She lifted her brows.
‘I don’t want to think, don’t want to talk. I just want to be with you. I just want you.’
Oh, God, she couldn’t cope with his flip-flopping treatment of her. He’d gone so cold this morning and now here he was so hot for her again. She ought to be angry. She ought to be demanding to know what the hell was going on.
But there was something new in his expression—both in his face and his voice. A rawness. Almost, she thought crazily, a kind of hurt. But Seb wasn’t hurt by all this. Seb didn’t feel this that deeply—did he? This was just another hot fling for him, right?
She looked at him again—really looked at him. As deeply into his eyes as he was hers. And what she saw there made her gasp.
‘Yes,’ he growled. Intense as he pressed his weight onto hers again. ‘Yes.’
There was no rest, no let-up from his touch. He built her up again and then again. So focused on her pleasure. His hands shaking as he touched every inch of her with such tenderness. But it was that look in his eyes that made her shake inside and out.
‘Shh.’ He kissed her quiet. ‘Let me. Just let me.’
Let him what? Make love to her like this?
For there was no other way to describe what he was doing. This wasn’t sex. This wasn’t lust. This was something far deeper, far stronger, far more significant than that.
And could she trust it? The instinct telling her how serious this was? That Seb was serious about her? His fingers threaded into her hair and he turned her face towards him once more.
‘You should have everything, Ana. You deserve everything. I want you to have everything.’
With his words something deep inside her shifted—that hurt was soothed, and for the first time in years her heart felt secure.
Seb kissed her, stroked her, made love to her again. Watched with fierce pleasure as she arched and shattered and he told her the truth. ‘You’re so beautiful.’
She sighed, limbs settling, relaxing into his after her pleasure had spiked. ‘You really know how to make a woman feel good, Seb.’
He froze. If there was ever a time to regret his old playboy ways that was it—that one little comment shattered his most secret dream.
Did she put it down to experience—think it was just the cheap line he spun to any woman warming his bed? Was this still only an affair for her? Suddenly insecurity reared within him.
He leaned over her, looking into her face to catch every nuance. ‘If I hadn’t have made that comment, on Mnemba—’ he paused, watching her close ‘—would you ever have told me?’
Would she ever have trusted him? Would she ever have shared that loss with him? Would she ever have chosen to turn to him for comfort?
He watched as she froze. His heart dropped as her gaze lowered. And he knew her answer before she gave it—no.
Her lashes suddenly swooped up and she looked back at him. ‘Would you ever have wanted me to? Honestly?’
‘Yes,’ he answered. Meaning it more than he’d ever meant anything.
But her lashes dropped again, hiding her reaction. So he knew. She still didn’t believe him.
And how did he do it? He’d been trained in the art of convincing, in proving, in making his case and winning arguments. But he seemed to have no possible hope here. How could he convince her? How to reassure her? What on earth could he do to make her believe in him? Words were not enough for Ana—that he did know. It needed to be actions—something he could do to shatter the walls she’d built around the very core of her heart, stopping him from getting all the way in there.
He desperately longed to say sorry. But he couldn’t even do that, could he? She’d accuse him of sympathy sex again. So he pulled her close, worshipped her with his body, tried to show her that he did care.
But early in the morning he dragged himself away from her warmth. ‘You sleep in.’
He’d buried deep into her so many times during the night and spent the remaining time awake and alternately angry and despondent. The last thing he wanted to do was leave now but he had no choice. Besides, he had an obligation. He needed to be there to talk to his mother. It would be better for her to find out from him than anyone else. And the thought of the hurt she’d been through reinforced his decision to leave Ana. She needed to be with someone who could give her everything she wanted—and that person was not him.
He showered, turned the water cold to try to jolt his muscles into action. But when dressed he stood at the foot of his bed and looked at the beautiful long length quietly dozing. That fierce yearning swept over him. She was so warm and soft and he wanted to hold her close and sleep. But she deserved more, so much more than the little he could guarantee. As he’d told her last night, he wanted her to have everything.