A Game Of Vows Part 11

He rose from the bed and walked out of the room. She scooted to the center of the mattress, reclining against the pillows. Some of the arousal fog cleared without him there, touching her and kissing her.

It was too late to turn back now. If she did, it would be because of fear, and she wasn't going to let fear have a foothold anymore.

But she was taking the control back. She wasn't letting him turn her into a mindless pleasure zombie. That was her job.

He returned a few moments later, a box in hand. "It was in the bathroom. What conscientious staff I have."

"You didn't know if they were in there?"

"I have not needed them." He set the box down on the nightstand and tore it open, taking out a condom packet. And then she forgot to ask him why he hadn't needed them.

He handed the condom to her and she got up onto her knees, scooting to the edge of the bed. She swallowed hard and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his swim trunks, the damp fabric clinging to his body and she dragged it downward.

When she'd gotten the shorts off, she took him into her hand, reveling in the hot, silky skin, the hardness of him. She squeezed him lightly and he groaned, the sound deep and satisfying.

"You are certainly no ordinary man," she said. He let his head fall back, a raw groan coming from deep inside of him.

"That's right, Eduardo," she whispered. "Let me." A straight shot of power coursed through her, making her feel fearless.

She lowered her head and flicked the tip of her tongue over his shaft, her stomach tightening with desire as his hand came up to her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. She explored him with her tongue and he tightened his hold on her, halting her movements.

"I can't," he rasped. "I'm too close."

She lifted her head, satisfied that she was in his power. That she was going to do this her way.

She tore open the packet and rolled the condom onto him, then straightened and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, drawing him down onto her.

"Not yet," he said, lowering his head again, kissing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her ribs, her stomach. Her breath caught when he lingered at the tender skin beneath her belly b.u.t.ton. Then he parted her thighs gently, his tongue hot and unexpected against her core.

She arched off the bed, scrambling for something to hold on to, finding his shoulders and clinging tight. "Eduardo ..."

His breath was hot on her sensitive skin, his lips hovering just above her. "Now tell me you're sorry, Hannah." Another light touch of his tongue sent a flash of brief pleasure through her.

She put one hand over her face, her cheeks burning, her body begging for release.

"Tell me, Hannah." He kissed her inner thigh and her body shook.

"No."

The tip of his tongue blazed a trail from where he'd kissed her, straight to her c.l.i.toris. Just a tease. Nothing more. "Do you want to come or not?"

"You ... b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she panted.

He chuckled. "That doesn't sound like an apology."

"It wasn't."

He moved his hand between her thighs, his thumb sliding over her slick flesh. She gripped both his shoulders, hard, her teeth locked together. Her hips moved in rhythm with his touch. His fleeting, too-light touch.

"Touch me, dammit," she said.

"Not until you tell me you're sorry."

Her muscles were shaking, her body begging her tongue to simply say the words. She needed release. She needed him. To h.e.l.l with control. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a wicked grin, then lowered his head, his tongue working magic on her as he slid one finger inside her tight body.

"Oh, yes," she breathed. It had been worth it. No amount of pride was valuable enough to hold on to, and miss this.

He lavished attention on her, fully, completely, with his mouth and hands. Something started tightening inside of her. Tension she was afraid might break her.

A second finger joined the first and the tension in her broke, shattering through her like a million glittering stars. There was no thought; there was nothing but the blinding intensity of her release.

When she returned to earth, he was there, poised above her, dark eyes intent on hers. He pushed her hair off her damp forehead, his hand shaking. Evidence that he didn't have the control he'd appeared to have. "Now," he said.

He put his hand on her thigh and lifted it so her leg hooked over his hip. The thick head of his erection pressed against her body and she arched into him. He slid in easily, filling her, stretching her in the best way.

She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. He began to move, his thrusts hard, controlled and perfect. She moved against him, met his every move. Each time their bodies connected a sharp, white-hot sensation of pleasure struck her. She didn't think it was possible to be so turned on so quickly again.

But she was. She was craving release, needing more of the heady rush he'd always given her.

His breath was hot on her neck, quick and harsh. She turned her head and kissed his cheek, and he turned, catching her mouth, a shudder rolling through his body as she slid her tongue against his.

"Dios, yes," he ground out.

The controlled nature of his thrusts frayed; his movements turning choppy, desperate, keeping time with the manic need that was rolling through her, demanding release again.

He thrust into her one last time, his muscles going stiff, his entire body freezing as he found his release on a feral groan. She flexed against him and her own o.r.g.a.s.m washed over her, waves of pleasure coursing through her as her body tightened around his. He was so deep in her, so connected with her, and in that moment, it was all that mattered.

He collapsed onto his forearms, his breathing harsh, his muscles trembling. Then he separated from her body and gathered her close to him, her backside curving into his body, his hand resting on her stomach.

They didn't speak for a long moment; the only sounds in the room were their broken, uneven breaths. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the touch comforting, almost as intimate as s.e.x in a strange way.

Her brain felt foggy. Events from only moments ago running together, reduced to points of aching need and sweeping, powerful release. Sometime soon, she might feel humiliation at the fact that she'd given him so much, so quickly.

But not now.

"I didn't forget how to do it," he said finally, still out of breath.

