Words evaporated into nothingness, and the reality that time was short, their destination imminent, became insignificant next to the relentless need pulsating through them.
Rem was ruthless in his seduction, driven by demons he didn't recognize and an emptiness he could no longer face. He unfastened the buttons of her gown, kissing each inch of skin he bared, worshiping the upper slope of her breasts with his mouth.
It wasn't enough ... for either of them.
With one harsh tug, Rem pulled her bodice lower, freeing her breasts to his gaze, his touch. With burning eyes, he watched her nipples tighten, until, when he could bear no more, he slid his arm beneath her waist and lifted her to him, lowering his mouth to the beckoning peaks and taking what Sammy so willingly, wholeheartedly, offered.
Nothing had ever tasted this sweet. The untainted beauty of Samantha's body, the natural sensuality of her response, stoked the flames coursing through Rem's blood. He didn't eve a damn if the whole world disintegrated around them. He wanted Samantha. Here. Now. This instant. With every fiber of his being.
Damn Anders to hell. Damn any man who tried to claim her. She was his—his—and he needed to brand her so completely that there would never be any doubt of that fact.
His fingers glided up her leg, beneath her gown, over the silk of her stocking. She was trembling; so was he. The carriage jostled, and his hand slid farther up the soft contour of her thigh. "I've got to touch you," he muttered against her breast. "I've . . . got. . . to."
Sammy's fingers sifted restlessly through his hair, holding him to her. "Yes ... that feels so ... oh, Remington." She caught her breath as his fingers neared their mark, teasing the sensitive curve where her thigh ended.
"Let me ..."
"Yes. . ."
"I've got to ..."
"Yes."
"Samantha ..." His most intimate caress followed on the heels of her name, causing her breath to erupt in a harsh sound of pleasure.
"Oh, Rem ..."
"God ..." Rem closed his eyes, tenderly claiming the warm wetness that belonged to him ... only him. Slowly, gently, he entered her with one finger, groaning aloud at the tight, clinging resistance that greeted his touch. "You're perfect," he told her huskily. "Perfect."
"Kiss me," she managed, quivering from head to toe. "Please..."
He covered her mouth with his, taking her with deep, lusty strokes of his tongue, his finger moving tantalizingly in and out, in a rhythm that made them both wild.
"I want to be inside you," he rasped against her parted lips. "God, I've got to be inside you."
"Remington ... what's happening?" Sammy choked out, her body tightening, crying out for some unknown release.
"It's all right, sweetheart. Let it happen," he replied, determinedly mastering his own body's urgent need. "Let me give this to you...."
The carriage jolted to a halt.
"Remington ... please ... don't stop," she pleaded.
"I won't. I won't." He didn't give a damn where they were.
"My lady?" Cynthia's purposeful voice penetrated the privacy of the carriage walls. "Is that you?"
Sammy's eyes flew open, filled with fear and smoky passion and unfulfilled need. "Oh ... I..."
Rem wanted to choke Cynthia with his bare hands. "Dammit. Dammit to hell." He gritted his teeth, simultaneously striving to bring his own body under control and to soothe the panicked, heightened sensations of Sammy's. "God I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingers still damp with her response. "Samantha, I..." He didn't know what to say. Maybe there was nothing he could say. "It's all right, sweetheart." Swiftly, he hauled himself upright, tugging up her bodice and smoothing her gown. "No one will know."
Her expression tore at his heart. "I don't care who knows. I feel so ... I ache."
"I know you do, love. So do I."
That seemed to surprise, and distract, her. "You do?"
He chuckled, despite the screaming need for release that tore at his loins. "More than you could ever imagine." He stroked her hot cheek with his knuckles. "I'll explain to you another time ... when we finish what we just began."