A surge of energy spiked through his body. She pulled her mouth free and started kissing his jaw as she tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it out of his pants. Grey brushed the hair from her face and began kissing her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyes.
She wasn’t having much luck undressing him, probably because his shirttail was caught on the bulge in his trousers. Grey leaned away and quickly pulled off his sweater and undershirt. He took her back in his arms and began kissing her again. Her hands immediately went to his chest, and she moaned into his neck.
“Yes,” she said on an excited, breathless whisper. “Take off your pants.”
He pulled back and looked at her. He couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to. This beautiful, precious woman wanted him with a fierceness that was nearly overwhelming. She was no longer pale but flushed all the way to her hairline. Her eyes were open, staring at him with such intensity that Grey had to close his own eyes and take a deep breath before he stripped them both naked and drove himself into her.
So he left his pants on for now. He unfastened her belt instead, teasing the tender skin of her belly as he did, fighting his urgency as she continued to run her hands through the hair on his chest. Then her tongue darted out and licked one of his nipples.
His groan echoed off the high ceiling. He throbbed with a heaviness that was almost impossible to hold in check. Grey clenched his jaw as he felt himself break into a sweat.
With dogged determination, and a few prayers for control, Grey slid her pants down to her boots. The flush of her skin traveled the length of her. Her beautiful body slowly emerged, glistening with life in the glow of the firelight.
She was flawless. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers. Her own fingers continued to explore the parts of his body she could reach, tugging to pull him closer.
He couldn’t untie her wet boots. Grey cursed under his breath. With a violent tug, he finally got them off and threw them away, hearing them land someplace across the room. He stripped her pants completely off, and she immediately wrapped one silky leg around him.
That simple action was his undoing. Grey unfastened his own pants and pushed them down to his knees.
He settled between her thighs and held himself over her.
“Grace. Look at me, lass.”
She did, and Grey was stunned by the fire he saw in her eyes. “N-now,” she said with trembling urgency, lifting her hips as she wrapped both her legs around his waist. “Please, Grey. I want you.”
He bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Grace arched against him with a shout of pleasure. His whole body shook with barely leashed power. He touched her between the womanly folds that guarded her from him now, his fingers moving through her wetness as he made her ready to take him.
He had been ready for more than eight centuries to claim Grace, the one woman in the world meant for him.
Grey centered himself over her and gently pushed against the wet, hot core of her womanhood. She offered only minor resistance as he moved deeper within her.
Until he suddenly came to her maidenhead.
“Grace,” he repeated, his voice a whisper as he strained to hold himself still. It was not an easy task.
Grace Sutter was a virgin, and every instinct, every primitive male cell in his body, was screaming to claim her.
“Don’t stop,” she said, pushing herself lower and lifting her hips higher as her nails dug into his skin. “I want this, Grey. I want to feel all of you inside me.”
Their eyes locked together, Grey thrust himself through her virgin’s barrier and captured her scream in his mouth. He didn’t stop until he was deeply, completely inside her. Only then did he give her a chance to adjust to him.
He waited until she moved first.
And then Grey began a gentle rhythm that only served to harden him more, as he sank deeper into her welcoming softness. Light slowly filled the summit house, blinding him to everything but this act of possession. Time was suspended. Energy sparked around them. Wave after wave of emotion coursed through his body as they rocked together, igniting a fire that touched the very center of his soul. Grey threw back his head with the force of his pleasure as he finally released his seed deep inside her.
He relaxed on top of her with a sigh, grateful that his brain still functioned enough to remember not to crush her completely. He gently kissed her forehead, then slowly rolled off their comfortable nest of pillows, onto the cold, hard surface of the concrete floor.
He closed his eyes while he caught his breath, one arm slung over his face to shield the light of the hearth, the cold floor cooling his trembling, overheated body.
Grace Sutter now belonged to him.
And Baby, he knew for a fact, did not belong to her.
She wasn’t regretful. A bit disappointed, maybe, that what had started out so nicely had ended so painfully. But Grace had no regrets.
She had always expected they’d both find satisfaction the first time, making it a romantic, magical experience. Now, though, she was only sore and mightily worried because Grey was unnaturally silent.
He was lying beside her, breathing hard, his eyes closed and an arm thrown over his face. The set of his jaw didn’t bode well, either. It was clenched so tighly that the cords bulged in his neck.
Grace became embarrassingly aware of her nakedness as a draft of air seeped down from the balcony of the summit house. As quietly as she could, she pulled her jacket out from under her and covered her body from her chin to her thighs. She lay on her back on the blanket, unmoving, and watched the intricate play of the firelight reflecting on the log beams two stories up.
What in hell was he thinking?
She stole a peek at him, then quickly looked back at the ceiling. He hadn’t moved. His pants were still down around his ankles, his boots were still on, and sweat glistened off every inch of exposed skin. She had noticed also, in that fraction of a second, that there was a smudge of her blood on his thigh.
Grace took stock of her situation.
She hurt like the devil between her legs. That was what she got for keeping her hymen intact for so many years. She knew how unnatural it was to be thirty years old and still a virgin.
And then there was the problem of the silent man beside her. How was she going to get up gracefully, get dressed, and get back down the mountain without making an absolute fool of herself? She had no experience with the aftermath of lovemaking. She didn’t know the protocol.
Grey should. He hadn’t been a virgin. Heck. He’d probably found himself in this situation hundreds of times. Possibly thousands.
That thought made her mad. Why was he lying there like a half-naked mountain of granite? And what was he thinking?
“I saved MacBain’s son three days ago, didn’t I?” he suddenly said without moving, his arm still covering his face and his body still rigid.
“Yes, you did. Three times, as a matter of fact.” Grace spoke to the ceiling above them. “Once inside your jacket as the plane was going down, once when you covered his mouth with yours and breathed life back into him, and again when you carried him down the mountain.”
“Damn.”
“You weren’t damning him then.” She turned to look at him. “You didn’t even give a thought to his heritage. You simply saw an innocent child who needed your strength to live.”
“Damn.”
Grace finally got up, holding her jacket in front of her, and reached down to pick up her clothes. She walked behind one of the couches and started dressing, watching Grey out of the corner of her eye. He still hadn’t moved.
“He’s still that same innocent baby,” she said into the silence. “And he is also my nephew. I will protect him with my dying breath.”
He stood up so suddenly Grace nearly tripped trying to pull up her pants and take a step back at the same time. Grey pulled up his own pants but stilled, seeing the blood on his thigh.