“Oh, Caroline, I'll make this good for you,” he vowed. “I'll bring you such joy. I promise.”
“You already have,” she said softly, then gasped as he began to penetrate her.
He took her slowly, giving her body time to adjust to his size and strength. It was so difficult to hold back when every fiber of his being ached to pound into her, branding her as his own. Something very primitive had been awakened inside him, and he didn't just want to make love to her; he wanted to devour her, possess her, bring her such pleasure that she couldn't even dream of giving herself to another.
But he held back, straining to maintain a gentle touch. She wasn't ready for the ferocity of his desire. She wouldn't understand it. And he cared too much to frighten her.
He cared.
It was a stunning revelation, and his entire body froze.
“Blake?”
He'd known he liked her, he'd known he desired her. But it had taken this moment of intimacy to realize that his emotions were far more intense. He, who had thought that he'd lost the power to feel anything deeply, had been touched by this woman, and—
“Blake?”
He looked down.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said, a touch of wonder in his voice. “No. As a matter of fact, I think that everything might actually be just right.”
A hint of a smile graced her lips. “What do you mean?”
“I'll tell you later,” he said, worried that this magical feeling might disappear if he examined it too closely. “But for now…”
He pushed forward. Caroline gasped.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No. It's just that—I feel so, well, full somehow.”
Blake let out a shout of laughter. “I'm not even halfway there,” he said with an amused smile.
Her mouth fell open. “You're not?”
“Not yet,” he said solemnly. “Although this”—he pressed forward, the motion bringing exquisite friction to them both—“does bring me a little closer.”
She gulped. “Only closer? Not all the way there?”
He smiled slowly and shook his head. “Of course if I did this”—he gave his hips a tiny thrust—“I'd be almost there.”
“But did you—Am I still—”
“—a virgin?” he completed for her. “Technically, I suppose, yes, but as far as I'm concerned, you're mine.”
Caroline swallowed and blinked back tears, barely able to contain her emotions. It was amazing what a simple sentence could do to her. You're mine. Oh, how she wanted that to be true. Forever.
“Make me yours,” she whispered. “In every way.”
She could see in his face how much his restraint was costing him. The night air was chilly, but Blake's brow was beaded with sweat, and the muscular cords of his throat stood out prominently.
“I don't want to hurt you,” he said, his voice straining against itself.
“You won't.”
And then, as if the last bit of his reserve had been used up, he let out a hoarse cry and plunged forward, sheathing himself within her completely. “Sweet Lord,” he gasped. “Caroline.”
She couldn't fight off a crazy urge to laugh. “Oh, Blake,” she gasped. “I see the difference now.”
“Do you?”
“There's more?”
He nodded. “Just wait and see.”
And then he began to move.
* * *
Later Caroline couldn't decide which part she'd liked best. Was it the feeling of completeness she felt when they were joined as one? Was it the primitive rhythm of his body as he claimed her as his own? Certainly she couldn't discount the explosive climax she'd felt, immediately followed by Blake's shout of passion as he left his seed in her.
But now, as she lay in his arms, the ocean breeze caressing their bodies, she thought that this might be the best of all. He was so warm and close, and she could hear his heartbeat as it slowed to its normal, sedate pace. She could smell the salt on his skin and the passion in the air. And there was something so right about it all, as if she'd waited her whole life just for this moment.
But mixed in with her happiness was an uneasy fear. What happened now? Did this mean he wanted to marry her? And if he did, was that only because he now felt it was the right thing to do? And if that were the case, did she care?
Well, of course she cared. She wanted him to love her with the intensity of emotion she felt for him. But maybe he would learn to love her if they were married. She might be miserable if she married a man who didn't love her, but she knew she'd be miserable without him. Maybe she should just close her eyes, jump in, and hope for the best.
Or maybe, she thought with a frown, she ought to remember that he hadn't said more than two words to her since they'd made love, and certainly nothing about marriage.
“Why the long face?” Blake asked, idly stroking her hair with his fingers.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just woolgathering.”
“About me, I imagine,” he said quietly. “And my intentions.”
She drew back in horror. “I would never dream of manipulating you into—”
“Shush,” he said with soft authority. “I know.”
“You do?”
“We will be married as soon as I can obtain a special license.”
Her heart leaped. “Are you sure?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A stupid one,” she mumbled. Hadn't she just decided that she didn't care if he wanted to marry her just because it was the right thing to do?
No, that wasn't right. She did care. She was just going to marry him anyway.