"Stacie…" Damen's fingers were already dispensing with the buttons of her gown. "I didn't intend…"
"I know." She stood on tiptoe, kissed the strong column of his throat as she untied his cravat. "Neither of us did. But it's so right." She sighed, opening his shirt and pressing her lips to his chest. "Don't leave me—not now."
"Leave you?" He gave a hoarse laugh, dragging her gown off her shoulders, letting it drop to her feet. "There's not a prayer of that. I'll never leave you. Not now. Not ever."
His mouth found hers, covering it, his lips parting hers with a hunger that was too powerful to stave off with light, teasing kisses. He grasped handfuls of her hair, angling her face closer to his, possessing her with his tongue, his breath, devouring her mouth totally, voraciously—again and again. Anastasia moaned, leaning into him to give him better access, clutching at his shirt and returning his hot, open-mouthed kisses with her own. Their tongues intertwined, melded and caressed with dizzying sensuality.
They broke apart only to gasp in air, and Damen's gaze burned into hers, his fingers shifting to the ribbons of her chemise, yanking them free until the scanty garment joined her gown on the carpet.
He paused then, his ravenous stare raking her from head to toe, lingering on the burnished nest between her thighs, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he struggled for control.
Anastasia wrested it away.
Boldly, she shoved off Damen's open coat, waistcoat and shirt, letting them drop to the floor. Her palms smoothed up the hard planes of his bare chest, exploring the hair-roughened texture, the solid muscle beneath. Then, she reversed her motion, her palms traveling down to his waist, lingering at the buttons of his trousers.
With a wonder and curiosity too arousing to bear, she descended lower, her fingers brushing the rigid length of him, reveling in discovery, then shifting impatiently to the buttons that separated her from her goal.
It was too much.
With a strangled groan, Damen shoved away her hands and dragged her against him. He lifted her in his arms, nuzzling the warm valley between her breasts as he carried her to the bed.
In one unsteady motion, he yanked back the bedcovers, lay her on the sheet, and stepped away only long enough to finish the task she'd begun, kicking free of his remaining clothes. He was literally shaking with need, his hands trembling so badly he could hardly believe this was he.
Naked, he loomed over her, slipping her stockings down her legs and off, already making love to her in a way that made her breath come in shallow pants.
"You're exquisite," he muttered in a raw voice. "My fantasies pale in comparison."
"And you're magnificent." She scrutinized his body with open fascination, shivering as he reached down, cupped her breast, his thumb rasping over the taut nipple.
"Damen." His name was a wisp of sound, a glimmer of heated longing. "Please." She opened her arms to him.
Another filament of control snapped.
"God, I want you," Damen ground out, coming down beside her, watching her breasts swell to his touch, unable to tear his eyes away. "There aren't words…"
"Then don't search for any." Anastasia stroked his shoulders, the muscled planes of his back. "Just make love to me."
A hoarse sound vibrated through him, and Damen covered her body with his, tangling his hands in her hair and lifting her mouth to receive his kiss. His mouth ate at hers, and his chest rubbed across her breasts, teasing her already hardened nipples with slow, tantalizing strokes.
Anastasia whimpered, shifted restlessly beneath him, her thighs instinctively parting to make room for him.
He nudged his hips into place, nestling within the cradle of her thighs and continuing to kiss her, fighting the urge to relinquish the next glorious minutes and just plunge into her, join himself to her in the most fundamental way possible.
This was one fight he intended to win.
Not only to avoid causing her pain—although he was determined to eclipse whatever pain was unavoidable with a deluge of pleasure so acute she'd remember nothing else—but to prolong what he inherently knew would be the most breathtaking of preludes.
One that would lead to the most breathtaking of joinings.
"Not yet," he murmured, shifting his weight to his elbows, staring into her beautiful flushed face.
Anastasia's eyes flew open, her expression rife with confused disbelief.
"Soon," Damen promised, answering her unspoken question, kissing her hot cheeks as he continued to fight the instinctive motion of his hips. "Very soon." He kissed a slow path to her breasts, drawing first one nipple into his mouth, then turning his attentions to the other, teasing each with whisper-light strokes of his tongue.
He was rewarded with a shuddering moan.
Easing himself upward, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her—slow and deep—his tongue gliding forward to entwine with hers. Simultaneously, his palm drifted over her breast, his thumb circling the nipple, still damp from his mouth, then dropping lower, defining the curve of her waist, her hip, finally slipping between her thighs to claim the moist haven he craved above all else.