Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"You finally looked at me, did you? I'm not such a terrible beast, am I? I am made for you, you know. My own theory is that God created woman first, then decided that she needed a mate to laugh with her, to fetch for her, to fill her with his own body."

"I trust you won't say that to any of the Methodists you will meet." She felt his manhood pressing against her thigh, and her leg jerked a bit, rubbing against him.

She raised her hand to his cheek. "You are a beautiful man, Lyon. I think I want you to kiss me now."

He did. She tasted of the sweet wine they'd drunk at dinner and of herself. Of Diana. Life stretched before him with pleasant horizons. "You are very special to me and I want to make you happy."

There were no more words between them. He went slowly until Diana, wanting more, lurched up against him.

Still he held back. He wanted her to have everything, to learn tonight the pleasure he would give her the rest of his life. When he gently eased his finger inside her, he wanted to howl with his own pleasure at her warmth, her enthusiasm, her own need of him. He began to caress her softly swelled woman's flesh and her desire flowed over him.

"That's it," he said into her mouth. "Move against my fingers. What do you feel, Diana?"

"I feel urgent," she gasped. "It just keeps getting stronger."

He felt her tensing, knew that she was hovering on the edge, and lifted his fingers.

Her eyes flew open and her disappointment made him smile. "Hush," he said. "You will like this much better." He eased down her body, parting her legs to come between them. He smiled at her as he lifted her hips. When his mouth closed over her, she stiffened for a brief instant, then cried out.

He held her firmly, feeling the spasm overwhelm her. He knew it was the first time, her first time, and he felt so proud, so triumphant that he forgot his own need. She was filled with passion. All for him. When he felt her climax ease, he came into her, swiftly, fully, driving deep.

Her arms went about his back, and he kissed her, knowing she tasted herself on his mouth. "So sweet, Diana, so sweet."

And he was gone, his body exploding, his mind reeling, and she took his groans into her mouth.

Diana held tight, her mind emptied just as her body was filled with him. She'd never imagined, never guessedShe sighed, kissing his chin, his throat.

"I'll marry you," she said between hisses.

"I thought you just might," Lyon said. He eased off her, bringing her with him onto her side. She fell asleep, her cheek pressed against his chest, her legs tangled with his.

Dim morning light came through the porthole when Diana, her voice accusing, said, "Just what did you mean by that, Lyon?"

He moaned in his sleep, his hand stroking down her side to her hip.

"Lyon!"

He cocked an eye open to see Diana leaning over him, her eyes narrowed, her beautiful hair framing her face and flowing over his chest. "Kiss me," he said.

"I want to know what you meant," she said, but she kissed him.

"Meant by what?" His hand was stroking her buttocks.

"That you thought I would marry you."

His mind finally wound itself back to the previous night and he remembered his self-satisfying words. He gave her a triumphant masculine grin. His fingers eased between her thighs to touch her. "I meant, dear one, that once I gave you pleasure, you would be mine. Forever. Helpless in my net, like one of your groupers."

Diana wanted to tell him that he was a halfwitted gargoyle of questionable antecedents, but his fingers were driving her wild. And he knew it. She tried for outrage, but couldn't find a drop.

"Lyon," she said on a soft wail.

"I know, Diana. I know."

Captain Rafael Carstairs of the Seawitch married Lyonel Ashton, Earl of Saint Leven, to Diana Savarol, spinster, that morning with every man on board witnessing the event.

"You may kiss your bride," Rafael said at last, and Lyon, grinning fatuously, took Diana into his arms. He heard the shouts of the men as his

lips touched hers.