Her shocked cry and brutal tightness told Andrew instantly she was a virgin. That she’d been with no men while away at college or afterward—and he’d agonized and acted like a fool for no reason. But he wouldn’t smite his fortune now by dwelling on who they had or hadn’t been with before. Not when he’d been given the gift of making love to this woman. This fucking goddess. She was the only one who would ever matter. And he would have revered Jiya no matter who she’d been with, but he was thankful as hell he’d touched no one for a decade. There was nothing to mar the perfection of being with her. As far as Andrew was concerned, she was his first time. Jiya Dalal. His first, last and forever, whether they could be together or not.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sex was nothing like she’d imagined.
It was better—and Andrew hadn’t even moved yet.
Why wasn’t he moving?
His weight on top of her was a revelation. So glorious and safe and visceral, her hands went to his hard, perspiring back automatically and pulled him closer. Dropped to his thick buttocks and yanked that closer, too, and oh—oh the deep groan passing through him made goosebumps break out on every inch of her skin. How had they been near each other so many times and not fit their corresponding parts together? That was madness.
He was full and pulsing inside of her, his body so heavy. Man. Andrew. His scent had an added texture that was primal, sexual. They were still engaged in the same kiss he’d initiated before entering her, but he was breathing heavily now. Faster, faster. And while she wanted him to move, to make love to her, she also wanted to savor every second. This moment, the next, the one after.
The thundering of her heart drowned out common sense or any fear of what would transpire after tonight. After they’d let their needs rule, damn the consequences. If they couldn’t have anything else, she wanted him to look back and remember they had something special. Real. If it couldn’t be forever, at least they’d remember tonight twice as long, right?
The air in the room was still, expectant, like time had paused in honor of what they were doing and her own body thrummed in the same manner. Waiting to be taken.
“Andrew?”
“You’re a virgin,” he grated into the side of her neck. “Fuck. I thought…I didn’t know…”
“Is that a bad or good thing?”
He lifted his head and looked down at her, lust, affection and denial warred in his expression. “A whole lot of both, sweetheart.” His mouth grazed hers once, twice, his gaze searching hers. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you. Please.”
“You didn’t. I love the way you feel.”
His relieved exhale bathed her face. “Goddamn me for drinking whiskey tonight. If I forget a single second of this…”
“You won’t,” she whispered. “We won’t.”
“Yeah, I’m a little afraid of that, too.” Andrew planted a hand beside her head and levered up slightly to look down to where their bodies joined. They both watched him draw his shaft out slowly and slide it back inside her, Jiya’s nipples getting harder with every added inch. When he was close to occupying her fully, he rocked his hips hard and they both gasped. “Son of a bitch,” Andrew rasped, squeezing her hip hard. “How am I going to make this good when I just want to lay the fuck into you?”
Her sex clenched at the raw, animal hunger in his tone. “If that’s what you want, it’s what I want,” she managed.
He circled his hips and ground down until her thighs started to shake. “I can’t fuck a virgin the way I want to fuck you,” he growled. “Jiya, do you have any idea what it would do to me if I hurt you? I’ll go insane.”
“I know.” She pulled his face down for a kiss and he pillaged her mouth. There was no other way to describe the way he shoved her lips wide with his own. The way he angled his head and lapped at the inside of her mouth with his tongue, before twisting and muddling her brain from a different angle. And as their mouths tangled, his lower body started to roll. To rock. Every time Andrew entered her, seating himself fully with a triumphant grunt, a cog turned low in her belly, tightening, tightening. She didn’t know whether to spread her thighs open or press them to Andrew’s pumping hips. It felt good both ways. Too good. So good, she couldn’t rest, couldn’t stay still, her body writhing beneath his bigger one.
The sounds of flesh slapping filled the air and she felt the desperation in Andrew. Felt it. He gritted an apology and pinned her down with his hips, pounding into her—one, two, three—before stopping with a curse, his breathing shallow. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m trying to go slow.” He eased out and in slowly, his eyes rolling back in his head. “You’re just so tight, sweetheart. Fit me like a dream. Knew you would, you beautiful fucking woman.”