He drew out, thrust back, feeling her clench around him. The heat in his abdomen built into an inferno as he established a ruthless rhythm, determined to drive her over again before he found his own release.
He clung on to control, an explosive orgasm licking at the base of his spine as her soft sobs became hoarse cries and she reached
the point of no return. Her muscles clamped tight, massaging his length as she hit her peak. He thrust once, twice, and collapsed on top of her, his brutal release violent in its intensity as his seed exploded into the sweet, shuddering clasp of her body.
CHAPTER NINE
‘WELL, THAT WAS...’ Xanthe struggled to breathe while being crushed into the mattress, the floaty, fluffy sensation fading fast to be replaced with all the aches and pains of not one but two mind-blowing orgasms.
Her brain knotted with the stupidity of what they’d just done.
He shifted, lifting his weight from her, and the sensual smile on his too-handsome face was both arrogant and strangely endearing.
‘Awesome,’ he supplied.
‘Actually, I was going to say insane.’
He grunted out a strained laugh and rolled off her. Xanthe watched him sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her as he bent to untie his boots and then kick his pants off the rest of the way.
‘More like inevitable.’ He took off his shirt and balled it up to drop it next to his jeans. ‘Since we’ve both been primed for it since this afternoon,’ he added, his voice muffled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head and dumped it on the pile of clothing.
Her throat clogged at the sight of his broad back, deeply tanned but for the whiter strip of skin on his backside and the now faded scars that stood out in criss-crossing stripes across his ribs. An echo of sympathy and sorrow and curiosity about those marks hit her unawares. She forced the feelings down, disturbed by the direction of her thoughts.
Dane’s secrets were his own and always had been, and they were no concern of hers.
He stood up and strolled across the room, gloriously naked, his languid stride both arrogant and unashamed. Xanthe became transfixed by the bunch and flex of the gluteal muscles in his tight, beautifully sculpted butt cheeks. Her body hummed back to life—like one of those relighting candles people put on a birthday cake as a joke, with a flame that keeps flaring no matter how hard you try to blow it out.
She slipped under the sheets, far too aware of her own nakedness now. She’d always thought those candles were really annoying.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she ventured, trying to sound stern.
He glanced back over one broad shoulder as he opened the bathroom door. ‘Grabbing a shower.’
She hauled the sheet to her neckline to cover any hint of vulnerability. ‘I don’t remember inviting you to stay.’
He leaned against the door, thankfully shielding at least some of his more impressive assets and sent her a stern look that she suspected was much more effective than her own.
‘I’m having a shower and then we’re going to get to that talk.’
‘I don’t want to talk.’ She ignored the raised eyebrow. ‘All I want to do is sleep,’ she protested.
And try to forget about the fact that Dane’s position as her go-to guy for earth-shattering orgasms had not diminished in the least.
‘Preferably alone,’ she added for good measure.
Now that stallion had bolted out of the stable. Twice. She did not need a repeat performance.
‘And you can,’ he said. ‘Once we’re finished talking.’
‘But...’
The door slammed behind him.
‘I don’t want you here,’ she finished lamely as the power shower was switched on behind the closed door.
Oh, for—she swore, using a word that would have had Nanny Foster reaching for the soap.
The man was incorrigible. Domineering and dictatorial and completely contrary. Surely there could be nothing left to say about what had happened ten years ago? He’d figured out the truth, they’d jumped each other, had multi-orgasmic make-up sex...end of story.