But Rose continued to pull him harder to her as she slung her legs tightly around him, digging her heels into his backside.
“Oh, God, Rose! You have to stop doing that or I’ll forget myself.”
She gave him a startled look. “You don’t like it? I’m not doing it right?”
When he noticed her retreat into herself, he stopped her. “No. No. You’re doing this too well. It’s better than I ever imagined. But if you continue like this, I won’t be able to pull out when it’s time.”
He wasn’t a cad. Taking her virginity was one thing, but risking leaving her with child while he wouldn’t come back for at least a year was unacceptable.
“When it’s time?” she whispered back, her forehead creasing.
“Before I spend.”
“Oh.”
Quinn pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, my Rose, my wife, my everything.”
Then he took her lips and allowed himself to forget everything except the woman in his arms. With more passion than before, with more determination and fervor, he kissed her, showing her that she belonged to him, that she would always be his. And her response was equally untamed.
Their bodies intertwined, they moved as one. The makeshift surroundings forgotten, the dire circumstances pushed to the background, Quinn allowed only one thought to remain: Rose was his. The woman he would love forever, the woman who would bear his children one day.
Her glistening skin sliding against him, her hands stroking his heated flesh, he felt as if he were in a dream, but this was real. Rose was in his arms, connected to him. She had accepted him, his love, his body. And she had given him her most prized possession: her virginity.
That thought made him plunge deeper and harder into her. The knowledge that she wanted him, despite the fact that he was a nobody, despite the fact that her future with him was uncertain, made his heart swell. She possessed his heart now, she owned him. Just as he was the keeper of her heart now.
“I love you, Quinn.”
At her words, his balls tightened, the fire in them threatening to incinerate him from the inside.
“Always!”
With a hard thrust, he drove into her again, then slid his hand between their bodies, searching and finding her sensitive pearl. He stroked his finger against the moist flesh.
“Once more, Rose, once more. Fly with me.”
When he felt her muscles spasm, squeezing his cock even tighter than she already was, he lost all coherent thought. Only pleasure mattered now. Release was all he could think of. Unable to hold onto his control, he let himself fall.
The burning in his balls signaled his imminent release. With a groan, he pulled from her sheath, too late to avoid spilling his seed over the insides of her thighs, rather than into the sheets. His heart was racing.
Rose was his wife now. His lover. His forever.
5
Quinn blinked. Before his eyes, everything was tinted red. Had he landed in hell? To tell the truth, he’d hoped for heaven, not that he’d gotten his hopes up too high. After all, he’d led a thoroughly debauched life, even though he’d never committed any violent crimes. Well, killing while defending one’s own life wasn’t considered a crime. If there was a god, then he hoped he—or she—would cut him some slack. After all, hadn’t he always donated to charities and taken care of orphans and other less fortunate people? Didn’t that count for anything?
“Thanks a lot!” he cursed and winced instantly.
His lip was split, and the taste of his own blood was in his mouth.
“What the . . . ?”
If he was dead, why was he injured and feeling pain? His head shot up, quickly assessing his surroundings.
“Shit, I’m alive!”
His gaze darted to his right. There, where the metal beam should have entered the car and decapitated him, another metal pole was wedged between it and the shattered car window. It had stopped the beam’s path. Where it had come from, Quinn wasn’t sure. Maybe it had been catapulted off the nearby stack of supplies when the crane had toppled.
Relieved, Quinn straightened, pushing away from the steering wheel and easing back into his seat. His hands made a quick assessment of his body: no major injuries. His heartbeat slowed somewhat. He’d escaped mostly intact. His vision was still blurry, though, and everything appeared with a red tint. Carefully, he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, then blinked a few times. The tint disappeared, only leaving a faint red at the edges of his vision.
Sighing, he looked past the nearly deflated airbag and through the blown-out windshield. His heart stopped and his stomach lurched. If vampires had any content in their stomachs, he would have lost it now.