His hands roamed over waist and hips and thighs. She didn’t hear her dress rip, so she was startled at the sudden coolness across her chest. When his hands closed greedily on her breasts, she cried out in surrender. His long fingers plucked the beaded peaks, teased the areolas, stroked and squeezed and pinched. She’d recognized his desire weeks ago, but had no idea he wanted her so ferociously.
His hands pushed her to the edge of pain, but the agony was glorious. Never had she felt this intensity. Awe lanced through her.
Still he wasn’t tender. She was past caring. She’d permit him anything, as long as he kept kissing her, touching her, panting his appreciation into her neck. She burned to touch him. Return this bliss. Conquer him in turn.
Hesitantly she slid a shaking hand between their bodies, cupping him. He was large, vigorous, daunting in her hand. She shuddered to feel the vibrant life. The thought of all that power thrusting inside her made her head swim.
“Damn it, Pen,” he groaned into her bare shoulder and nipped her sharply.
Shock sizzled through her with the sting. His savagery appalled her, scared her, but spiked her excitement to a level where she threatened to combust.
“Should I stop?” The storm made her feel as though they were in a world of their own. She nibbled a line up his neck and along his strong jaw. “Tell me to stop.”
“Hell, no,” he groaned and drew one pointed nipple into his mouth. More exquisite pain flowed into intoxicating pleasure. To share this delightful hurt, she clenched her other hand in his tangled, wet hair.
He sucked her other nipple. Heat flooded her as every muscle tightened into a delicious coil. Through the haze, she felt his hand on her leg above her stocking. Another hitch against the ship’s movement and his fingers curled around her mound. She jerked at the intimacy.
She tugged at his shirt until her lips skimmed hard pectorals, kissed the mat of soft hair. When one long finger invaded her body, she released a sharp inhalation and sank her teeth into his chest. He jerked and returned the favor with a sharp bite to her throat.
With a stagger, he swung her from the window. Away from the embrasure, the ship’s pitching was dizzying. Or perhaps Pen was dizzy with passion. Cam tumbled her toward the luxurious bed where she’d slept alone for two weeks, tormented to know he lay just across the corridor.
Breathless with excitement, she toppled back onto the mattress. Then she was doubly breathless when Cam flung himself on top of her. His weight was unfamiliar, thrilling. The boat’s tossing rolled them together so they wrestled like puppies. Inside her, a great emptiness yearned. She ached for Cam to fill her. She grabbed his shirt and ripped it off, desperate to feel his bare skin. She was as fierce as he was. Even now when it was clear that he was mad for her, she still feared that this glory might end before she’d drunk it to the dregs.
Cam fondled her breasts, pressing them together, kissing her nipples. Response rippled through her like fire as she bowed up toward the hot rasp of his tongue.
He kept speaking, broken words of praise and encouragement. Kiss me. Touch me. Hold me. There. There. Ah, just there. You’re beautiful. I want you. That’s right. More. Harder. Tighter. Don’t stop. A feverish litany of demands that set her wayward heart pitching like the yacht.
With an urgency that stoked her craving, he slid down her body, setting his mouth wherever he reached. Throat. Breasts. Stomach, still covered by her shift. She’d had no idea her skin was so sensitive. Somewhere between the window and the bed, she’d lost her corset. She still wore her dress. Barely. Her skirts frothed around her hips.
His hands were everywhere. She jolted as he ripped her drawers away. His touch commanding, he caught her thighs and parted her. The ship gave a mighty kick as though protesting at his action.
Chest heaving as he rose, Cam caged her between his arms. “You drive me insane.”
Gasping, she hooked her hands around his neck and held on hard. Making love in this storm was like embracing on a galloping horse. “I think we’re both insane.”
Lightning flashed again and again, turning the room continually bright. He looked desperate, as she’d never seen him. She thrilled to think that she, Penelope Thorne, did this to him. He dipped his hips until he rubbed against the place where she wanted him.
“I need more than this.” Urgency made him sound angry.
“Don’t talk.” She pressed higher into that intriguing hardness, gathering her courage to unbutton his breeches. Above, there was a deafening crash as if a mighty tree fell. The yacht plunged, setting Pen bouncing. If Cam had been naked, he’d be inside her.
His hands on her waist were insistent, holding her firm against the shifting mattress. “Say you’ll give me more than this.”
What on earth? She frowned at him, struggling through her lunatic arousal to understand what he asked. “Of course I’ll give you more than this.”
“Having you once isn’t enough. Give me a month.” He pressed his face to her naked breast. “We’ll go somewhere. Somewhere nobody knows us. Cornwall. The Highlands. France. A month will make no difference to your aunt’s bequest.”
Bewilderment, passion, recklessness vanished within the second. Like freezing seawater, stark reality crashed down. “A month,” she repeated flatly.
He didn’t notice her tone or that her body no longer curved toward his in welcome. Instead, she lay stiff as the planking on the deck.
“A month. Say you’ll give me that much.” He shifted to cradle her face in his elegant hands. “I promise you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.”
Quickly and thoroughly, he kissed her. There was still no tenderness. Minutes ago, she wouldn’t have minded. Stupid, brainless, needy little fool she was. Even now, her heart raced, her skin yearned for his touch.
“What’s wrong?” He raised his head and stared at her in concern. “Is it the storm? This is hardly the best place to start an affair, but I see you and I can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“Apparently.”