The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит
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don’t ever need to hide these from me,’ he muttered, while his fingers continued to work their magic, rendering her slick and ready for him. ‘I’ve seen them. I’ve watched you fight against them, get angry at them, despair of them but those are your emotions, not mine. These marks on your skin are a part of you now and I love them. I love you.’
He eased back up the bed until they were face-to-face again.
‘Say it,’ he demanded softly. ‘Say, “Trig loves all of me and always will and I will never doubt it”.’
‘Trig loves me,’ she whispered.
‘Louder.’
‘Trig loves me,’ she said more firmly.
‘Again.’
‘You love me. Now would you mind showing me?’
‘Been showing you for years.’
He eased onto his back, his gaze intent, willing her to follow, and she went with him, hands to his chest as she straddled him. Damn but he was built. She wasn’t going to break him, that was for sure. She wondered how careful he had to be when it came to not breaking her.
‘Take your time,’ he muttered. ‘There’s no rush.’
‘That’s good.’ Because she wasn’t in any hurry.
She started at his shoulders, touching and tasting, not skimming as she moved down his torso and learned the way his muscles ran and bunched. She put her hand over his and learned the rhythms he liked, the little flick of his thumb at the top of each stroke, and eventually she wet her lips and took him in her mouth, just the tip and took his curse as a benediction.
His hand fell away and she took him in deeper, feeling the stretch in her lips because he was beautifully proportioned all over and wasn’t exactly small. She tried to take a little more but ended up pulling off him with a loud pop. ‘Damn but you’d think I’d remember that,’ she offered. ‘Not to mention what I used to do with it because right now I’m guessing that deep throating you is out unless I’m a hell of a lot more practised at this than I appear to be.’
Trig groaned and hooked his hands beneath her armpits and the next minute he was kissing her again and surging against her, not inside her, not yet, but doing a mighty fine job of jutting up against her sweet spot regardless.
He had a thing about her hair, winding his hands in it as he grasped her head and deepened the kiss. He had a thing for wrapping his arms around her, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other palming her buttocks. He had a thing about kisses, deep and dirty.
Finally, she sat up and took him in hand and positioned him at her entrance. He put his hands to her hips and bit his lower lip, his eyes a hot glitter as he gave a little push.
Lena gasped. Trig stopped, closed his eyes and breathed.
She pitched forward, skin against skin, as much as she could. ‘Kiss me through it,’ she whispered against his lips, and he did, until he was embedded all the way inside her.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I will be.’
‘You sure?’
‘You know me. I love a good challenge.’
‘You’re not exactly reassuring me here, Lena.’
‘You don’t need reassuring—we’ve done this before.’ She moved, a slow slide, a little pitch from side to side. He controlled her with his hands at her waist, lifting until she was almost off him, before sliding slowly back into her.
This time they both groaned.
He kept the pace slow and the rhythm easy. ‘You’re holding back on me, aren’t you?’ she whispered. ‘I thought you said you were all in?’
‘I am all in. Which is why I’m holding back on you.’
The man had a point. ‘Doesn’t seem exactly fair.’
‘I’m good,’ he said. ‘Any gooder and I’ll be gone.’
‘Still—’
‘Why are you even thinking?’ he said, and flipped her over and kissed her, probably just to shut her up, but the kiss turned sweet and tender somewhere along the way, and his hands were so very gentle as he slid between her legs and began to move.
She stopped thinking around about the time he tilted her hips just so and rocked against her. Every muscle in her stomach and below tightened in response.
‘You like that?’ he murmured against her lips.
‘Just like that.’
So he gave it to her exactly like that and shot her up to a place where she didn’t have to think at all.
Just feel.
* * *
Trig woke well before the dawn, pretending sleep, watching Lena sleep until he couldn’t stay there a moment longer. Regret rode him hard and shame followed suit. He hadn’t meant to lie beyond the hospital emergency rooms. He’d never meant to lie to Lena at all, but the lies had just kept coming and there’d never been a time to tell her straight that they weren’t married.
Except maybe last night.
Or the one before that.
Rolling from the bed, he groped around on the floor for his sweat pants and pulled them on. He headed for the courtyard and some air, looking out over the low stone fence at the lights of the city below. A party city, some said. A reckless place where people left their inhibitions behind and went after what they truly wanted.
Last night he’d taken what he’d wanted and to hell with the consequences.
This morning he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror.
He heard the rustle of bedcovers followed by a barely there groan. He turned and watched as Lena slipped from the bed and limped over to her suitcase. She drew out a white baby-doll nightie and slipped it on, lifting her hair out from underneath it. She tried to finger-comb her hair, caught him looking at her and stopped and shot him a rueful smile.
What was she thinking? What was her brain doing when it buried some memories and made a meal out of others? Why had she found it so easy to believe that they were married?
She walked up to his side and turned her back on the city lights in favour of leaning back against the wall and looking at him.
He couldn’t hold her gaze.
He leaned forward, hands to the wall and kept his eyes on the city. He shouldn’t have given in. Nobody was perfect, he knew that, but hell. His abuse of Lena’s trust was staggering.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’
‘No.’
‘Anything to do with me?’
‘No.’
‘Pretty sure you’re lying.’
‘Yeah, well. I do that.’
Lena wrapped her arms around her waist as if cold. ‘Why?’
Trig closed his eyes. ‘Just one bad call leading to the next, I guess. I got no excuses for you, Lena.’
She stayed silent for a while after that and Trig willed her to go away, go back to bed, anywhere as long as it was away from him. But she didn’t go anywhere, just ducked her head and bumped her shoulder against his. Wanting body contact, more body contact, and he flinched beneath the weight of her need and his guilt.
‘What else have you lied about?’ she asked raggedly.
Where did he even start?
‘Do you love me?’ she whispered and he closed his eyes and told her the one truth that had never wavered.
‘So much.’
‘Then