She laughed. "What does that mean?"

"You are the first woman I've been with since my accident. I suppose I've been true to our marriage vows all this time," he said, a strange note in his voice.

It was her instinct to try and ruin the moment. To break the spell of closeness that seemed woven around them. But she couldn't. She didn't want to. She just wanted a moment. Then tomorrow, she could go back to holding him at a distance. Things could go back to the way they'd been. Mystery solved. s.e.xual tension broken.

But now, just now, she wouldn't ruin it.

"So have I," she said softly.

"You have what?" he asked.

"Been true to our marriage vows. I haven't ... I haven't been with anyone since our wedding."

"And you didn't even know we were still married," he said.

"No. But I imagine both of us had reasons other than that for staying out of physical relations.h.i.+ps." A stupid thing to say, because she didn't want to get into her reasons.

"There's never been time." He paused. "Or desire. I haven't truly wanted anyone since it happened. I've been too busy licking my wounds."

"And tonight you licked me," she said, injecting some completely inappropriate levity, trying to draw the topic away from where it was.

He laughed and rolled her beneath him, kissing her lips. "I have to go take care of things."

He got out of bed and she watched him walk to the bathroom. Watched the masculine, perfect shape of his backside. He was gorgeous, no question.

He returned a moment later, his expression stormy. "We have a problem."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

"WHAT?" Hannah tugged the covers up over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and even with the current issue hammering away in his head, he felt a pang of regret.

"The condom broke." Something that had never happened to him before. He knew it was possible, but what the h.e.l.l was the point of them if they were so fragile? "Are you on birth control?"

She hesitated. "No?"

"What's that supposed to mean? Why did you say it like you don't know?"

"I ... I do know. I'm not. I mean ... I didn't need to be. I mean ... but things happen. These things do. The odds are so low. And I mean, a little leak will hardly ..."

"Release millions of sperm?"

She cringed. "Well, okay, when you put it that way. But ..."

"But it's enough to cause an accident."

Her expression turned dark. "I know how all that works, but thank you for educating me."

"I'm being realistic. We may have a situation."

"We won't," she bit out. "No one is that unlucky."

Anger boiled in his stomach. Of course it would be unlucky to be pregnant; it would be unlucky for both of them. But it struck a blow to his pride. All he could think was that she wouldn't want to be shackled to a stupid man for the rest of her life.

"Well," he said, his tone soft, deadly, "if you are so unlucky as to be carrying my child, be sure to let me know."

"I'll deliver the message by rock through your office window," she spat.

"Appreciated." He turned toward his room, his broad back filling the door. She'd pushed him away again. But she had to. She really had to.

It was the only way she could protect herself.

"Don't think you're going to force an apology out of me this time," she said.

He froze, his shoulders rising slightly before he turned, his eyebrows drawn together. "Don't play like I forced you, Hannah, when we both know you were begging."

She curled her fingers around the bedding. "Go away, Eduardo."

"Running again?" She opened her mouth and he cut her off. "Oh, yes, Hannah, you're running, even if you are staying in your bed. You have to do it by making a b.i.t.c.hy comment or whatever you think it will take to push me, or anyone else in your life, away. You don't fool me. You aren't hiding your fear from me. I will leave, only because I have no desire to spend another moment in your company tonight. But understand, you're not pus.h.i.+ng me away if I don't want to be pushed."

He turned and walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Hannah sat in the middle of the big bed, naked, physically and emotionally. She picked up one of the silken pink pillows and threw it in the direction of the closed door. It was safer to be angry than to cry again. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to think about the torn condom. What that might mean.

She wasn't going to think about how it had felt to have him inside of her. Connected with her.

She really wasn't going to think about how it had been the first time she'd felt close to someone in her entire life. And she wasn't going to think about how much she wanted to do it again.

When Hannah appeared at breakfast she didn't look much like a corporate barracuda who spat venom at unwitting victims with little warning. She looked nervous. Her blond hair was tousled and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her skinny-cut black pants and fitted, black short-sleeved s.h.i.+rt enhanced the thinness of her frame, and the paleness of her skin.

Eduardo leaned back in his chair and raised his coffee mug to his lips. His mother and sisters both nodded in greeting.

"Morning," Hannah said, not making eye contact with him as she took her seat at the table.

"Good morning," he said, setting his mug down on the table, taking no satisfaction in the shudder of her shoulders when his mug clattered against the gla.s.s tabletop. "Did you sleep well?"

She forced a smile. "Not really. You hogged the covers all night."

"My apologies, querida."

"None needed. Some coffee might be nice, though."

His mother reached out and rang a bell that sat at the center of the table. Eduardo cringed. He hated that thing. He was far too modern-minded to ring for his servants. But Carmela Vega insisted. She was old money and old cla.s.s. Although, perhaps that had little to do with it, because he could easily imagine Hannah ringing for servants.

"Thank you," Hannah said to his mother.

"De nada."

Rafael came in and Hannah ordered her coffee to her specifications. She really did look exhausted. Pity he hadn't been able to keep her up all night in the way he'd like to have kept her up all night. But the fact that he'd irritated the sleep out of her was a close second as far as his personal satisfaction went.

"What are your plans for the day, Mama?" he asked.