Devils Bride (Cynster 1)

She'd rehearsed an acceptance speech-this was even better; actions, after all, spoke far louder than words. With a sigh of pure delight, she sank deeper into his embrace, returning his kiss with unfeigned eagerness.

Tension gripped him. He lifted her; their kiss unbroken, he lowered her to the daybed. And followed her down; Honoria's breath fled. She knew his body was hard, but she'd never had it pressed against her, limb to limb, down her entire length. The shock was delicious; with a stifled gasp, she pushed aside his coat and eagerly spread her hands over his chest.

And felt the sudden hitch in his breathing, sensed his sudden surge of desire. From deep within, she answered it, flagrantly enticing his tongue to duel and dance with hers. She set her long legs tangling with his; her hands reached further. She would be no passive spectator; she wanted to feel, to experience, to explore.

Which was more encouragement than Devil could stand. Abruptly, he pulled back, caught her hands and anchored them over her head. Immediately, he recaptured her lips, desire growing, escalating wildly, barely restrained. Ravenous, he deepened the kiss, searching for appeasement, fighting, simultaneously, to retain control.

Half-trapped beneath him, Honoria arched, responding to the intimacy, the steadily growing heat. Desire, a palpable entity, welled and swelled; she squirmed, silk sliding sensuously between them, then moaned and tugged against his hold. He broke their kiss only long enough to say: "No."

Twisting her head, she avoided his lips. "I only want to touch you."

"Forget it," he grated. He was dangerously overheated, driven by a desire he'd seriously underestimated; her wandering hands would be the last straw.

"Why?" Honoria tested his grip, then twisted, trying to gain greater purchase; one soft thigh pressed close, then slid downward, provocatively stroking that part of his anatomy he was desperately trying to ignore.

His breath hissed in; she pressed closer-Devil forgot why-forgot everything bar the need to assuage the driving force that filled him. Desire crystallized, hardening every muscle. Tightening every nerve. Obliterating the last remnants of caution. He caught her chin and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. He shifted, one leg trapping hers, using his weight to subdue her.

Not that she was struggling. Her lips clung to his, passionately enticing. She moaned again, this time in abandoned entreaty; her body arched, caressing his, inviting, inciting.

His hand dropped from her jaw to possessively cup one breast; he kneaded the firm mound, then rolled its tip to a tight bud.

Honoria gasped; her breast throbbed, then ached as his fingers played. She writhed, savoring his tensed muscles, shifting in response. His body was close-she ached to have him closer. Much closer. Heat flared wherever he touched her; she needed his hardness to quench the flame, to satisfy the fever that sang in her veins.

She wanted him, needed him-there was no longer any reason she couldn't have him. Desperately, she tugged at his grip-it firmed. His hand left her breast-before she could protest, she heard a muffled click. She stilled-the bodice of her gown peeled away. Her heart thudded, then raced. The drawstring of her chemise pulled tight, then released-the gossamer-fine fabric floated down, leaving her breasts bare.

Devil lifted his head; Honoria drew in a shuddering breath. She felt the cool touch of the moonlit air, felt the heat of his gaze. Her nipples crinkled tight. Lifting lids suddenly heavy, she looked up. His face was graven, harsh planes sharp-edged. Her breasts throbbed painfully; as if he could sense it, he bent his head.

And touched his lips to her heated skin. Honoria stiffened; her senses leapt. Devil dropped hot kisses around one aureole, then drew the soft flesh into his mouth. She tensed. He suckled-and she thought she would die. Sensation streaked through her; her toes curled. She gasped, her body tightening, lifting against him. Her fingers, still locked above her head, clenched tight.

He tortured her soft flesh until she cried out, then turned to her other breast. Only when that, too, was aching fiercely, when her body felt molten, pulsing with need, did he raise his head. From beneath her lashes, Honoria watched as he skimmed his hand down, possessively caressing the smooth curve of her hip, then tracing the long sweep of her thigh. Her lungs seized when his fingers slid beneath her hem; her heart stopped when, in one, smooth motion, he swept her skirts up to her waist.

