"Soft." The word was barely more than a whisper of sound, just like his caress. He lowered his head, then, and kissed the skin he'd just bared. "Sweet." He licked out over her skin, making her shiver at the heat, the sensuality, between them. He lifted his head and looked her in the eye. "Mine."
When he crushed her mouth beneath his, she welcomed his savage passion. Took every ounce of his desire and gave him back just as much.
Until Smith, she had always held in her emotions. She had been certain that it was the only way to stay safe, the only way to protect herself from future pain. But with Smith, she'd never been able to hold herself back. Not when their chemistry was this extraordinary, this inevitable.
And not when she trusted him with every part of her heart.
Desire and joy were a wonderful jumble inside of her by the time he lifted his lips from hers.
She reached out to stroke his jaw, dark now with stubble from the long, beautiful day they'd had, then looked down at her still intact shirt. "Yours and ready for more unwrapping."
"All day," he said, "I've been fantasizing about what you're wearing beneath your clothes."
Her voice was husky as she told him, "I've been waiting all day for you to find out."
That was all it took for his control to snap. No longer able to go slow and tease them both with heady anticipation, he gripped the open edges of her shirt and tore them apart, both the fabric and the leather shredding.
"You're a goddess, Valentina."
She felt her skin flush even hotter than it already was, simply from the burn in his eyes as he looked at her. She'd always had a weakness for beautiful lingerie. Which fit perfectly with Smith's weakness for buying it for her--the softest silk, the finest lace.
But she'd bought this set herself, knowing she would wear it on her wedding night, hoping that Smith would look at her just the way he was now. With awe. With wonder.
And with such hunger that her knees felt as though they'd turned to Jell-O.
He still hadn't reached for her, was simply staring as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Where did you find this?"
She took his hands in hers, lifting them to the center of her chest, where her heart was beating out a wild rhythm. "Italy. In the town next to the one where your mother was born. She told me about an old friend of hers, a seamstress who specializes in lace and silk. She promised me it would be the most beautiful thing I'd ever have against my skin. But she was wrong." His eyes lifted with surprise to hers, and a moment later she said, "You are."
At last, his hands came alive with a gentle caress over the cream-colored fabric that had literally been sewn onto her body as she'd stood in the seamstress's twelfth-century workroom months earlier.
All day, as she'd felt it brushing against her curves, she'd imagined it was Smith's hands instead. So clearly that she'd driven herself half-mad with longing during the long wait through the wedding and reception and the flight to Maine. Waiting for precisely this moment when he finally saw her lace and silk gift-wrapping.
And stripped it away.
His strong hands trembled as he moved his thumbs beneath the whisper-thin silk straps over her shoulders. She held her breath as he slowly slid them off. The swells of her breasts rose higher beneath the sheer lace that--just barely now--still covered her. Her heart was pounding hard enough that she wondered if Smith could see it flutter just beneath the surface of her skin.
He lowered his mouth to her again, first to one bared shoulder, and then the other, before he found her beating pulse with a kiss that was so reverent, so loving, she had to reach out for his forearms to keep herself upright.
Lifting his head, he traced the fine line where lace met skin once, then twice, until she was making little pleading sounds that could have only one meaning. More. She wanted him to take more of her. To take all of her.
And then--finally--he undid the fine thread of silk that held the lace together. As the silk thread slid apart, the beautiful bra fell away.
Smith didn't say a word, but he didn't have to because his mouth, his hands were already saying everything Valentina longed to hear. His tongue teased, his fingers tantalized. Even the scrape of dark stubble on his chin across her aroused skin was almost more sensation than she could bear. She arched into him, gave herself completely over to soul-deep pleasure.
Again and again, he laved her breasts, first one and then the other, until the arousal rolling through her was so intense that she literally couldn't stay on her feet.
He lifted her in his arms, his mouth devouring hers as he strode out of the living room, past the kitchen, and down the hall. The next thing she knew, she was on the bed and he was moving over her. He looked savage, his control hanging by only the barest thread.
She nearly wept with joy when he all but tore her shoes and jeans from her. Only to stop for a few breathless moments so that he could marvel at the gorgeous panties that covered her hips, a match to the lace and silk of the hand-sewn bra.
"Beautiful."
Despite his desperation, he was careful not to tear the delicate fabric as he slid it down her thighs. And then, she was bared to him. Completely open to his gaze. To his touch. To him.
"So damned beautiful."
He was seemingly everywhere at once. At her breasts, between her thighs, at her mouth. With his muscular body over hers, pressing her deeper into the mattress, he kissed and licked and laved and caressed.
Hours of anticipation since their ceremony had stolen what little control she had, so when he stroked his fingers inside of her at the same moment that his lips closed over the taut tip of her breast, she shattered. Breaking into a million beautiful pieces with the man she had vowed to love forever.
A promise she'd made to him long before she'd worn a wedding gown and spoken the words aloud in front of their friends and family.
CHAPTER THREE
Smith had planned a slow seduction on their wedding night. He'd wanted to spin Valentina so high with pleasure--up and up and up and up--that by the time he claimed her with his body, she would be utterly consumed by the force of her need, her desire.
