Rose screamed as her world exploded.
Instantly, he lifted his mouth from her, shoving her legs apart with his hips, positioning his hardness between her thighs. She was still gasping for breath, lost in dazed ecstasy, when she felt his hardness pressing against her wet core, demanding entrance.
With a ragged breath, he pushed himself inside her with one relentless movement.
She was unprepared for the shock of pain, unready for the enormous size of him entering her virgin body, as he pushed himself inside her. She choked back a cry.
He froze, holding himself utterly still.
Then slowly, as she exhaled, he began to move inside her. Gently, ever so gently, he swayed his hips against her, rocking back and forth as he thrust with agonizing slowness inside her. To her surprise, a new wave of pleasure begin to build, coiling low in her belly. A new shot of ecstasy swept her up almost instantly as he filled her so deeply and completely, all the way to her heart.
Deeper. Deeper. His force split her in two but the pain had somehow turned into hot, molten pleasure. It built so hard and fast that within minutes, she gasped out his name as she felt a second explosion, even deeper and more shattering than the first, and she screamed. His deep, low voice joined her, shouting out his pleasure with a growl of ecstasy, and she felt tears on her cheeks and realized she was weeping with joy.
After Xerxes collapsed over her sweet naked body, it took a long time before he slowly came back to his senses.
Eventually, he felt the hot sun on his back, felt the rough sand against his knees. He looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a smile.
His heart turned over in his chest.
He’d never felt anything like this. Ever. For anyone.
He’d never even imagined lovemaking could feel like this. Was it because he’d never taken a virgin to his bed before? Was that why he felt such amazement, such tenderness?
It had nearly killed him to hold himself back as he’d made love to her. But knowing she was a virgin, he’d wanted to make it good for her. And what she’d done for him…the way she’d made him feel…
Tenderly, he rolled off her body so he wouldn’t crush her with his weight. He moved to her side, still cradling her body with his own. He’d wanted nothing more than to make love to her like this, on the white sand as the waves crashed beneath the palm trees. He’d wanted to fill her, to impale her, to make her scream out his name. But it hadn’t been like he’d imagined. It had been better. It had been the single most amazing sexual experience of his life.
Tucking his hand behind his head, he stared up at the wispy white clouds drifting over the blue sky. Then he glanced at the beautiful woman in his arms, and realized to his shock that he already wanted more of her. And it was even more shocking than that.
He realized in that moment that he didn’t want to give her up. Ever. He wanted to possess her forever.
THE next morning, Rose lay cradled against him in the large bed as she stared out the bedroom window, watching the pink streaks of sunrise cross the sky.
They’d moved into the bedroom sometime yesterday afternoon. They’d spent the rest of the night there, only leaving the bed to shower and scavenge and devour simple meals in the kitchen.
She looked at him now as he slept. His peaceful face looked younger somehow, almost boyish. Sleeping with him all night, in his arms after the many times they’d made love, was utter bliss. It was exquisite.
It was torture.
Why did she feel this way—so completely infatuated, so enamored, so connected to him in every way possible? Was it because he’d taken her virginity? Was she deluding herself, like she had with Lars, into imagining Xerxes as the fulfillment of some romantic dream?
“Don’t think I’m a good person,” he’d told her grimly. She didn’t want to believe him. How could she when every inch of her body down to blood and bone insisted differently? And Xerxes had kept every promise he’d made to her. Even last night, when she’d practically thrown herself at him, he’d actually tried to let her go, to warn her off. She was the one who’d called him on his promise, demanding that he kiss her. Giving him her virginity had been entirely her choice.
She didn’t regret it. She couldn’t.
And yet…
She’d told herself she could just have casual sex—that she could experience sensual pleasure without falling in love. Now, she realized how foolish she had truly been to think she could ever keep her heart separate from her body. She did not have the walls of armor that men had. That Xerxes had.
“No regrets?” he said quietly beside her, as if he’d read her mind.
She turned to him with an unsteady smile. “None,” she lied, her heart in her throat. “In fact, I was just thinking I should have jumped into bed with some man a long time ago.”
He growled. “I am glad you did not.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her. His embrace was tender, making her heart yearn and twist and break beneath the pleasure.
He pulled back, his dark brows lowered in concern as he searched her gaze. “What’s wrong, Rose?” he said quietly. “Are you thinking of Växborg?”
“No.”
“You still love him.”
“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “I don’t think I ever did.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes shining. “I am glad.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she was utterly lost. Her memory of Lars seemed like a dewdrop compared to the ocean of longing and desire she felt for Xerxes now.
But she couldn’t fall in love with Xerxes after he’d specifically warned her not to! She couldn’t be that stupid—that gullible and naive!
Abruptly, she sat up in bed.
“Rose?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled back at him, but it took an effort. She blinked fast to hide threatening tears. “I’m great. We had a fun night together. It’s no big deal.”
“It was your first time,” he said softly, putting his hands below his head on the pillow. He smiled, his eyes caressing her. “Of course it’s a big deal.”
“Well, you needn’t worry.” She looked away. “I’m not going to pester you for an engagement ring.”
“That’s good,” he said with a snort. “We both know I am not the sort of man for you to bring home to your parents. I’m not exactly husband-and-father material.”
“Right.”
“I mean it.” He sat up beside
