Caterina lay in her bed and stared up at the ceiling.
Midnight.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Since their kiss in the cellar, she’d realized Rip Savage was the type of man she’d been looking for her whole life. When she opened herself up in Italy and discovered his betrayal, it had been easy to hide behind newly built walls. Falling in love was scary as hell, and her past had not been a success story.
But now that she was back at Winsor, she knew things had changed. By being forced to start over, they’d strengthened the foundation of their relationship. Every day, he proved his true feelings for her. She woke up every morning excited to see him. She loved talking with him, working with him, and most of all, she saw clearly the man her father had taken in like family.
He’d been right. Rip was a man who had the potential to love passionately and had transformed the winery by pouring in his very heart and soul. It was more than a business to him—it was his livelihood. His creative vision.
His home.
Cat sat up in bed. For the past few nights, she’d allowed herself the space and time to come to terms with the overwhelming truth.
She loved Rip Savage and wanted to marry him.
It was time to finally show him.
She got up from bed, shivering as her bare feet hit the cold floor, and walked over to the adjoining door. Her hand settled on the knob and her heart pounded madly in her chest. Would it be locked? Would he be asleep? Would she have the courage to give him everything she’d been holding back?
Cat dragged in a deep breath and turned the knob.
The door swung open.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The gravelly, seductive voice drifted in the air, making her freeze. Her gaze searched the darkness, finally settling on the shadowy figure sitting on the edge of the bed. The hum of sexual energy crackled in the silence. Anticipation flowed through her veins. She moved closer. “I needed to be sure.”
He straightened to his full height. His sweat pants hung low on his hips. His chest and feet were bare. Coal-black hair curled around his ears and brushed his neck, the thick strands tousled as if he’d been trying to sleep. The scent of musk and man drifted to her nostrils. His gaze seethed with emotion as he slowly closed the distance between them, stopping right in front of her. “And now? Are you sure?”
Her breath shuddered from her lips. She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders. “Yes.”
His mouth descended. His lips brushed hers with the lightest of strokes, his tongue gliding along the edges of her mouth in a teasing caress. She rose on tiptoes to get closer, to get more, but he resisted, nibbling on her bottom lip as his tongue slid between her lips for just a taste, then drew back.
“I need the words,” he commanded, his hands pulling through her hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I need you to be mine, because without you, this winery means nothing to me anymore. I want you. Want you in my bed, in my life. Want you for my wife. Want you forever. Do you understand?”
Her skin burned. She shook with pure need, her eyes stinging with emotion, and clasped her hands behind his head, arching up. “I want you, too,” she breathed out against his damp lips. “I want you to be mine. I want to run the winery with you, and be your lover, and your friend. I want you to be my husband, for us to be a family. Do you understand, Rip Savage? Right now, it’s about you and me—nothing else.”
His mouth took hers, his tongue plunging deep, claiming her with possessive strokes as he drank, the raw hunger beckoning to her like a primitive mating call. The rough scratch of his stubble rubbed against her cheeks, and she thrust all ten fingers into his midnight hair, holding him with her own demand as she met and matched every stroke of his tongue with her own.
He dragged his mouth from hers and stared into her eyes with a stirring tenderness. Then he bent over and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her on the quilt. Never taking his gaze from her face, he stripped off his sweats and joined her. With quick movements, he pulled the black slip down over her shoulders, releasing her naked breasts, dragging the silky material over her belly, her hips, her legs, then tossing it to the floor. He lay against her, hard muscles pressed against her soft curves. One thigh tangled with hers, holding her open for his touch.
Then he proceeded to fulfill the glittering promise in his eyes as he used his mouth and hands and tongue to push her to the limit of ecstasy. Her breasts were treated to the loving touch of his fingers as he tugged at her nipples and soothed with his tongue. He stroked the flesh of her stomach, her thighs, explored the dip of her belly button and the sensitive crease where hip met thigh.
She was just as greedy to touch him. She tested his hard muscles with her nails, tangling her fingers in the thicket of hair that covered olive-toned skin. She traced the lean strength of his thighs, moving inward, cupping and squeezing his pulsing shaft with loving strokes that made him suck in his breath and jerk his hips. With a growl, he shifted lower, pushing open her thighs, and then she felt his warm breath on her sensitive core. Every muscle tightened with anticipation, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and then his tongue licked her slow and sweet, and she arched into the pillow, begging for more.
He gave it to her. He rubbed her clit with a feather light touch as his tongue explored, pushing her closer to the edge. Curling two fingers, he thrust into her over and over, until he found the spot that made everything inside clench and shiver. His tongue licked her clit and he hit the magic spot and then she was coming hard, his name falling from her lips.
Kissing her gently through the aftershocks, he fit himself with a condom. Then rose up above her and interlaced his fingers with hers. Her dazed gaze met his and his lips tugged in a sensual smile that promised her everything.
“Again.”
He surged inside her with one strong, perfect thrust. She gasped at the stretching, tight sensation, her body quivering and clenching down. His fingers squeezing hers, his gaze pinned on her face, he took her on a wild ride where her body met and matched each thrust he demanded. The tension escalated slowly as Rip contrasted long deep strokes with slow, teasing motions, until she was mad for him. The pace increased to a demanding, frantic tempo until she hurled over the edge, screaming from the shattering release. He called out her name as he shuddered and came, his body jerking, hands still holding hers.
They drifted down together in a pile of tangled limbs and sweat-dampened skin.
A long while later, he whispered the words in her ear.
“I love you, Caterina Victoria Winsor.”
She smiled in the darkness and stroked his cheek. “And I love you, Ripley Savage.”
She closed her eyes with a contented sigh and slept.