Something Borrowed (Borrowed Brides 3)

"Touch me," he told her.

Mary rushed to obey. Her untutored hands aroused him to such an extent, he finally had to stop her.

"No more," he muttered, against her breast.

"More?" she asked, stroking him gently.

"No!" Lee reached between them and grabbed hold of her wrist to make her stop the exquisite torture.

"Don't you like it?"

"I love it," he groaned. "But I can only take so much. Christ, Two-shot, I want to make love to you."

"Then get on with it, Lee," Mary said. "Don't keep me waiting any longer." She felt hot and achy and almost delirious with need.

Lee didn't need any more convincing. He let go of her wrist, and grabbed her ruffled nightgown by the hem and whisked it up around her waist, pushed it up, and over her head. Mary sighed with relief. At last she was naked against him.

Lee kissed his way down her body and his tongue seemed to light little bonfires wherever he touched her. Although his lips were otherwise occupied, his hands eagerly roamed where they would, finally coming to rest on her inner thigh.

Mary reacted immediately, opening her legs ever so slightly to allow him greater access. She couldn't seem to get close enough to him. Her anticipation ro

se to a fever pitch. Her excitement made Lee feel crazy. He had to have her. He had to feel himself inside her, feel her surrounding him, feel them joined together the way husbands and wives were meant to be joined.

Lee placed his hands under Mary's hips, lifting her slightly as he leaned forward and positioned himself to enter her in one fluid motion. "Slow or fast?" He offered her the choice, although he seriously doubted whether or not he could go slow even if she asked him too. "Hard or soft?"

"Now, Lee," Mary answered as she locked her long legs around his waist, "Please. Now."

By the time Lee felt the barrier, it was too late. "I'm sorry," he said as he surged forward and buried himself in her depths.

Mary cried out as he pushed into her, then sank her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. She unlocked her legs and tried to move away from the pain, but Lee held her fast.

"Lie still, Two-shot, and the pain will lessen." He kissed her cheek, then her eyelids, and finally, her mouth. He kissed her gently, tenderly, reverently, and held her as if she were precious and fragile.

She shifted her hips experimentally, then moaned as the feverish pleasure-pain began to build once again.

"Ssh, ssh, sweetheart, I promise it will get better."

Mary lifted her hips again, and this time Lee understood. He fought to go slowly, fought to maintain control, and his body strained with the effort. Mary tightened her hold on him. She put her arms around his neck, then locked her legs around his waist once again. She held on as he supported her hips with his hands as he began to move within her. Gently, slowly at first, then faster.

The dull aching pain gradually disappeared and a different kind of ache took its place. Mary followed Lee's lead, matching her movements to his until they developed a rhythm uniquely their own. She kissed him as they moved together—kissed his arms, his shoulders, his neck, his chin, the corner of his mustache. And she trusted him to lead her to that place that seemed just beyond her reach, the place where she became him and he became her, the place where the two of them became one. And then suddenly, she felt him shudder uncontrollably, heard him yell her name, and Mary let herself go with him. The real world seemed to slip away, there was only Lee and the almost unbearable feeling of pleasure spiraling inside her. She called out his name. In wonder. In joy. And in gratitude.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mary awoke later to find her head cradled on Lee's shoulder, her hair fanned out across the pillow, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist. Her hand rested atop the cotton dressing covering his wound. She sighed, then snuggled closer to him and pressed her lips against the side of his chest. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Lee answered in a husky voice as he tightened his arm around her. "It appears that I don't have the willpower to refuse a woman when she says please and thank-you so nicely."

"A woman?" Mary asked.

"Did I say woman?" Lee asked innocently. "I meant to say my wife. And not in name only, I might add."

"Not anymore." Mary stretched lazily.

"Happy birthday," he said softly.

"Was this my birthday present?" she asked, cuddling closer.