Honoria trembled. Cool air caressed her fevered flesh; his gaze, hot as the sun, dispelled the chill, roaming comprehensively, surveying what he intended to possess. Then he turned his head and met her gaze. His hand tightened about her bare hip, then slid lower in a tantalizing caress, hard palm and long fingers stroking knowingly down, then up.

Her gaze trapped in his, Honoria shuddered. He leaned closer; she shut her eyes as his lips found hers. She gave herself up to him, up to their kiss, surrendered to the sweet wildfire that rose between them.

Devil's conqueror's soul relished the victory-he pressed on, eager for the final conquest. The long sweep of her ivory thighs was a potent attraction, her skin warm satin to his touch. Her softly rounded belly tensed beneath his hand; he slid his palm over her hip, his fingers curving about one firm buttock.

Knowingly, he traced, caressed; tangling his fingers in the soft curls at the apex of her thighs, he gently teased. Beneath him, Honoria shifted restlessly, her lips clinging to his. He drew back, fleetingly studying her face, passion-blank. At his whispered command, she parted her thighs-then gasped as he touched her, then cupped her. Only when that first flaring shock of awareness had died did he caress her, intimately stroking the delicate swollen folds, parting them to find the bud of her desire, already hard and throbbing. He circled it, and felt her passion rise-he found her slickness and gently probed, deliberately inciting the wave of desire building between them.

The higher the wave, the headier the ride, the more profound the final crash. Bringing years of experience to bear, he fed her passion until it became a raging tide.

Caught on the crest, Honoria knew nothing beyond her violent need, centered in the swollen, throbbing flesh he so knowingly stroked, so tantalizingly caressed. Then one long finger slid deeper, circled, then pressed deeper still. She caught her breath on a moan; her body lifted, helplessly seeking. He stroked-the heat within her ignited.

Again and again came that intimate invasion; eyes closed, senses raging, she wanted more. He knew her need; his lips returned to hers, his tongue claiming her mouth in the same, mesmerizingly languid rhythm with which he probed her heated body.

Her breasts swollen and heavy, Honoria arched against him, trying to ease their ache. Abruptly, he released her lips; a second later, his mouth fastened about one nipple.

A strangled shriek escaped her-lightning streaked through her; the conflagration within her roared. The hand locked about hers disappeared. Devil shifted; using one hand to ease the ache of one breast, he caressed the other with lips and tongue. Between her thighs, his fingers slid deep, and still deeper.

Her hands free, Honoria reached for him.

Immediately, events became more heated, more urgent. She wrestled his cravat from him, then set about undoing the buttons of his shirt. Frantic, she stopped halfway and, shifting, squirming and panting, struggled with his coat. Devil struggled to hold her still. With a muttered curse, he suddenly pulled back and shrugged, then flung his coat and waistcoat aside. Honoria welcomed him back with open arms, thrilled to her toes when she finally made contact with his naked chest. His muscles tensed, shifted-greedily, she explored. Crisp hair tangled about her fingers; beneath her palms, he burned.

Devil felt her yank his shirt free of his waistband, felt her small hands slide about him, reaching to caress the broad muscles of his back. He raised his head. She tightened her hold-the twin peaks of her breasts pressed against his bare chest; the heat between her thighs scalded him. That naked embrace left him shaking, gasping, struggling to regain any glimmer of control. Every instinct he possessed urged him on, urged him to take all she offered, to sink into her slick heat and take her, claim her beyond recall. The pressure of that instinct was overwhelming; his fingers were on the buttons of his trousers, his rake's instincts running a final cursory check-when he remembered her fear.

Her reason for not marrying.

He stilled. Then blinked. He heard his ragged breathing, felt his chest swell. Raging desire pounded at his senses; passion, unleashed, fought for release. But… In that crazed instant, lust and will collided. The shock was almost physical. The wrenching effort required to draw his hands from Honoria, to roll away and sit up, left him giddy.