But he was a fool. Because going slow would mean that he was in control. And the truth was that he'd never had an ounce of self-control around her--less now that she was his wife than ever before.
Again and again, as he'd run kisses over her body, he kept flashing back to seeing her walk down the aisle toward him earlier that day in her elegant wedding dress. The sun had shone through her veil, the breeze lifting it to tease him with glimpses of her stunning face, her expression alight with the same joy as his, her cheeks wet with tears, just as his were.
Valentina had been luminous. Breathtakingly beautiful.
His.
Their vows had cemented the promises they'd made to each other already. Love. Devotion. Unconditional support. And beneath everything they'd spoken aloud in front of friends and family had been this.
This passion.
This desire.
This longing to be as close as they possibly could to one another.
For their arms and legs to tangle, their mouths to devour. For her pleasure to become his, and his to be hers.
Valentina was officially a Sullivan now. And Smith had never been happier in his life.
He needed to show her with more than words just what she meant to him. That she was more precious than anyone, anything else, could ever be.
He found her lips again with his, his kiss both rough and sweet, desire and love perfectly blended. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, and he loved how sensual she was in their private darkness, especially in contrast to what she let the rest of the world see. There was nothing he liked more than tangling her hair with his hands while they made love, to see it spread out across a pillow, her skin flushed with need, her mouth swollen from his kisses.
But he wasn't the only one who craved. Because as they kissed, she reached for his shirt, and with one fierce tug on cotton, she tore it open.
&nbs
p; "Smith." He could hear the lingering pleasure from her climax in her voice, along with obvious impatience. "I need you. Now."
"You have me. You always have."
Again they kissed, wild and desperate for each other, need shooting through his veins. The need to possess and be possessed. The need to claim and be claimed. The need to love each other face to face, chest to chest, hips to hips, as deeply connected as a man and woman could possibly be.
He helped her shove the rest of his clothes off. Once there was nothing left between them, he levered above her on his forearms and stared. Marveled at the most beautiful woman in the world lying beneath him.
His ring on her finger. Her ring on his.
"I love you."
Her mouth lifted at the corners, her smile lifting his heart as she said, "I love you too. So much, Smith. More than you'll ever know."
"I do know," he said as he gathered her in his arms and she put her arms and legs around him. "I know how much you love me, because I love you exactly the same way."
His final word was barely out when they both moved together, Valentina opening to him at the same moment he thrust deep.
"Valentina." Her name was a vow, a blessing, a dream, as her heat, her arousal, surrounded him. Made it so that he couldn't think, could barely breathe, could only lose himself inside of her.
With her hands, her legs, her hips, her words, she urged him to take her. Harder. Faster. Wilder.
Every time they made love he was amazed by the sparks, the heat, the power they created between them. But no bliss, no ecstasy, had ever come close to this moment when he looked into her eyes and found her staring into his just as deeply, just as intensely.
Smith knew he'd never forget this evening--the way Valentina looked, smelled, sounded, tasted, felt. The way she gave every last part of herself over to him with total trust. And with joy.
Utterly lost in each other, the next wave of pleasure--bigger than any he'd ever felt before--lifted them high, sweeping them up in sensations so good, so true, that they had to cling to each other just to hold on. Had to try to pull oxygen from each other's lungs in something that was far beyond a kiss.
For long minutes after, they lay wrapped around each other working to catch their breath. Finally, she laughed, and when he lifted his head from her shoulder to look into her bright eyes, she said, "It's always been amazing, but never like that."
He couldn't help the proud grin that took over his face. What guy could, when told he'd just fully and completely rocked his wife's world, even beyond what she'd thought was possible?
"We've just had the perfect beginning to what's going to be a perfect week," he told her. "No one will ever think to look for us here. Which means we have seven straight days to do that again and again and again."
"Sounds like the perfect honeymoon to me," she agreed.
He would happily have started all over again, but he couldn't miss the faint smudges beneath her eyes. Her yawn, one that seemed to surprise her, cemented his decision.
"Stay right where you are. I'll put together a tray of food to eat in bed, and then we're going to get some rest." His grin was wicked, as was the stroke of his hand over her curves. "Believe me, you're going to need to be well fed and rested for what I have planned for you."
"I can't wait," she said, even as she settled more deeply into the pillows, her eyes already fluttering closed.
Smith wasn't surprised to find her asleep by the time he came back in with the open bottle of wine, some crackers, cheese, and cold cuts. A midnight snack would be waiting if she woke, but for now all he wanted was to climb beneath the covers, pull her into his arms, and sleep together for the very first time as husband and wife.
CHAPTER FOUR
Valentina woke warm and cozy in Smith's arms, his front to her back like a spoon, the sound of rain pattering on the roof. She was utterly content, needing nothing more than this.
As a young girl, she'd believed she'd find a love like the one her parents had. Strong. True. But then, after her father died when she was twenty-two and her mother had gone off the rails by hooking up with one smarmy actor after another, Valentina had stopped believing. She'd gone into protective warrior mode to take care of her sister, Tatiana, and herself.
