She writhed against him, loving the weight of him on her. When he nudged at her with his hips, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Hot male skin sizzled against the tingling skin of her upper thighs. He was naked. Opening dazed eyes, she said, "When?"

He didn't answer, intent on kissing the side of her neck while his fingers stroked and rubbed and did everything to make her lose her fragile control on reality. She dug her fingers into his arms and tried to tug him up.

Dark eyes slammed into hers when he rose. "You want something?" His voice was edgy, dangerous. If he hadn't been hers, she might've been scared. Except he was hers and the rough desire in his voice made her feel exquisitely, utterly sexy.

"You." Against her thigh, she could feel the hard heat of him. For her. JacksonSantorini desired her. "I want you."

"You're not ready." He dipped his head to kiss her breastbone, his tongue stroking a line up to her neck.

Goose bumps broke out over her body. "What?" She tangled her hands in his hair. "I am."

"I'm too big. You have to be wetter."

She swallowed. Then his finger started rubbing a very, very, very pleasurable spot between her legs, and she stopped wondering just how big her big husband was. All she could thinkwas, please don't let him stop. He didn't. He kept going until she was whimpering, limp and aching with need.

"Please," she begged. "Oh, please,Jackson."

He was without mercy. "I have to make you ready, piccola . There will be only pleasure for you this night. Absolute pleasure." He pushed one finger deep into her. Her body clenched around him, trying to capture his power. "Feel the strength of what is between us. Give me your satisfaction." Demanding eyes met hers.

She tried to say that she had no more pleasure left to give, when he carefully slid another finger into her.

A scream was torn from her as tiny, exquisitely erotic quakes shook her body from the inside out. Even as she rode the storm, she could feel him gently but insistently spreading his fingers within her, an intimate invasion that sent flames racing through her bloodstream, marking her asSantorini's woman.

"Why?" It was all she could trust herself to say, her gaze locked with his in an intimacy so deep, it took the sexual connection to another level.

"I'm stretching you, my little wife ." There was an emphasis on that last word, an edge in his voice that could only be described as dominant. "You must take one more before you will be ready." It was a sensual dare.

Pulling his head down, she kissed him, taking a sharp bite out of his lower lip in retaliation. He chuckled hoarsely against her and she felt him slide that third finger, oh-so-slowly, inside her. Unable to stop, she clenched around him, her body strung taut in expectation. This time, she wasn't going over alone.

"Now!" she ordered. "Right now, JacksonSantorini !"

His eyes flashed at the order but there was a curve to his mouth. "My pleasure, Mrs.Santorini ." He withdrew his fingers and rose above her, arms braced on either side of her head. Then he ran one hand down her side to cup her buttock and hold her in place, while his thighs kept her parted legs open for him. Without further prelude, he thrust into her in a single powerful stroke.

She screamed and bucked at the invasion.

"Hush. The pain will pass." It was a low-voiced command, almost a growl. "It was better all at once."

The sheer maleness of the comment snapped her out of her sudden shock. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Catching her breath, she glared at the sexy man holding her prisoner. "Easy for you to say. Big, my eye! You're enormous!"

She couldn't believe he started to grin through the strain on his face. "Wait 'till I am really aroused, little one." It was clear that he was teasing her with that emphasis on "little."

"Ha, ha." In an effort to settle him more comfortably inside her, she wiggled.

His eyes squeezed shut.

She froze. "Jackson? Am I hurting you?"

He sounded like he was struggling to breathe. "You're torturing me." He opened his eyes. "Do you suppose you're ready for me to move?" The rough amusement in his tone made her sigh in relief.

His chest was as delicious as ever. The wide expanse of hot male skin had quickly distracted her from the sharp pain. It was the feeling of complete and utter penetration that took some getting used to. "Can you goslow ?"

He looked at her like she was mad. " Dio! After I die in this bed, please tell the church that I am a candidate for sainthood." Despite his obvious arousal, he did move slowly, making her sensitive inner tissues feel almost too much. Under her hands, his back muscles moved in an erotic symphony. Fire began to ripple through her.

Two slow, deep strokes later, he stopped. "I can't."

"Can't?" shecried , desperate. "You have to! It feels wonderful." The sensation of his big body moving inside her was the best thing she'd ever experienced.

He glanced down at her with that dark male look that had always scared her. Except on him, it made her want to pet and soothe. And give.

