“Let go, farfallina mia. Let yourself fly with me.”

She was used to that dark velvet voice. She knew his strength and power. She knew he would catch her. Breathing deeply, she let go. The ripples gathered in force until the sensations were giant swells. Thunder pounded in her ears. Her blood rushed hot and wild through her veins. Flames kissed her skin. Her body clamped down on his shaft, squeezing and milking, taking him with her. His arms tightened around her as she felt herself flung out into the stars, whirling around and floating, soaring, flying high with him. With Ricco. A shocked cry escaped and she heard Ricco’s hoarse chant as he emptied himself into her. Then he collapsed over top of her and she took his full weight.

She stayed very still, afraid if she moved she would lose that feeling of euphoria. She stroked her fingers through his dark, thick hair, breathing shallowly, determined that she really didn’t need air to breathe, she only needed to hold on to him. He groaned and pushed up slightly.

“That was beautiful. Wild.” He brushed her eyelids with kisses. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, not wanting to speak at all, not wanting the moment to end. Her heart had begun to settle, the roaring in her ears subsiding. Her body still felt as if it were floating, but now she no longer felt connected to him. She honestly didn’t know if she was withdrawing, or if it was Ricco, but she forced a smile. He frowned and withdrew, his heavy cock sliding over the sensitive bundle of nerves, triggering another orgasm.

She gasped and rolled, turning on her side, so she could draw up her knees.

“I’ll be right back, Mariko.” He knotted the condom and moved off to the bathroom.

She lay there, still a little dazed, but panic had set in. Heart pounding, she sat up, looking wildly around. He’d made it clear he didn’t hold women all night or have them in his bed. What was she supposed to do? She should have asked before she’d gone to his room. It would have been so much smarter to go to her room and then he’d have to leave, not her. She had no clothes. Her robe was in the studio.

There was only one thing to do. A shadow. She had to get into a shadow and find a way out of his room before he came back from the bathroom. Her first inclination was to grab the sheet and cover up, but the sheet wouldn’t go into the tube with her, as the specially made clothes for the riders did. She flung it aside and leapt to her feet.

She felt him on her skin. Inside her. Everywhere. He was branded deep in her body, but more – and she’d known it would happen – he was there forever in her heart. She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped into the nearest shadow that was thrown toward the door. It led right under it, except she was forced out of the tube right at the door itself. Nothing got under there. She’d run into that before when she’d first gotten there and wanted to explore his room.

What did people do? She reached for the doorknob, feeling foolish. He hadn’t locked her in. He didn’t keep women, he discarded them immediately. She wasn’t about to be the awkward situation in his home he couldn’t get rid of.

“Whoa. Stop, Mariko. Where are you going?” He reached around her, his hand above her head, preventing the door from opening. “What’s wrong, farfallina?”

She went very still, wishing she knew how to disappear. It used to work when she was a child, but Ricco saw her no matter what – and he was so close. His body pressed right up against hers. She could feel every inch of him, all man, all muscle, against her back and bottom. His cock, the moment he came into contact with her, skin to skin, went from semihard to just plain hard.

His finger slid down the nape of her neck. His breath was warm, stirring the thick mane of hair falling around her shoulders. “Amore. Where are you going?”

“Back to my room.” She said it to the door. That thick, heavy door with something stopping shadows from sliding underneath.

“Why?” His hand moved her hair so that he could trail kisses down the nape of her neck, following the path his finger had taken. His hands slid up and down her arms, warming her when she shivered.

She was shivering, not because she was cold, but because she couldn’t resist his touch and she wanted – needed – to be strong.

“I know you don’t like women in your bed, Ricco. I’m not going to make this difficult. You saved me from having to have an arranged marriage with Kichiro and I appreciate it. I really do.” She stayed still, facing the door, feeling him breathe. Feeling as if they still wore the same skin. His hands never stopped moving, caressing her arms, up and down, his breath on the nape of her neck, lips so close she felt them pressed into her neck.

He remained silent, giving her time to pull her scattered thoughts around her like a cloak. “A good shadow rider never goes after someone until he or she is totally convinced beyond any doubt that the person deserves justice. I had to research you. Thoroughly. You aren’t a man ever to be satisfied with one woman. That doesn’t make you a bad person, but you’re not husband material. I won’t be that woman in your bed that you wake up resenting.”

She was so proud of her voice. She kept it even. Low. Nonjudgmental. Most of all, the bone-deep sorrow she felt wasn’t there. Not even a hint of it.

Ricco groaned and pressed his face between her shoulder blades, his arms circling her under her breasts, holding her tightly so she was more a prisoner than she had been in the ropes. There was a moment of sheer panic, and then she felt his distress. His breathing had changed subtly, but it had. His heartbeat had accelerated.

“I’m honestly not trying to hurt you. I want you to know you’re off the hook. I’m not expecting marriage and fidelity just because we had sex. I knew what I was doing and made the decision myself. I wanted to be with you. I wanted you to be the one I chose, not the council. Not the riders. You were my choice, and I’m all grown up, Ricco. You have no responsibility toward me at all. As soon as we can, we’ll announce that the engagement didn’t work out.”

There. She’d absolved him. Every man would like that, right? He had to let go of her before he noticed her trembling. Her reaction to him. The sorrow eating away at her at the loss of her silly dream. She knew better than to dream. Or to hope. Or to want or wish for something. Especially something as big and real as Ricco Ferraro. A good man. The man who had managed to penetrate her heart. He was there for good. But she wasn’t a silly schoolgirl. She knew the difference between husband material and a man who would be miserable with one woman. His mother had it right.

“Are you finished?” he asked softly.

Fingers of desire danced down her spine. His lips were against her skin, speaking there so she felt every word formed. His hold on her hadn’t loosened at all.

“Yes.” She could barely get the word out.

“Then come back to bed.”

She couldn’t. If she went back there with him and he seduced her all over again, she’d be so lost she would agree to anything, and she knew she’d regret it. Self-respect was the only thing she had left to her. She shook her head because she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t actually tell him no. She wanted to go back to bed with him, but pride wouldn’t allow it. Pride and self-preservation.