“Jerred,” she muttered. “I swear I’m going to die if you don’t f**k me right now.”
His laughter washed over her, the warmth of his breath wreaking havoc with her skin.
“Giselle, I love how you talk,” he said. “I never have to play games with you, I always know what you’re thinking.”
With that, he flattened his hand across her pubic bone and thrust into her abruptly. He slid all the way home, filling her so suddenly that she thought she might explode. At the same time, his finger pressed against her clit. Hard. It was enough. She shot over the edge with a shudder, internal muscles squeezing him so tightly it must have been painful. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She felt him continuing to thrusting into her; felt the pressure against her clit, his lips on her neck. All of it seemed to happen at a distance, though. For one shining moment she simply hovered in space, marveling at the gift she’d been given.
In that instant, she knew she loved Jerred. Loved him with her whole heart, her entire being. She fell back toward reality. He was moving in her quickly now, and his breathing had become harsh. As if he could read her mind, he squeezed her tight with his entire body, as if to reassure her that he was still there, still thinking of her.
Her clit, still incredibly swollen from the first orgasm, responded to his touch again. He rubbed it back and forth, instinctively finding the right motion to drive her wild. Pleasure sang through her veins and she whimpered. His arms grew tighter, and she felt him growing even harder within her body. He was close; she knew it. Still, he held himself off and continued to move with her. He was waiting for her to come again, she realized.
He squeezed her once more, this time shifting so his hips were tilted even further into her, allowing him to hit a new spot within her body. The head of his c**k rubbed over it once, twice. The third time she convulsed in his arms, the orgasm so sudden and hard that it surprised her. Every muscle in her body clenched, including those within. He gasped something in her ear, and then he exploded into her body.
Hot jets of his seed filled her. His hips pumped, spurting his fluid deep within, and then he was finished, and they grew still. After a long silence, he nuzzled the back of her neck once more, then dropped little kisses along it until his lips reached her ear.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
* * * * *
Jerred smiled as he expertly flipped the rounded circles of batter sizzling in the pan. The small cakes, fried and drizzled with sweet, sugary syrup, had always been one of his favorite breakfast foods. A memory of his childhood home sprang to mind. They had had a cook, of course. His parents had been too busy to prepare meals, and they had never quite understood why he liked to spend so much of his time in the kitchen. Still, they had never discouraged him from cooking.
He remembered the first time he’d fixed breakfast all by him himself. Or rather, all by himself with the supervision of the cook and the assistance of two smiling kitchen maids. They’d carefully followed his directions, “helping” him pour out the batter, reminding him when to pull each dish out of the oven. Under their direction, he’d carefully laid out each dish, added sprigs of sweet, fresh herbs, and popped them into the stasis boxes with the kind of flourish only a six-year-old boy could pull off. When he’d gone into the breakfast room and seen all the food he’d prepared laid out for the family, he had stood tall. His parents had been so proud of him, their oldest son. His father had gone so far as to remind him that all they had would be his some day, provided he married.
His hand stilled, and the memory turned sour. He could only marry if he had a life mate.
He allowed himself to think of Giselle for a moment, toying with the thought of her as his life mate. He could take her back to Saurellia, introduce her to his family.
They could have children together.
Of course, such a thing was unthinkable. Sure, there had been one or two lucky men who had found their life mates outside of Saurellia, but for every one of them there were millions who hadn’t. And as much as he liked Giselle, he couldn’t imagine that she might be his life mate. She didn’t fit the profile.
For one thing, she was too independent. Life mates had to make decisions together, live together, and build a future together. She hardly seemed interested in that. He thought about the way her eyes lit up when she talked about rebuilding her business. She wanted to have a bar—she didn’t want to help him manage his family estate. He pictured her and his mother together and winced.
They were from two different worlds. Both wonderful in their own way, but what could they possibly have in common? They’re both kind, decent women who seem to care for you, an insidious voice whispered from within. They would find common ground, given a chance.
He pushed the thought back. He had no right to keep Giselle with him, despite the fact that every instinct in his body cried out for him to take her back to Saurellia. Forcing her to go with him had been wrong—he could see that now. In his blind determination to have her, he had almost killed her. He should be ashamed of himself.
Mulling these dark thoughts, he put all the food together on a small tray and carried it into his cabin. She still slept, curled up in a little ball in one corner of his bed. He sat down beside her. Her long, wavy red hair snaked across the pillows like a living thing. He reached out, curling a bit of it around one finger.
He’d never seen a woman on Saurellia with hair like this. She’d cause riots among the young men when she went out on the street, he thought, a smile stealing across his face. He’d have to watch her carefully, or some young buck might try to steal her away.
Of course, if she were his life mate she’d fight her way free and come back to him. He remembered the cool gleam in her eye as she’d threatened to kill Josiah. He might try to rescue her, but he’d have to move quickly. She was excellent at rescuing herself. He rubbed one finger across her cheek and she stirred. She looked up at him and gave a sleepy smile.
“What are thinking about?” she asked softly. “You seem too serious.”
“I was thinking about Saurellia,” he said slowly.
“Oh?”
“I can’t really explain it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I brought you breakfast. Made it myself, straight from my mother’s recipe. Or rather, my mother’s cook’s recipe,” he added wryly.
She sat up, and his eye caught on the perky mounds of her br**sts. The ni**les were softened, reddish circles in the center of each generous swelling. Here and there those adorable little freckles dotted her.