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It was only a few moments later that Rohan slammed open the door, looking as if he was ready to battle demons. Only his own needed defeating. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”
Elinor’s voice was raw from screaming, and she cleared her throat. “Rats,” she said.
“Rats?”
“I saw a huge rat in the corner. The size of a hedgehog, and he was staring at me out of his evil little eyes, and if I hadn’t started screaming he would have…”
Rohan had closed the door behind him by then, moving slowly toward the bed. “And you’re terrified of rats,” he said in a voice devoid of inflection.
“Absolutely terrified. There’s nothing worse than rats. Nothing. And this room is infested with them. They’re everywhere. I need you to rescue me. ”
She saw the smile curve his mouth, slow, reluctant. “Do you know what you’re telling me, poppet?”
“Yes, my love… Come have your wicked way with me. ” And she lay back, closing her eyes, bracing herself.
She felt the smoothness of the covers against her body as he slid in next to her. His hand on her face made her jerk, and she opened her eyes, startled. This wasn’t part of it. He was looking at her with such tenderness.
Author: Anne Stuart
“You really are such a virgin,” he murmured in a soft voice, his long fingers stroking the side of her face.
“No, I’m not,” she protested. “I’ve done this many, many times before. ”
“I beg to correct you. You most certainly have never done what we’re about to do. Permit me to demonstrate. ” And he leaned down and kissed her, holding her face still for his mouth.
He was so gentle at first. His lips barely brushed against hers, featherlight, soft and sweet, and she moved up into the kiss, wanting more.
He opened his mouth, tugging hers open as well, and she felt the astonishing touch of his tongue in her mouth. His hand still held the side of her face, and she knew nothing of this kind of kiss, but she closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure, liking it. Liking it very much. Loving it.
She lifted her own hands, to reach up and touch his face, and then froze. She’d forgotten that this was coupling, this was when she was supposed to lie still, and she started to put her hands back at her sides, when he caught them, drawing them up, and as her fingers cradled his face he deepened the kiss, and for a moment she couldn’t think, she could only feel, and she slid her fingers into his long, loose hair and pulled him closer, making a soft sound of need.
He pulled his mouth from hers, and she could feel the tension in his body. “Sweet poppet, I can’t do this…. Not the way you need it. ” He started to pull away, and she simply put her arms around him, sliding underneath him.
“This is the way I need it,” she said. He’d put her hand on that part of him last night, and it had been hard with wanting. It had to be something he liked, so she did the unthinkable, sliding her hand between them until she touched the hard, hard length of him.
He groaned, pushing into her hand, and she knew she was right. It gave him pleasure. She slid her fingers along the shape of him, stroking, caressing, and when he reached down and freed himself, the warm flesh was even more wonderful. How could something be so soft and so iron hard at the same time? It would hurt her, she knew it would, and accepted it, because this time she would welcome it. Because this was part of him, elemental and powerful, and he would give it to her, and she finally understood why women wanted this.
He moved to his side, just a little bit, and she let him, as he wrapped her fingers around him, encircling him, and he moved his hand over hers, showing her what he liked, the rhythm of his grip, her grip, the way his hips bucked into the feel of her, and this was one more thing she loved.
His eyes were closed, and she could feel the tension running through his body, building, building. She was wet between her legs and she didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the feel of him, his body sliding against hers, his life pulsing in her hand.
And then with sudden startling clarity she realized what he planned to do. He planned to finish in her hand, leaving her body inviolate, and she froze.
“Don’t…stop…” he groaned.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered. “I want you to finish in my body. ”
His groan was powerful, and his need was great. Without another word he rolled over on top of her, shoving her shift up to her waist and pulling her legs apart, and she was just about to brace herself for the pain when he pushed inside her, hard, sliding deep into her with a smoothness that left her breathless, hungry.
She put her feet on the mattress, arching her hips into him, wanting more, and he reached his hands under her rump, moving in deeper still, and she cried out, not in pain, but in some confused need that she didn’t understand.
“It’s too late,” he gasped. “I shouldn’t have…You won’t…”
“Finish it,” she whispered in his ear.
Her words released him. He surged into her, his strokes smooth and hard and deep, and she felt something tight in her throat, in her chest, her breasts, her stomach, but most of all between her legs, and she thought back to the feel of him in her hand, and he reached up and put his mouth on hers, his kiss plunging, possessive, and she knew he was ready for his release, and she was going to love it, every sensation, every sound, every—