In a second, he’d picked her up and was carrying her back to his room. She barely noticed however, as his lips claimed hers again. Nor did she notice as the rest of her buttons came undone and her dress pooled upon the floor.
With a yank, the stings of her corset came untied. She started then but Matt, grasping her back, lay her on the bed and began unlacing her boots and unrolling her stockings. Soon, she sat in nothing but her chemise, as he stripped off his shirt.
The loss of his heat and hands momentarily cleared her thoughts. Should she really be doing this? While he’d promised not to be too over protective, he’d also demanded she be extra safe. That frightened her and once they spent the night together, that was it. There was no going back.
As he pealed his shirt off, the hard ridges of his muscles met her gaze and she forgot to breathe, let alone think. He climbed back up her body in that predatory fashion she’d noticed in his movements before. It was masculine and sexy and a little frightening. In this moment, he was like the tide and she was powerless to stop his progress.
Leaning down over her, the muscles in his arms flexing, he kissed her again, his body a breath above hers. Her heart fluttered like a bird’s wings in her chest.
As his weight settled on her, his hand slid her chemise up around her thighs and then, fingers stroking along her flesh, he brought them between her legs. She moaned, straining to deepen the light touch. It was delicious and wicked and so very right.
“You’re mine, Bridget. From this moment on we are one.”
Should she be concerned? Her brain was too addled to make sense of it and her body was on fire. She wanted more. He parted her lips and then gently pushed a finger inside her. Need and satisfaction made them both groan. “Yes.” She dug his fingers into his back as she arched her hips toward him.
“So silky,” he groaned. “So tight.”
Then he was gone. Her eyes, which she hadn’t even realized had closed, flew open. He was standing between her legs as he unbuttoned and then dropped his breeches.
Her mouth went dry. He was stunning, and honestly, the size of his manhood, a bit frightening.
He stared down at her and then his hands grasped the hem of her chem
ise. “Your turn,” he rumbled deep in his chest as he started raising up the fabric. She forgot to be frightened as his hands skimmed along her skin and instead she shivered, anticipation making her reach for him.
Clasping around his neck, she tried to bring him against her once again. He gave a deep chuckle. “Patience, sweetheart.” Then he pulled her to sitting as he brushed her fingers away and pulled the chemise over her head. A wave of shyness washed over her and she attempted to cover herself but he reached for her hands and put them back around his neck. “You’re stunning, love.” Then his lips captured hers.
The feel of skin against skin made her entire body ache and she rubbed against him, wanting more. As she did, the tip of his man hood slipped between her folds.
He sucked in his breath. “Bridget,” he said between clenched teeth. “I am trying to go slow for your sake.”
She didn’t want slow. She wanted him. But as he moved deeper inside her, she began to stretch and burn. She drew in a sharp breath. “Relax, my love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you.” His voice soothed her and in a moment, he was fully seated. He held then, allowing her to adjust, kissing her and murmuring words of encouragement until she relaxed, kissing him back. Then he started to move. Slowly. To her complete surprise, it didn’t hurt, instead, pleasure rocked through her.
Again and again, he moved and as the pleasure built, she held onto him like, well, like a port in a storm. Finally, the wave of pleasure broke over her and she cried out, gripping his back. He groaned and spasmed above her. As his lips found hers he gave her a long slow kiss. “I’ll take care of you always.”
It was a comforting thought and she fell asleep, feeling safe and warm in his arms. But her last thought was darker and she twitched against him. While safe and warm were lovely, she may have, in fact been caged.
* * *
Bridget fell asleep in his arms almost immediately. Couldn’t say that he blamed her.
Her brown hair tumbled across his pillow, its silky locks tickling his shoulder.
One arm was thrown above her head, while the other still held his hand. A lovely pale pink nipple peaked out from where the covers trailed away. He wanted to kiss that sweet flesh but he’d wait for another time. He didn’t want to wake her then.
It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Short dalliances that had been about physical satiation. He was unprepared for the onslaught of emotion that had hit him tonight.
One because being with her had been everything he’d dreamed it could be. She was innocence and seduction wrapped in a gloriously beautiful package. She was strong and determined in a way that made his blood heat but also called to his protective side. He didn’t want the world crushing that part of her.
His mouth pulled into a thin line. He was the real danger to her spirit. She’d been right to stomp away. He did want to wrap her in a protective bubble, and not just for her sake. He didn’t want to suffer another loss. As he trailed a finger through a silky lock of hair. Could he control himself?
He grimaced as the lock of hair fell back cross his arm. He wasn’t sure that he could.
Chapter Thirteen
Bridget woke to the feel of a sold wall of flesh pressed against her side. She drew in a long breath and then let out a sigh. She’d never been more comfortable.
He began kissing up her shoulder, his lips tickling at her skin as his hand trailed along her bare flesh. “Good morning, sweetheart.”