LITMIR.BIZ

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And undressing.

      Not slowly and languidly to heighten the intensity by increments but wildly, feeding the fire, stoking the need until it was all-consuming, imprisoning both of them in its ring of flames.

      She remembered the feel of his mouth, his lips, his tongue. On her lips, her throat, her skin. Felt their hot imprint on her breasts, her belly.

      Everywhere.

      She felt the fireworks, the explosions as they rocked her, weakening her. Making her stronger. Bolder. What happened to her now was so much more intense, so much stronger than anything she could have possibly imagined.

      She wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream with joy. Above all else, she didn’t want this exhilarating experience to end.

      Ever.

      He’d never had a partner react the way she did. Had never felt the need to keep increasing a partner’s pleasure the way he desperately wanted to heighten hers. It was like unwrapping layer after layer of a gift only to find more layers waiting for him.

      Excitement coursed through his veins, and it was almost like making love for the first time. Not a first time with a new partner but for the very first time. Ever.

      Because of her reactions, her eagerness, the way she twisted into him, the way she caressed him, at first almost timidly, then eagerly and finally, wantonly, she made everything seem brand-new and fresh again.

      Made him want to do it all and see it through her eyes to increase his own pleasure even as he sought to cull hers.

      Eternity seemed nestled within each heartbeat. The more he did, the more he wanted to do. As incredible as it seemed to him in hindsight, he just could not get enough of her. She made him insatiable.

      But finally, unable to hold himself in check a second longer, Brandon knew it was time for the song that had been playing so wildly between them to reach its highest crescendo.

      Holding her hands above her head, lacing his fingers through hers, he joined their mouths together a moment before he began to move himself into her. He heard the small gasp that escaped her lips. Or rather, he tasted it.

      The resistance he met surprised him. It never occurred to him that she was—

      His eyes widened. But before he could draw back, before he could ask, she was wrapping her legs around his, pulling him in. Forcing him forward.

      He felt her cry as it emerged and then echoed between them. The next moment, she was moving her hips, enticing him.

      Sealing the last outstanding bond between them, they were now truly one.

      He began to move first slowly then, as she responded, more and more quickly until they were both breathlessly racing to an invisible goal line that was just beyond their reach.

      And then it wasn’t.

      It was theirs.

      His fingers tightened around hers just at the moment of release, and he could have sworn he heard her crying out his name.

      A shower of fireworks and glimmering stars rained over them, euphoria grasping both of them and clutching tightly before slowly releasing its hold by inches.

      He wanted to stay like this indefinitely, but he knew he couldn’t keep his weight off her for long, no matter how good his intentions were. Besides, he had to know if he was right.

      Pivoting on his elbows, Brandon drew back, separating their physical union but not their souls. One hand around her, he moved Isabelle closer to him.

      Slowly, his surroundings began to dawn on him. They were on the floor in her living room, clothes scattered on either side of them. The coffee table had gotten kicked to one side.

      He had no memory of that. No memory of anything, really, except for the hunger that had taken bites out of the pit of his stomach because he’d wanted her so much.

      “Isabelle?”

      Here it came, she thought, tensing. The question. Had he been greatly disappointed or only just a little?

      “Yes?” she murmured so quietly, he almost didn’t hear her.

      “Are you…” He had trouble forming the word, because with it came guilt. “A virgin?”

      “Not anymore.” She deliberately avoided his eyes, looking off to the side.

      “But you were.”

      “We all were at one point or other.”

      “Don’t play games with me.”

      She couldn’t remember ever hearing him sound this stern before. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

      The words he was about to say froze as he looked at her, utterly confused. “Sorry?” he echoed. “Why are you sorry?”

      “That I obviously disappointed you.”

      He drew himself up a little more, staring down at her incredulously. “Where did you get that idea?”

      “Then I didn’t disappoint you?” she asked, surprised.

      “No,” he said emphatically. “Of course not. But if you’d told me ahead of time, I would have gone slower, been more gentle….”

      “Not possible,” she answered. “You were perfect. And if I’d have told you, you wouldn’t have made love with me,” she pointed out. “Would you?”

      She had him there. But not for the reason she thought. “No, I wouldn’t have,” he admitted. “But only because a girl’s first time should be something special, with someone special.”

      Her eyes held his. “What makes you think it wasn’t?”

      He didn’t know how to answer that. How to share the warm feeling her words had just created within him. So he changed the subject. Sort of.

      Looking around, he observed, “I guess we never made it to the bedroom.”

      Relieved that he’d dropped the matter of her virginity, she smiled. “Guess not. Next time,” she said. The next moment, her own words replayed themselves in her head and she tried to backtrack. “I mean…”

      He saw the slight embarrassment, saw the splash of color coming into her cheeks. Why did that make her look so appealingly adorable? He didn’t even like the color pink.

      “Next time,” he echoed, coming to her rescue.

      He was rewarded with a grateful smile and knew he’d instinctively said the right thing.

      Pressing a kiss to her forehead, more tender than heated, he said, “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath and we can see about making this time the ‘next time.’”

      Amazed, she propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him. Everything she’d ever heard pointed to most men only being interested in one thing, and when it was over, they went on their way—or fell asleep.

      “Really?”

      He could only smile in response as the words “delightful” and “adorable” echoed in his head again.

      “Really,” he said, not a hundred percent sure what he’d just confirmed, knowing only that it seemed to make her happy, and he’d discovered that he enjoyed doing that. Enjoyed it a great deal.

      It had been a long time since he’d felt this free, this content. It came as a double surprise because he’d been convinced that his distrust of his own reactions would always mar the experience for him. He had Jean to thank for that.

      And now, for however long this lasted, he had Isabelle to thank for bringing him back from that numb, dark place.

       Chapter Twelve

      “You

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