Sherbrooke Twins (Sherbrooke Brides 8)

Her eyes were dark, even darker now at midnight. “I don’t want to leave you, Jason. Don’t you want me?”

“Even though you’re a virgin, you can answer that question, Judith. Surely you can feel me against you.”

She squirmed, and he thought he’d die. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, “I feel you. I know that part of you somehow comes inside me, and that sounds very strange, but I’ve decided that I want to learn all about it tonight. I’m nearly twenty, after all. I want you to teach me.”

“I can’t do this, I just can’t.” It took all his will to flip her off him and over on her back. When he immediately turned to look down at her, he wondered if it had been such a fine idea. He was balanced on one elbow. His left hand was free to stroke her hair, to touch her cheek, her lips, her chin. She was wearing a virginal white nightgown, a soft white wrapper over it, tied at her waist. His hand hovered then touched her throat. He leaned down and kissed her.

The hand that was on her throat an instant before was suddenly touching her breast. He leaped away from her, rolled off the bed, and came up, breathing hard, to stare down at the girl he loved, lying on her bac

k in the middle of his bed, every naked delightful inch of her only two very soft muslin layers away from him.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, an action that nearly made him howl. “You’re incredible, Jason.”

“What? Oh.” He grabbed his dressing gown, but she came quickly up on her knees and pulled it from him. “I would like to stare at you for a while. I’ve never seen a naked man before and I’ve heard that every single inch of you is beautiful. I would like to see for myself that this is indeed a fact. Is that all right?”

“No, it isn’t a good idea. If you look at me even another second, I will leap on you, and it will be all over for both of us.”

“I think I’d like you to leap on me.”

“No, there are consequences to leaping, consequences you wouldn’t like.”

“What does it matter?”

He could but stare at her.

“You love me.”

“Yes, but-”

“Then why can’t you be with me tonight? Why does it matter if we wait?”

He said, his voice austere, like his father’s when he was set upon teaching one of his sons a lesson, “Because a girl is to be a virgin on her wedding night.”

“Does that mean that you want a wedding night with me? Couldn’t we just pretend that this is our wedding night?”

He was shaking, couldn’t help it. He was so wild with lust he didn’t know how he could put words together. He could actually feel his common sense being eaten away around the edges. He said, desperate now, “You want a wedding night now? But what if I get you pregnant? Such things happen, Judith, surely you know that. I can do things to lessen the risk, but-”

“What?”

He closed his eyes a moment. “I can withdraw from you before I spill my seed.”

“Oh. Well, then.” She gave him a siren’s smile. He didn’t see it clearly, but he saw enough of it to nearly stutter himself into the floor. He said slowly, “Th-that would mean marriage.”

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

Jason knew he was ready for marriage, knew he wanted to marry her, and here she was, wanting him, eager for him, and she didn’t want to wait.

Who cared?

He was breathing hard when he pulled her up against him. She was soft and willing and her hair fell nearly to her waist, thick, wonderfully soft hair, hair as dark as her eyes, contrasting dramatically with her skin that was as white as a cloudless moon. And he said into her hair, “If I get you with child, then we will wed very soon, all right?”

“Yes,” she said between kisses, “all right.”

He was twenty-five, old enough not to be awkward or selfish or too fast, but it was difficult. When he had her naked, he wanted to take her in that instant, and he saw the invitation in her eyes, saw it clearly, knew that she wanted him, but he had to make this very nice for her. How could he do that when he was ready to explode? Her hands were all over him, and she was encouraging him, parting her legs to bring him closer against her. When he was trembling he was in such bad shape, she lifted her hips to bring him into her. Oh God, it was more than a man could take, but he sucked in a deep breath and told himself he had to hold back or he would be consigned to that group of pathetic dolts who lost their wits when a naked woman was lying beneath them, their legs spread. No, no, he had to stop thinking like that. He looked down at her, and knew this was her first time and he wasn’t about to muck it up. When his mouth was on her, she began shaking. Then she was sobbing, deep in her throat, hitting her fists against his shoulders. When she reached her orgasm, Jason looked at her face as his fingers now caressed her. Astonishment, that was the first thing he saw in her wide dark eyes, then tearing pleasure, and her eyes went wild and blind. He eased the rhythm of his fingers slowly, very slowly; he came over her and came into her, slow and deep. To his surprise, she began to move against him, drawing him deeper, and he nearly fell off the cliff when she cried out in pain. “Hold on to me, Judith. Just hold on.” He gritted his teeth, and went deep, deeper, and when he touched her womb, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t want to yell to the ceiling, someone would hear him. He managed to keep that in his brain, but it was difficult. He swallowed his cries, his body heaving over her, and then as suddenly, every thought in his head, every feeling that had raced through him-all of it was hovering around him, indistinct and blurred, like the softest of veils, and it was easy and fine, and he eased down on top of her.

“You didn’t come out of me.”

He froze. “No,” he said slowly, “I forgot.”