"Yes," she said, "this is magic, but I am afraid all the same."
"By the time I come into you, you will feel only desire, I swear it."
Still he hadn't moved. He was waiting, waiting for her to invite him to her. There would be no question of forcing this time.
"You will be my husband."
Lyon realized of course that she was stating a fact that she had finally accepted. He wished he weren't so obvious, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted her so much he hurt. But then again, he'd hurt for so long, what did a few more minutes matter?
"Yes, I will be your husband. I will take care of you, Diana, protect you, and probably fight with you until the day I leave this earth. I will try to make you happy."
"And will you love me?"
There, it was said. Her words hovered between them.
"If I do not come to love you, I will be most astounded at my shallowness. I am most fond of you, I find you delightful, and I will come to trust you, surely. It must be enough for both of us for the present. I will not lie to you, Diana."
She was silent for a long moment. Finally, she said, "Do you think I am beautiful?"
He trembled and she saw it. His voice was thick and harsh. "I think you are the most exquisite creature imaginable."
"You are too."
He smiled. "I want to touch you now, Diana. I want to kiss every inch of you. I want to love you and caress you until you are silly with it."
"All right," she said, and lay back. "Can I do those things to you?"
Lyon wondered if he could control himself. She could have no idea as yet how desperate a man could be. The thought of her kissing him, touching himHe wouldn't hurt her. He had been so certain he could control himself before she'd taken her chemise off. "I don't know if that would be such a good idea this time."
He drew a deep breath and stepped toward her. He eased down beside her, not touching her yet, just looking into her eyes. They were dark, luminous, filled with moonlight and anticipation. He could feel the warmth from her body.
He leaned over her and very lightly kissed her mouth. He felt her hand come up and gently touch his bare shoulder. He kissed her more deeply. Her fingers tightened.
Very gently, he placed his open palm against her breast. He felt her body leap, felt her sharp intake of breath. He recited Latin declensions to himself. Merciful heavens, he should have relieved his need before coming to her. He drew back, striving desperately for control.
"Lyon?"
"It's you, Diana, you are presenting me with a problem. You see, I want you too much. Just touching your breast is driving me beyond reason." He felt her quiver with his words, and quickly lifted his hand from her breast.
"I don't understand."
Too much innocence, he thought, looking down at her widened eyes, seeing the confusion in their depths.
"I want to come inside you. Now. I hurt so much I want to howl at the moon."
"All right." To his consternation, those long legs of hers parted.
He groaned. Merciful heavens, he wanted to go slowly, give her pleasure, but without his permission, his hand slid over h
er belly and cupped her, his fingertips pressing inward to find her.
Diana froze. She heard his harsh breathing, felt him looking down at her even as his fingers pressed and stroked. She wanted in that instant to run, to escape, to be free of him and herself, to remain unchanged.
"You're becoming wet."
"Oh, no," she gasped, and her thighs closed tightly, capturing his hand between them.
She felt his fingers gently parting her; then, before she could react, one finger slowly slipped inside her. She couldn't stop her body's reaction. She was throbbing, convulsing about his finger as it went deeper.