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His hands swept down her body. Lingered on her hips.

“My beautiful Alessandra,” he whispered.

He bent his head and kissed her belly. His kisses trailed down her skin, lower, lower, until his face was against her thighs.

“Open for me,” he said.

She sobbed his name as he nuzzled against the soft golden curls at the apex of her thighs. He put his mouth to her. Touched his tongue to the delicate flower that awaited him within the sweet petals of her sex.

His head was spinning.

He knew women liked this. He’d always enjoyed doing it, but mostly for the pleasure it brought to a woman. This—this was different. Tasting Alessandra, inhaling her scent, caressing her this way…

He could feel his balls tightening, the pressure in his groin becoming almost unbearable. He was almost out of control with desire, except that in all his hard, disciplined adult life, he had never been out of control.

A cry rose from her throat. She buried her hands in his hair.

“Stop,” she said brokenly. “Tanner. I’m going to—I’m going to come. But not without you. Not without—”

He looked up. Saw her face, the sweep of crimson in her cheeks, the darkness of her eyes.

“I want you to come,” he said in a thick voice. “I want to see it happen. I want to see what it is I do to you.”

She said his name over and over as he did wicked, wonderful things to her with his tongue, his teeth, his fingers. He watched her. Saw her begin to tremble, saw her toss her head from side to side.

It almost drove him over the edge.

Hang on, he told himself, dammit, hang on.

She screamed. He felt the power of her orgasm as it swept her away, and the earth tilted.

“Now,” he growled and he pulled her into his arms and they tumbled back on the bed together. He rose above her, clasped her hands, raised them high over her head and entered her on one deep, driving thrust and she came again, weeping, sobbing, sobbing his name.

“Tanner,” she sobbed.

He let go, gave himself up to the whirlwind that had seized them both and as he exploded deep inside her, he leaned down and kissed her and whispered a word in the language of his people.

“Wastelakapi.

It meant beloved.

He had never said it before, not in his entire life.

CHAPTER TEN

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, Tanner on his back, Alessandra in the curve of his arm, her head on his strong shoulder and her hand spread over his heart.

Her sleep was deep and dreamless, but she came awake in a rush of adrenaline, bewildered by the strange surroundings.

The big bed that wasn’t hers.

The rain beating against the now unshuttered skylight overhead.

The sound of the wind, prowling outside the house.

Her heart raced.

And then it all came back.