She shook her head. ‘I didn’t, it wasn’t—’
‘You did, and it was,’ he contradicted fiercely. ‘But don’t worry—I’m glad. You showed me who you really are. What you really value. And you also reminded me of something I already knew but somehow, had let myself forget.’
She stared up at him, blinking quickly.
‘I don’t like people,’ he said, and then, he reached out and put his hands on her hips, pulling her to him, so his cock nestled against the fabric of her pants, but his chest was hard to her soft, rounded breasts. ‘I particularly don’t like rich people.’ His lip lifted in a cynical smile, as he saw the way her eyes shifted, the inner battle she was waging between her mind’s indignation and her body’s needs.
‘You’re rich,’ she pointed out, voice trembly.
‘No, I have money. It’s not the same thing. You were born rich, and you have the prejudices to prove it.’
‘I hate you,’ she whispered, and in that moment, he knew she really did mean it.
‘Yes, but you still want me.’
She looked away from him, her breath held, her chin angled in a pose of pure defiance, before she glared up at him, her eyes practically fulminating with rage. ‘Yes,’ she said, finally. ‘I do.’
It was hardly the plea he’d been hoping for and yet, it was enough. It was more than enough. It was still a concession for her, that no matter what she might think of him, desire was ravaging her as it was him. He could only wish he wasn’t stuck in the same metaphorical boat.
‘But you want me, too,’ she said, with a hint of angry resentment.
He stared down at her, admiration shifting in his chest. ‘Do you need to hear me say it, Annie?’
She bit into her lip, a lip he was desperate to taste for himself, and nodded once, but her eyes were awash with uncertainty.
‘I have no problem admitting that I want you.’ He leaned closer, his voice brushing her ear. ‘I am not a coward.’
‘Do you really think that?’ she asked, lifting one of her small hands and pressing it to his shoulder, like she was trying to physically shake him.
‘I did, Annie. But coming to me for help was brave. Marrying me was braver still.’
Her eyes flicked to his, and she opened her mouth to say something, but he forestalled it.
‘Then again, we both know there’s no limit to what you’d do to keep your daddy happy.’
Her eyes shut as his words hit their mark—and he wished, almost more than he’d ever wished for anything, that he could take them back.
‘Just shut up and fuck me,’ she whispered then, blinking her gaze open and letting it land on his. And then, the word he thought he’d wanted and quickly came to despise, fell from her mouth: ‘Please.’
He blotted out the horrible feeling spreading through him, ignoring anything but this. Later, he’d work out why he felt like a part of him was being torn to shreds. For now, he just wanted toexperience this woman—this pleasure he’d denied himself, the whole time they’d dated.
‘Good, Annie,’ he murmured, lifting her higher in the water, and he kissed her as he wrapped her legs around his waist, supporting her weight, his hard body seeking her, needing her, so he broke the kiss only long enough to say, ‘Are you on the pill?’
She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted. ‘Yes.’
‘Thank Christ,’ he groaned, nudging aside her briefs and then saying, for good measure, ‘I’m clean. I presume—’
‘Of course,’ she said, and then, she hesitated, so he waited, though it was an agony not to plunge into her. He still waited, for her to say whatever she was thinking. She stared down at him and then, on a sob, repeated those awful words, ‘Please, Theo, please.’
He drove into her with all the desperate, angry, years-old need that had been tormenting him right to his core. It was not gentle, and it was not soft, it was the act of a man driven by passion, who felt that answering need from his would-be lover.
But the second he thrust into her and she cried out, not in pleasure, but from pain and discomfort, and her face contorted, he connected her tightness with the cause of it and swore, staring at her face, his body buried too deep in her to move, to take it back. Anger though was firing through him, along with a sense of confusion.
‘What the hell?’
She glared at him.
‘You were—are you a virgin?’