Valentina had never expected a man like Smith to come along. She'd sworn never to lose her heart to an actor, yet he was unlike any she'd ever met. He'd been gentle enough to soothe her. Strong enough to topple the walls she'd built up around herself. And steady enough not to give up when anyone else would have.
Love overflowed as she brought the arm he'd slung over her waist close to her heart. She felt him stir, felt his warm breath on her neck as he pressed a kiss to her nape.
She opened her mouth to say good morning, but the press of one strong thigh between hers stole her breath away and made it impossible to speak. He was rock hard behind her, from the muscles of his chest, abs, hips, and legs...to the erection that made her instantly grow damp and hot with need.
He lifted their linked hands over her shoulder so that he could kiss her knuckles, and then he let her hand go so that he could play over her skin with the flat of his palm.
As he stroked her, lingering at the swells of her breasts before brushing over her waist and then flaring out to her hips, she felt every inch a sensual woman. A naughty one who wanted nothing more than to be taken by her lover.
Her husband.
She turned her face to his and kissed him with all of the love in her heart. Just as their lips met, he slid his hand from her hip to the throbbing vee between her legs. On a moan against his mouth, she rolled her hips up into his touch. The gorgeous slide of his fingers over her. Into her.
She was already close, could have leaped off the edge into bliss with nothing more than the press of his talented fingers over her arousal, his lips against hers. But she wanted more.
She wanted everything.
There was something so sweet--and yet so wonderfully naughty--about their early-morning lovemaking. Beneath the sheets, they were warm and cozy...and deliciously wicked too.
Oh yes, wicked was exactly the way she wanted to begin their first morning together as husband and wife. All it took was one small shift of her hips for Smith's erection to slide against her slick heat. Another roll of her hips to have him groaning his pleasure against her hair.
The next thing she knew, he was thrusting deep as the lazy morning gave way to lust, to the best kind of greed. She arched back harder into him even as he gripped her hips to pull her more tightly to him with each stroke.
How had she lived without Smith for as long as she had?
But the answer didn't matter. All that mattered was that they had each other now.
"Valentina." Her name was muffled against her hair and by the raw need in his voice. "I love you. So damned much."
She would have said it back. Would have shouted the three little words from the rafters. But before she could so much as part her lips, her climax--and Smith's--shot through her, beauty and bliss and world-rocking ecstasy taking her over from head to toe. Their mouths found each other over her shoulder again as they continued to climb higher and higher, long after they'd jumped together from the peak.
*
"I have a gift for you," Valentina said.
Smith never wanted to let her go. Especially not when her naked limbs were wrapped around his, her skin warm and flushed from their lovemaking. But when she looked at him like this, with a wide, almost impish smile, he couldn't deny her anything. Heck, regardless of her expression, he'd always move the sun, the stars, and the moon to give her everything she desired.
"You've already given me the best gift I could ever ask for," he replied. When she raised her eyebrows, he laughed, pulling her back in for another kiss. "Making love with you is always a mind-blowingly good gift. But I'm talking about this." He held up her left hand and ran his fingertip over the bands on her ring finger. "And especially this." He moved his hand to her heart. "I don't need anyt
hing else. Only you."
Her mouth was warm and soft against his. "Maybe just one more thing," she said with a grin as she moved, naked and stunningly gorgeous, from the bed. "It's in my suitcase." Which they'd never gotten around to bringing into the bedroom from the living room, given that they'd been too busy tearing off each other's clothes.
Cassie had left them new his-and-hers robes to wear--he really was going to have to find an appropriately extravagant way to thank his cousin for doing all of this for them--and Valentina threw him his, then slipped hers on. Biting back a sigh at having her cover up all that lovely skin, he got out of bed and put on his robe as well.
His cousin had also left a pre-programmed coffee maker, which currently had a full, steaming pot waiting for them. While he poured them both a cup, Valentina unzipped her suitcase.
"It looks like I wasn't the only one with an extra gift." She lifted out two wrapped boxes, one small, one large. "My mother and sister must have slipped these into my bag during the reception. How about we open Tatiana's first? Do you want to do the honors?"
He brought over her mug, handing it to her when she gave him the present. Tatiana was not only one of Smith's most talented co-stars, she was also engaged to his cousin Ian, a Seattle-based billionaire. Valentina had a great relationship with her sister, but things were more complicated between her and their mother. Fortunately, during the past couple of years, the two of them had grown closer.
Judging by the size of the present and the sound it made when he shook it slightly, he had a pretty good idea of what was inside. By the smile playing on Valentina's face, he figured she did too.
Just as he'd expected, beneath the wrapping was a puzzle--something he and Valentina had loved doing together since the beginning of their relationship. But what had a surprised gasp sounding from her lips was the photo that the puzzle had been made from.
The night before their surprise wedding at Summer Lake--barely twenty-four hours ago--they'd gathered everyone in the family together for a photo. Sullivans from around the world made quite a large and unruly group, he thought with a grin as he looked at his brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, and all the little kids crammed in together so that they'd fit into the wide-angle frame.