"So do you," Aurora whispered. And she meant it. Nothing could describe this exquisite sensation of being possessed; nothing could lessen its wonder. Not even when the fullness transformed to pressure, threatened to become pain.
Biting her lip, Aurora wrapped her arms around Julian, caressing his feverish skin, feeling the sweat-drenched planes of his back shuddering beneath her touch. Her palms shifted to his shoulders, savoring the rigid muscles that—despite his earlier claim—trembled as they fought to slow his frenzied entry. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't hold back."
He shook his head, hard. "I'm hurting you."
"I don't care."
"Feel … with me," Julian rasped, his breathing harsh, labored. "Feel … beyond the pain…" He broke off, shifting his weight to his elbows, his hand sliding between their bodies, his fingers finding her.
A jolt of pleasure shot through Aurora, making her arch, drawing Julian deeper inside her. Pain became a reality—a reality that was eclipsed by the escalating sensations Julian's touch rekindled. He lowered his head, kissed her, his mouth hot and slow, his tongue gliding over hers even as his fingers glided over her most sensitive spot. Again, again—until everything went spinning away in a tidal wave of sensation and Aurora's nails dug into Julian's back, tugging him closer, needing him more, more.
When she was beyond rational thought, Julian acted.
With one purposeful lunge of his hips, he thrust past the thin veil of her innocence, burying himself to the hilt in her clinging warmth. Aurora tensed, her body registering a fleeting protest.
That protest died as quickly as it had begun.
Ever so slightly Julian rocked against her, his fingers continuing their erotic assault, refusing to allow her pleasure to recede. She melted around him in a rush, lifting against his palm, and by her very action, forcing him so deep inside her, she gasped.
Julian's reaction was savage. Throwing back his head, he emitted a feral roar, the veins in his neck standing out with the force of his need. He dragged his hand free, grasping Aurora's thighs and lifting them high around his waist. Clutching her bottom, he hauled her against him, opening her fully and crushing her loins to his.
This time it was Aurora who screamed.
Drowning pleasure coursed through her, throbbing through her body, drenching her yearning core. She shook her head vehemently when Julian withdrew, only to cry out her rapture as he drove forward again, filling her to bursting and grinding their hips together. His thrusts intensified—faster, harder—melding their loins over and over as he moved on her, in her. Reality vanished, time ceased to exist, and the world disintegrated into nothing but Julian … Julian … Julian…
They went over the edge together. Aurora sobbed as the contractions claimed her, washed over her in great untamable waves. From a distance she heard Julian emit a guttural shout, grip her to him as if to bind them forever. Then he was pounding into her, pulsing surges of release flooding from his body to hers in spasms Aurora could actually feel.
Drenched in sweat, they collapsed on the carriage seat, Julian's body blanketing Aurora's completely. She was acutely aware of the tremors rippling through him, the final surges of his seed spilling into her. Rather than cumbersome, his weight felt wonderfully comforting, and Aurora's eyelids drooped, too weary to remain open another instant. She was more exhausted than she'd ever dreamed possible, her body too numb to ache, too sated to move.
She must have slept.
A bumpy, jostling motion awakened her, and her eyes fluttered open. Frowning, she tried to recall where she was, why it was so dark, and why the room was moving.
The powerful body atop hers jogged her memory.
Shifting a bit, Aurora became abruptly aware of how battered she felt, how cramped the carriage seat really was. Still she was reluctant to stir. She touched strands of Julian's damp hair, stroked his head as it rested in the crook of her neck, his body relaxed and devoid of tension.
And inside hers still.
"You're awake." Julian's observation was deep, husky, murmured just beside her ear.
Aurora smiled. "You sound disappointed."
"Only because you feel so bloody good." He raised his head, his expression half teasing, half sober. "And now I'll have to move."
"Don't." Her arms tightened around him.
"Sweetheart, I've all but crushed you." He cast a rueful glance at the seat. "For the first time I regret our whereabouts. Were this a bed, I'd manage to ease over enough to free you of my weight while staying deep inside you. As it is…" He brushed her lips with his, then—with great reluctance—withdrew, kneeling on the seat and helping Aurora to a sitting position. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, concern knitting his brows.
Aurora leaned her head back, studying her husband with drowsy, sated eyes. "Oh, I think I'm a good deal better than 'all right'." She stretched, unbothered by her nudity, her sigh the epitome of contentment. "Passion, excitement, and adventure all within hours of exchanging our vows. I'm duly impressed, Your Grace."
Julian chuckled, brushing tendrils of hair from Aurora's flushed cheeks. "As am I, soleil—even if you did completely ignore my warning."
"Is that a complaint?"
"On the contrary. Even I never anticipated quite how high our fire would burn."
Scrambling to the edge of the seat, Aurora reached down and groped through their discarded clothing until she found Julian's waistcoat, extracted his timepiece.