Secret Fire

Dimitri had only just begun. This was his fantasy come true, what he had dreamed about for so long: to have her needing him, wanting him with the same intensity that controlled him.

His lips ravaged her face, and then he was kissing her, his tongue plunging in deeply, mercilessly, the full force of his passion released in an explosion of longing. When he entered her seconds later, it was bliss, purest bliss as he quenched the fire; it was what she needed—to be completely possessed. And the sweet throbbing that followed was all the sweeter because he came with her.

You’re terribly wicked.”

“Yes,” he agreed, taking her in his arms, where she pressed her body close, closer. “But so are you, my love.”

“That’s nice,” she murmured against his lips. “Say it again.”

“My love. You are, you know. Without you, there is no joy in my life.”

Did you hear that, Katherine? Do you believe it now?

She did. This fairy tale had come true.

But he had learned something from this encounter that would satisfy him for the time being. She wasn’t indifferent to him after all. There was passion in this woman that needed no aphrodisiac to bring it to the surface. It just needed a gentle touch, and there would be other opportunities—he would see to that.