Page 60 of Sweet Siren
"No," she smiled sweetly at him, her hips undulating against his in invitation. "There won'tbe."
He would not shame her. He loved her. He'd marry her. "You can't besure."
* * *
She did not movefor a long minute, considering the severity of the subject. "I'm thirty-eight. I've not had a regular monthly in ages and after Camille was born, I was never with child." He didn't need to know why. She reached up and brushed her lips on his. His mouth held the flavors of her body. To savor them on a man's lips for the first time was a rousing and titillating experience. "You can't leave me now. Not after you've tastedme."
He tucked her under him, his massive body covering her with warm and wild desire. "I want you. Wanted you for solong."
“No man,” she said, quivering with excitement, “has ever said that tome.”
“I’ll repeat it,” he whispered, his lips skimming her own, “and become all men toyou.”
Gasping, she tilted up her hips and detected the tip of his cock. He was a huge man, larger than she thought a man could be. But then, she'd had David only a few times and his penis had flagged quickly. They'd coupled quickly and without much in the way of kisses or caresses. He'd done what he must to seal their vows. Her knowledge of men was solimited.
These raptures she felt in Killian’s embrace were addictive. That she would not deny. If that was lust, then she also doubted she’d never find such enjoyment with any other man. This one was too endearing. Unique. A lover she could savor, body and soul. And she was ravenous to have him fill her, make her pulse with the power of his thrusts. "Come insideme."
He inched into her core. She panted, eager, desperate. She put a hand to his firm ass and pressed down. "Have me, Hanniford. I'm not glass and, God knows, I burn to haveyou."
With one long slow glide, his gaze holding hers, he slid into her full bore. She arched up, her whole body ardent, seeking, filled to the brim with thisman.
This man who was bigger than others. This legend, who was mightier than many. This tycoon, scoundrel, wicked thief of her heart. And she lovedhim.
Adoredhim.
How he made love to her. How he cared for her. Held her hand. Chided her. Wiped her tears. Made herlaugh.
He paused, caught her chin. "Look at me. Where areyou?"
"Here, here," she assured him. Her admission of her love pushed aside, thrown away from this moment in her mind, she flowed with him. His cock took her up and she reveled inhim.
He plunged into her with precision, drove her up up up to oblivion and frantic, rocking bliss. She shook and he came with a growl and sharp thrusts. She took them all, savored the harshness of his rise and the sweetness of his fall. For long minutes, he covered her and she welcomed the weight, the fervor, the claim ofhim.
He rolled to one side and left her empty. Even though he combed her hair from her eyes, she noted the lack ofhim.
"I prefer you insideme."
"If I stayed, I'd crushyou."
She laughed. "I'll have to be on top nexttime."
He sank his fingers into her hair and kissed her with a hearty smack. "I'm glad to hear there will be a nexttime."
She wiggled her brows. "Soon?"
"Is there a timelimit?"
"Do I have enough to go get you that brandy Ioffered?"
"Thatdepends."
"On?"
He ran a hand over one of her nipples and circled his thumb over it. "You grow hard quickly, darling. You'd better not be gone too long, wouldn't yousay?"
She snuggled closer. "Perhaps if you give meincentive."
He gave her a singular arched look. "To go orstay?"
