Seven

JP smoothed a hand over his jaw, wincing at the bandaged cut, then knocked on the door. He was later than he'd planned thanks to some bad weather that delayed their flight. He had called Emily to let her know, smiled at the memory of her understanding voice.

It was too late for dinner, but not too late to see her.

At least, he hoped not too late.

He raised his hand, ready to knock again, wondering if maybe she had fallen asleep. Then the door opened and he wondered if he had fallen asleep. If he was dreaming.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

Emily stood before him, a vision in flowing white. A satin nightshirt flowed over her gentle curves, clinging to the hardened peaks of her nipples and gentle flare of her trim hips. A matching robe hung open over the shirt, the hem flirting with the swell of her calves.

Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, soft and shining, almost like a halo in the candlelight glowing behind her. He blinked, wondering again if he was dreaming—until she smiled and reached for his hand, pulling him into the apartment.

"I—" He stopped, not sure what to say. Not sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but part of him was still afraid he was dreaming.

She led him toward the sofa, that small smile still teasing her lips as she released his hand and reached for a glass of wine. "I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet."

JP shook his head, swallowed. Cleared his throat. Shook his head again. "You're beautiful."

Her smile widened, shining in the depths of those gorgeous blue eyes. Then she stepped into his arms, all satin and warm flesh as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss against the cut on his jaw.

"Does it hurt?"

JP shook his head, almost afraid to move. He didn't have to, not when she pressed her body against his and kissed him.

Sweet. Gentle. Almost a little hesitant, as if she wasn't quite sure how he'd react.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hand cupping her ass as he pressed his hips against hers. His mouth crashed over hers in hungry need. Seeking, thrusting, demanding. He'd been waiting three weeks for this, afraid to move too fast, afraid of scaring her off. She wasn't like other women, he wanted her to know she was special, to wait for the right time.

He didn't have to wait anymore.

But still…

He pulled away, his eyes searching hers. "You're sure?"

She nodded, her hips rocking against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. JP didn't hesitate. He lifted her in his arms, groaned when she wrapped those long, slender legs around his waist, and carried her to the bedroom.

Candles glowed from the wooden dresser, filling the room with soft light and the faintest hint of vanilla. JP barely noticed as he carried her to the bed, gently eased her to the mattress. He peeled off his coat and kicked off his shoes, stretched out beside her.

Claimed her mouth again, the kiss deep and slow as he ran his hands up her legs. She pressed herself closer, her hips rocking, her hands grabbing the hem of his shirt. And then she was pushing him, rolling him to his back.

Straddling him.

JP swallowed back a groan, forced himself to hold still as she pushed the shirt up his chest. She rained gentle kisses along his skin, her hands touching every inch of him. Smoothing over the tight flesh of his stomach. Across the broad expanse of his chest.

And then pulled one flat nipple into her mouth and sucked.

JP nearly shot off the bed. Emily sat up, her hips pressing against his straining cock, and gave him an innocent smile. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, my love, not even close." She frowned, and he realized he'd spoken in French. It didn't matter. He closed his hands around her hips and sat up, reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he slid the robe from her shoulders, watched as it fell around her in a puddle of shimmering light.

And then he was on his back again, her hands undoing the snap and zipper of his jeans. She slid them down his legs as her hand closed over his cock and stroked.

Heaven. Pure bliss. JP closed his eyes and let his head fall back, enjoying the sensation of the cool flesh of her hand wrapped around him. Long, hard strokes. Slow at first, then faster.

And then her mouth closed over him, taking him in. Hot. Wet. Hungry. He threaded his fingers through her silky hair, holding her in place as he thrust his cock into her mouth. He groaned, bit back a curse and rolled to the side. Emily's eyes opened, a look of surprise in their glazed depths. JP claimed her mouth, possessing, demanding.

Surrendering.

He slid the hem of the satin nightshirt up, swallowed her soft sigh as he stroked her clit. Harder, faster, her hips reaching. Searching. Her nails dug into his bare shoulders, her legs spreading as her hips thrust.

Once, twice.

Her body stiffened, her back arching against his touch a second before tremors shook her body. JP mentally cursed, moved away long enough to dig a condom from his wallet and sheath himself.

Then he stretched out on top of her, bracing his weight above her as he guided the tip of his cock to her entrance. Her lids fluttered open, her eyes meeting his as he thrust himself into her tight heat.

Burying himself.

Losing himself.

"Mine, Emilie. You are mine." She didn't understand the words, he knew that. Just as he knew it didn't matter, not when she looked at him that way.

He kissed her. Hard, then gentle. Pulled away as he rocked into her, his eyes capturing her gaze and holding it.

He didn't understand it. This pull, this connection. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. But he didn't question it, there was no need to question it.

"Mine, Emilie. We belong together." He kissed her again, swallowing her cries as they tumbled over the edge, lost in each other.