Page 106 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
She’d never felt beautiful, not really. Not until her memories had been lost. When they had returned, the ugliness of her life had risen to the fore. But now with him, worshipping her as he was—
“You make me feel beautiful.”
“Never doubt,” he whispered as he turned his head to the side and closed his mouth around her nipple, his tongue stroking and teasing, shooting glorious pleasure to the apex between her thighs. She lifted her hips to meet his, seeking some sort of surcease.
He chuckled low, the wicked sound its own aphrodisiac. She scraped her fingers over his back, over the dragon, imagined she could feel its muscles within his. He scooted lower, kissing her stomach. Lower still, licking at the hollow of her hip. Lower still, spreading her, blowing a gentle breeze over the curls.
“Drake.” His name was a benediction, a plea, a question.
His eyes held hers, boldly, irrevocably without any doubt.
“Every aspect of you is beautiful,” he said, before dipping his head. The first caress of his tongue nearly had her coming off the bed.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, pressed her head back against the pillows as he nibbled and nipped, stroked and suckled. Insistent, determined. The pleasure escalating until only this moment, only he, only raw sensation existed. No memories, no other man, no ugliness.
Only beauty. Only his adulation. Only joy. Only want. Only desire.
No shame in any of it. Only acceptance.
She allowed herself to embrace it, fall into it, be consumed by it until her back was arching, her body trembling, her voice crying out his name in wonder. She was lost, lost in the bliss of it, he her only anchor—and even that added to the enjoyment of it. She had soared to new heights of awareness, had experienced incredible splendor.
A memory that put all others to shame, but still not enough.
He kissed the inside of her thigh, then eased up until he was gazing down on her, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes. How did she tell him it wasn’t enough?
“I want you,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Today is for you.”
She shook her head. “I need you.” She slipped her hand between them, felt his burgeoning hardness and wondered that he wasn’t doubled over in pain. “I need you inside me.”
“Phee—”
“You promised to obey my commands, so take me.”
He cursed harshly, growled low. His mouth came down on hers, hungry, without finesse or gentleness. She relished his eagerness, relished the notion that she could drive him to such madness. There was no shame to be found in true, honest desire. She understood that now, understood it completely.
She almost laughed at the haste with which he removed his trousers. He rose up over her, held her gaze, and plunged swift and deep as she lifted her hips to welcome him. He stilled, his eyes sliding closed, his groan echoing between them. “I love the way you feel,” he said.
Slowly he opened his eyes. She ran her hands over every aspect of him that she could reach. “I love the way it feels when you’re inside me.”
Words she’d never thought to say, words that made her entire body grow warm, but she would not retract them. She loved the weight of him, the fullness of him nestled within her.
Holding her gaze, he began to rock against her, slow but sure, long and deep, resparking the sensations that only moments before had nearly undone her. She wondered if it all felt as marvelous to him as it did to her, and she found herself grateful that she could give him this, that she could share it with him—openly, without remorse, without long-ago memories intruding.
It was only they, here in this bed, touching, kissing, sighing, moaning, rocking against each other. Pleasure building until they reached the summit together. Until they were both soaring. Until there was nothing except each other.
Drake thought he might have died. For a brief second at least, when the pleasure had ripped through him with an incredible force that he’d never before experienced. He had planned to give to her, and not to take, but he supposed there was a sort of giving even in the taking.
Lethargic, not certain he’d ever be able to move again, he rested on his side, facing her, his hand draped over her hip. He didn’t fool himself into believing that anything had changed between them, that he would have anything more than today. When they had made love before, she had not known who they were.
Now she knew. She wasn’t here because she loved him. She was here because she needed to put the past with her uncle—and perhaps her past with Drake—behind her. She was staring at his chest more now than she was looking into his eyes.
“It’s somewhat of a relief,” she said quietly, “to feel free of him. I didn’t expect to ever know what it was to willingly be with a man. I wasn’t certain I’d even be able to be so close to a man.” Laughing lightly, she finally lifted her gaze to his. “I seem to have overcome my doubts.”
“Does this change your position on marriage?”