"I.Can't. Go. Slow." He was enunciating his words very carefully, as if he'd forgotten how to speak English. The Italian in him was very much apparent, all smoky heat and possessive hunger.

Wrapping her arms and legs tight around him, she whispered, "Then go fast." Her trust in him was absolute.

"Taylor." His eyes went darker than night at her consent and she could almost see his control snap."Hold on, mia moglie e bellissima ."

Clasping her hard against him, he surged into her and then there was only passionate fury. Her husband's body drove deeper and deeper until she felt indelibly marked. Forever branded. Her skin tightened over her entire body as he stroked her closer to a shattering crescendo so magnificent that her mind could barely comprehend the sensory overload.

Then every muscle, in her body seemed to stiffen and barely a second later, explode. She screamed as hot, hard sexual pleasure short-circuited every nerve she possessed, shocking her into ecstasy so powerful that she felt singed. Her only anchor was her husband, big and powerful and hers.

Hers.

Chapter 9

Jacksonroused at six the next morning to findTaylorcrushed under him. He lifted himself off at once.

"Whatchyadoin'?" A sleepyTaylorraised her arms above her head and stretched. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, plump and inviting.

"I was squashing you." He laid his hand on her rib cage, indulging in the feel of her sleep-warmed skin, like liquid satin under his palm.

"Um." Lazy blue eyes blinked at him. She raised her hands and squeezed his biceps. "You're kinda heavy but I didn't mind. It's nice. Like a sexy blanket." Then she tried to span one muscular upper arm with her small hands, without success. "You're so..." She just sighed.

His throat turned dry. "I wasn't hurting you?"

She leaned up and ran her teeth along the muscles she seemed fascinated with. "What?"

"Never mind. Go right ahead." He let her push him onto his back, more than ready for her soft caresses.

To his surprise, she suddenly sat up wide-awake. "Am I being selfish? I should be thinking about my brother."

"We've done all we can for the moment." He reached up to touch her cheek. "Enjoy yourself. It might be tough for a while once the paparazzi descend."

Her scowl was ferocious. "If they hurt you again, I swear I'll kill someone."

He pulled her down to sprawl on top of him. "Thank you." His heart was so used to cynicism that he could barely understand this new emotion shouldering its way in.

"You're welcome." She made a solemn face, then leaned up on her elbows and kissed his jaw. "Jackson?"

"Yes, piccola?" He felt such tenderness for her that he spoke to her as he never did to another human being.

"Thank you for last night."

She was thanking him for the most sensual experience of his life? "I'm the grateful one here, Taylor. I've only one word to describe you. Hot."

"Really?" She propped herself up on his chest with her forearms. "I'm hot?" Her wildly tousled hair caressed his skin while her smile brought sunshine into the room.

"Yes." He chuckled at her delight. "I forgot to give you something last night."

"What?"

"It's over there, in the drawer." He hadn't wanted to give her the intimate gift until she'd accepted him as a lover, but hadn't been able to stop himself from buying it.

She wiggled off his body and walked over, holding a sheet to her front. Grinning, he feasted on the back view instead. "This big box?" She pulled out a flat box, her long hair curling just above her bottom, drawing his eye to her perfect shape.

"Yes." Hot was an understatement. She was giving him third-degree burns with that body of hers.

He sat up when she came to kneel beside him on the bed. Tearing off the paper, she bared the name of a well-known lingerie designer. "Ooooooh." Eyes wide, she pulled off the lid to expose several pieces of lacey silk underwear. Picking up a tiny pair of panties, she gave him an arch look. "Is this a present for me or you?"

He kissed a nipple, biting back a smile. "Both."

She dropped the silky creation back into the box and pushed her hands through his hair, her smile bright.

"I think I'm okay now,Jackson. I'm not afraid anymore."

He looked up into her blue eyes. "Perhaps you accept that you are safe with me in bed, but what about the fears in here?" He touched her heart.

She looked troubled. "Just being able to make love isn't enough, is it?"

"No, but it's a fine place to start." He tumbled her below him, vowing to teach her to entrust him with her love. For now, he'd work on obtaining her complete trust in bed, because despite her belief that she wasn't afraid anymore, flickers of fear still shadowed her eyes, her wounds too deep to be healed by one night of loving.




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