushed a kiss across his mouth before wiggling free. "Bathroom."

He pointed. Diana was shocked that she didn't feel in the least bit embarrassed to walk around in front of him totally naked—in fact, she enjoyed feeling his gaze on her. When she returned, she deliberately walked past him to the window, where the moonlight could shine down on her as she looked out to sea.

His gaze grew hot. Predatory. "You're killing me, babe. I can't look at you without getting hard."

Diana laughed softly, feeling sexy for the first time in her life. It was a feeling she could get used to. "Really?" Deliberately, she allowed her gaze to drift over his body, teasing and provoking him. Flirting. She'd never flirted. She didn't even know how.

He came across the floor like a tiger, pouncing on her and spinning her around until she was pressed up against the glass. Both of his hands covered her breasts, his erection already thick and hard, pressed against her buttocks. "Really," he answered, bending his head to her shoulders and giving her teasing little bites that sent shivers down her back. He applied pressure, slowly bending her forward to drop kisses and bites down her spinal column. He paused to swirl his tongue over the burns on her back.

She pressed the palm of her hand up against the glass to steady herself, turning to look over her shoulder at Ty. His face was etched with passion and lust; his eyes were so dark with desire that her breath left her lungs in a rush, and her body dampened and contracted in anticipation. "You can't possibly want me again."

"You're so beautiful, Diana," he answered. He loved her naked, surrounded by the plush white rug and the open glass gleaming behind her. He hadn't yet turned on the electricity in the house, but lights weren't needed. The moon spilled enough light over her body to see her curves, and the clouds threw intriguing shadows over her soft, inviting skin. Her hair was a cascade of midnight black silk, falling over her shoulder and swinging free. He stroked the curve of her bottom and the inside of her thighs and moved his hand to find her slick with response. "That's what I'm looking for, baby," he approved, his voice going hoarse.

He loved the marks of possession he could see on her skin. His marks. His woman. The way she responded to him, the way she looked at him, her breathless little cries when he stroked her with his fingers—all of it was amazing to him—a new wondrous world he wanted to dwell in for the rest of his life.

She groaned aloud, her hips pushing back against him. He pushed two fingers into her, stroked, and caressed until she was riding his hand with a small, mindless sob. Her sheath was hot and silky, her muscles clamping tightly around him so that his own body hardened all the more. Blood rushed and pounded, and he lifted his hand to slowly lick her taste from his fingers.

Diana couldn't look away from him, loving the way he made her feel so sexy and so completely his. Every touch and every look were so intense. Andrew was a single-minded man. When he researched, he gave it his all. She should have known he would be a thorough, dominant lover in the same way he approached everything else in his life. He wanted her to feel pleasure, not just sheer ecstasy, and he set about it with the same purpose for which he did all things.

She watched his face as he caught her hips and pushed the broad head of his shaft against her bare entrance. He felt like a brand burning through her skin, pushing through tight muscles with exquisite care, invading her body inch by inch. She wanted to scream with pleasure, her body shaking under his caressing hands. His fingers tugged at her nipples, every stroke of his strong fingers sending electric shocks straight to her hot, tight sheath.

Diana gasped, pushing back with every powerful stroke. He rode her hard and fast, and then suddenly, when she was certain she would burst into flames, he slowed to long, lingering strokes that nearly sent her over the edge, only to build up the speed and fierceness of his possession a second time. Every muscle and every cell seemed to coil in readiness, needing and begging for release, but he kept her on the edge until she was certain she couldn't take the intense pleasure another moment.

Something dark moved in her mind, past the bright colours and the erotic bliss rushing through her. A tendril of insubstantial smoke was no more, but goose bumps formed on her skin. She opened her eyes and looked out the window into the cloak of darkness shrouding the house. Andrew's fingers dug into her hips, dragging her into him, sending the heat spiralling through her body until the breath slammed out of her lungs and she couldn't form a coherent thought.

But there it was again. Something was moving in her mind past all the pleasure—a twisted shadow that grew larger and larger. She thought to pause, to catch her breath, to take a moment to clear her mind, but it was too late. Her body was betraying her, her orgasm ripping through her with such force that she nearly fell, forced to clutch the glass to save herself from falling. Behind her, Andrew's fingers dug deep into her flesh, holding her to him while he emptied himself into her, his guttural cry ringing through the room. Everything around her spun out of control as her body fragmented. For one moment, Diana felt as if she could touch the sky.

She gasped for breath as he helped her stand and took her into his arms, bending her back over his arm so his mouth could find her sensitive breast. Her eyes closed, and she gave herself up to the soaring pleasure. The shadow moved again, blocking the sky and slamming her back to earth so hard that her eyes snapped open, and she looked around her wildly.

Diana stepped away from Andrew quickly, feeling waves of animosity, ugly hatred, and a dark, malevolent presence watching. Watching them through the glass. Whatever, whoever, was outside had seen Andrew taking her with such ferocity and hunger, had intruded on what should have been one of the most wonderful moments of her life. The thought sickened her. A beautiful, private time was shattered by something so ugly and so deviant that she backed away from the glass, her hand going protectively to her throat.

"Someone's out there, Andrew. He can see us." She reached out to him with shaking hands, still backing up to the wall, trying to draw him with her.

He turned towards the window, looking so fierce that Diana caught his arm to hold him back. "I feel his hatred."

"Who is it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I can't tell other than that he's male and he wants me—us—dead."

He hissed, gathered up her clothes, and handed them to her. They were far enough back into the room that he doubted anyone could see them. "Get dressed."

"He saw us."

"Maybe not. He couldn't have been there the entire time, or you would have felt uneasy." Andrew yanked on his jeans. "Wouldn't you?"

"I don't know." She choked back a small sob. Her body still burned from Andrew's possession of her. She felt his brand in places she hadn't known existed—delicious,  sore places that still throbbed and pulsed with too much pleasure—yet someone might have been a witness to those beautiful, perfect, private moments. The idea sickened her so much that her stomach churned, and she pressed a hand to her mouth.

He caught her chin with hard fingers, forcing her to meet the turbulent fury in his eyes. "What we have together, no one can take away from us, Diana. Do you understand me?”

An hour passed, and Diana awakened; she was breathing hard and looking at the ceiling. "A dream... that was just a dream?" She shook her head and decided to go out of her bedroom; after all, she wasn't a prisoner here. She was wearing skinny jeans, a white shirt, and old navy flat shoes from the closet that surprisingly fitted her perfectly.

Thirty minutes later, opening her room door, she was surprised by the grandest of the living room. A huge crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling brightens the place, and below, an Austrian shade made from a very silky sheer fabric that was “drapey and droopy” was used for this living room, which has made a great contribution to its grandeur. The black and gold accents and furniture pieces were bold additions to this mansion. The colour palette of the living room was so relaxing! It has a high ceiling, clerestory windows, and French windows that surround it, creating a tone of openness. Walking slowly, the carpeted stairs felt like she was a princess.

"Hell, he wasn't lying when he said he was a rich man." She murmured and surveyed the place. Wow! This is impressive; he knew how to impress, just like he did in her dream. Damn again! Those dreams that made her... Stop, Diana! You are making this too difficult.