“Of course, we haven’t gotten to the worst part yet,” she muttered out loud, then could have slapped herself. He’d taken all her natural caution and ripped it away from her. God knew what she’d say next. Tell him that she loved him?
Because she didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. She was going to marry an aristocrat and provide for her family. She had loved Tarkington and where had it gotten her?
She could sense his laughter in the darkness. “The worst part?” he echoed. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Well, it isn’t,” she said in a practical voice. “Not for you.”
“I hate to bring someone else into our bed, Maddy, but exactly how many times have you done this before?” he asked gently.
“Once.” Her voice left little doubt that she’d thought once was enough. And yet here she was, back again, so awash in sensation that she could barely speak.
“Then I’ve got just a little more experience. I’m very good at this, Maddy. Trust me.”
She could feel him now, the blunt head of his cock at her entrance, and she started to brace herself for the assault, when he moved his mouth to her ear. “Breathe, Maddy Rose,” he whispered. And he pushed, sliding partway into her.
“You lied,” she accused him, holding herself terribly still. “It does hurt.”
“That’s because you’re terrified,” he said. “You need to let go. Put your hands on my shoulders. I won’t let you fall.”
For some reason she did what he told her, moving her hands from her mouth to rest on his hot skin. “I can’t let go,” she said in a tight voice.
“Poor darling,” he murmured. And then he leaned forward and bit the lobe of her ear, hard.
She shrieked in shock more than pain, and he thrust into her, filling her so full she thought she might faint. It took her a moment and a deep, calming breath to realize that it didn’t hurt, not the way it had the first time. “You’re too big,” she said with just a trace of grumpiness. “You won’t fit.”
“Gracias,” he said. “But I’ll fit just fine, as long as you relax.”
“What do you mean, you’ll fit?” she echoed. “You mean there’s more?”
“There’s the harridan I know and love,” he said with a laugh. “Yes, Maddy Rose, there’s more. And you’re going to take it all, and you’re going to want it.”
“You said I could stop,” she said. “You said we wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I don’t want to do this.”
“Yes, you do. You’re just frightened.”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” she shot back. She could feel her body softening, accepting him, and he pushed in further. She wanted to hit him.
“Of course you are. You’re afraid of bats, and going out on the ocean, and losing yourself. You’re afraid of lies, you’re afraid of my body when all I want to do is make you feel good.” He pushed in further, and unconsciously she shifted, accommodating him. “You’re afraid of being vulnerable, you’re afraid of me, and I’m willing to bet you’re afraid of spiders.” He cupped her face, and she almost thought she could see the faint glitter of his eyes in the darkness. “But you’re not going to be afraid of this.” And he pushed home, resting against her, and her fingers dug into his shoulder, so tightly they cramped. Holding on, not pushing him away.
“Don’t worry, love,” he said, brushing his mouth against hers. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you.” He rested his forehead against hers, breathing steadily, but she could feel the tension running through him, the sheer strength it was taking to hold still.
“Just get it over with,” she said in a small voice. “I can stand it.”
He laughed, and the sensation traveled through their bodies, and she felt the vibration of it deep inside her. “Such confidence in my skills. Tell you what, Maddy Rose. Lie back and let go, and let me know when you change your mind.”
He began to pull out, and she almost panicked, thinking he was leaving, he’d changed his mind, when he pushed back in again, and she shifted once more.
He did it again, setting up a slow, almost lazy rhythm, and she gripped the sheets again, bracing herself. It took a moment before she realized this was different, this slow, sinuous slide of his body against hers, his cock inside her. She was no longer cold, she was hot, sweaty, moving her hips without conscious decision, letting the sensations move through her body, almost like a dance, as he slid his hands under her and pulled her up against him, and something sparked inside her, something so unexpected that she gasped. He didn’t slow down, didn’t stop—he knew her body better than she did. He knew what would give her pleasure before she did, she released her death grip on his shoulders and slid her arms around his waist, feeling the steady
pounding of his hips, the flex of his muscles. She wanted more, more of him, more of everything. She arched up against him, and he thrust in deeper, deeper still, and the pleasure was so powerful she cried out, sliding her hands up to clutch his back, to hold on as he moved in a determined, endless rhythm. He slid his hands up her legs and wrapped them around his hips, and she kept them there, reveling in the new feelings it was evoking, and she was shaking in his arms and she didn’t know why. This was like nothing she had ever imagined, and when he slid his hand between their bodies, touching the place where he’d licked and sucked and nibbled, something exploded within her, and she went rigid in his arms as everything hung suspended, breath and heartbeat and life itself. And then she collapsed against the bed, limp, complete. But he was still moving, faster now, and he hadn’t moved his hand from between them, and when he touched her again she slammed her face against his shoulder to muffle her scream.
And then he was gone from her, spilling his seed on her stomach, hot liquid washing over her, and she wanted to cry at the loss of him. She wanted everything, even the danger of his seed, and instead he’d protected her. She waited for him to collapse against her, uncertain whether she had enough strength left in her body to hold him, when he dropped down beside her, taking her in his arms and rolling her over him, so that she lay sprawled across his body, his seed wet between them, joining them.
She was lost, broken, and yet somehow whole for the first time in what seemed like forever. She lay across him, boneless, as another stray convulsion swept through her body, and she drew her legs up to savor the sensation.
“Not enough for you, love?” he whispered in her ear, sounding lazy and satisfied. “If you want I can…” He began to move his hand down her hip, and she batted at it helplessly.
“Are you… trying to… kill me?” she gasped, trying to regain her steady breathing and totally failing.