Whimpering, she pressed herself desperately against the strong, muscular male body lying beneath her, suddenly aware that his dressing gown had fallen open to expose his hot, bare skin, his naked loins…his swollen hardness that jutted upward to press against her abdomen. Instinctively, her hips ground against him, seeking to get closer.
With a strangled groan, Marcus tore away his mouth from hers. His hands tangled in her hair as he stared up at her. “If you don’t want this, then tell me now.”
She knew what he was asking. Her throat dry, her breath rasping, her heart pounding, Arabella nodded slowly. “I want this… I want you.”
Fire flared in his eyes. Marcus rolled over her, pinning her beneath his weight. Then reaching up, he grasped the delicate collar of her nightdress and ripped the thin cambric to her waist, baring the ripe fullness of her breasts. Before her surprised gasp could even escape her throat, his head dipped to her breasts and he took a taut nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. Arabella nearly came up off the bed at the delicious sensation.
Squeezing the firm mounds together, he lavished attention on her throbbing nipples until she was moaning hoarsely for him. “Marcus…please…”
His hand reached down between their bodies then, dragging up the hem of her torn nightshift, slipping between her thighs to stroke her pulsing cleft. “Not yet. You’re not ready for me yet.”
“I am…this fire…” She was burning with need for him, her very core aching with flaming hunger.
Lifting himself up, he tore her nightdress the rest of the way, then shrugged out of his dressing gown and threw it to the carpet, baring his magnificent, powerful body. Kneeling between her spread thighs, he took her hips in his hands and bent to her.
When his magic mouth found her feminine center, her response was half scream, half sob-a helpless, pleading sound that turned to a keening cry as he ravished her with his sensual expertise, his lips stroking, his tongue plunging in deep. Her hands clenched in his hair as the fire built to a raging inferno, then finally erupted inside her.
When eventually she regained her senses, Marcus was kneeling over her, watching her, his eyes tender, his face taut and flushed with his effort at control.
“Please, don’t stop…” Arabella managed to begin a hoarse whisper.
He went utterly still. For a long moment they remained staring at each other, their gazes locked, time frozen in a moment so sharp, so raw, she could hear his heartbeat, feel the turbulent rhythm echo her own. She knew what caused his hesitation. He was her first lover, her only lover. The next step would be irrevocable.
“Marcus,” she whispered again, reaching for him.
His smile was solemn and enchanting, his voice low and hoarse as he replied, “I won’t stop.”
He lowered his body to hers, covering her, and eased her thighs wider with his. The tenderness in his eyes deepening, he bent to kiss her again. His mouth, which had been fierce and hungry before, gentled from ravishment to tantalizing seduction.
She could feel his hard length probing for entrance. As he pushed inside her a fraction of an inch, Arabella froze, but he brushed her temple with his lips. “Try to relax, Belle. I will be as careful as I can.”
With exquisite care, he pressed forward, gliding in slowly, slowly…his huge, swollen arousal stretching her flesh, filling her. There was a moment of pain, but it quickly subsided. Arabella felt only a throbbing fullness as at last he sank in the entire way.
Marcus held completely still so she could grow accustomed to his alien hardness, feathering light kisses over her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
After another moment, he began to move, withdrawing the slightest measure, then pressing in again. Meanwhile his hands were stimulating her breasts, softly kneading, his thumbs stroking the sensitive buds. Arabella trembled, then gasped as another streak of fire ignited deep and low inside her.
She hadn’t expected to be aroused this intensely so soon after his last devastating assault on her senses. But to her shock, the inferno began to build within her again. She was suddenly on fire. Marcus’s naked skin burned hers, his body setting hers ablaze. Her breath came in short panting bursts as her hips began to move of their own accord, seeking completion from him in a rhythm as old as time.
His breath as tortured as hers, Marcus braced his weight on his forearms and lifted his head to gaze down at her lovely face. He wanted to watch Arabella climax as he took her, wanted to watch her skin flush with passion as they consummated their union for the very first time.
And yet he could feel his control slipping, could feel his need and desire swelling to overwhelming proportions. He struggled to go slowly as Arabella writhed and moaned beneath him, but when she suddenly arched and cried out in ecstasy, he surrendered to his need with a hoarse cry of his own, his body clenching and spasming with the same blazing pleasure she was feeling.
The shattering, searing explosion left him gasping for breath. In the aftermath, Marcus collapsed upon her, trying to spare her the brunt of his weight, and lay there bonelessly as the fire slowly receded.
It was a long while before either one of them could breathe with any semblance of calm. Then slowly, with great care, he pulled out of her…flinching when she winced.
“Did I hurt you?” Marcus murmured in concern.
Shaking her head, she gazed up at him with a dazed, dreamy smile. “Fanny told me that lovemaking was supposed to be unpleasant the first time, but it wasn’t in the least.”
Relieved, he rolled onto his back and gathered Arabella in his arms, drawing her into the haven of his body.
Snuggling against him, she gave a deep, languid sigh. After a time she found her voice. “Is it always like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like fire. Like fiery…magic.”