Days of Rakes and Roses (Sons of Sin 1.50)

Her scent, richer, more womanly than the scent of the girl he’d kissed as a youth, intoxicated him. She lay naked before him, all graceful limbs and creamy skin, tinted gold in the candlelight. She was a symphony in ivory and pink. The dark red curls at the junction of her thighs created an enchanting contrast.

As very carefully he placed one hand on the feathery hair covering her mound, every ounce of his desire infused his kiss. She whimpered against his mouth and quivered with shyness. He expected a protest, but she parted her legs to his invasion. He pressed into her softness and slowly traced the sleek lips of her sex. When he found hot moisture, he groaned and buried his head in her bare shoulder.

He heard her ragged gasps as he touched her, preparing her. He discovered the site of her pleasure and circled it with his thumb. She squeaked with surprise. Then, making his heart expand painfully, she lifted her hips in appeal for more.

He craved to take her now. Before the world could rip her away from him as it had before. But the need to give her joy surpassed the roaring of his senses. He eased a finger into her, testing the tightness.

“Simon—”

“Trust me,” he choked out.

She shuddered under his touch, then again, when he stroked deeply. A second finger slid in more easily and this time her moan conveyed pleasure rather than discomfort. He teased her until she started to clench rhythmically around his fingers. She was close but, selfish beast he was, he wanted to be inside her when she experienced her first climax. He burned to share that profound moment with her.

He lifted himself on his arms and stared down at her face. He read powerful need in her toffee-treacle eyes. But it wasn’t enough.

The first time he tried to speak, words failed. He sucked in a jagged breath and spoke roughly. “Is it yes, Lydia?”

With glassy eyes, she stared up at him. Had she understood? Dear God, he didn’t think he could summon willpower to ask again. She spread below him like a banquet and he was a starving man. He prayed for control, telling himself he could hold back if he must.

He watched her swallow, her slender throat moving as though mustering words was difficult for her, too. Then astoundingly, miraculously, her lush mouth curved into a luminous smile. She looked like the disheveled, bewitching girl who had come so close to yielding to him at Fentonwyck.

“Yes, forever yes.”

His lungs emptied in a massive exhalation and his heart slammed against his ribs. He rolled to the side and clumsily tore his breeches away. Finesse was beyond him. Her consent vibrated through him like a thousand cellos playing a triumphant major chord. Or like trumpets blaring to herald the conqueror’s entry into a fallen city.

Balancing on his elbows, he rose, sliding between her legs. This time nothing separated them. Their bodies slid together with an ease that astounded him, as did the naturalness with which she bent her knees to frame his hips.

He bent to kiss her, a kiss immeasurably different from all the others, a kiss to mark the moment that he presented his soul to her on a platter. When he tilted his hips and pushed into her, it was confirmation of lasting vows made in the silence. A silence broken only by their tattered breathing and the thunder of blood in his ears.

The urge to drive into her threatened to overwhelm him. But when she whimpered, he paused, striving for control.

Gritting his teeth, he slid a fraction deeper. She shifted to accommodate him. Her face was wan and tight and she bit down hard on her lip.

“Am I hurting you?” he gasped, wondering what he’d do if she told him to stop.

He’d stop. He could do that for her. It would kill him, but he could.

Her gaze met his, dark, intent, urgent. “Don’t stop.”

He hardly recognized the hoarse voice as hers. He inched farther still, meeting resistance, until he encountered the barrier of her innocence. He lifted her toward him. Still she stared at him out of glistening caramel eyes as if he encompassed her whole world.

“Forgive me, my darling,” he groaned and pushed forward.

Lydia gasped and her body clenched down on his. Then she curled her arms around him and arched until her breasts crushed into his chest.

She closed her eyes and her face relaxed into shining peace. “Simon…”

Joy flooded him, flung him high into a brilliant new world. Her body flowered to accept him and he sank completely into her, claiming her at last. He leaned his head into the smooth curve of her neck, feeling the warm dampness of her skin. How he longed to cling to this moment so that it never left him.

All his life, he’d wanted to be Lydia’s lover. Now that he was, the magnitude of the experience beggared imagination. She was his whole life. Uniting their bodies united their souls in a way he didn’t understand but immediately acknowledged. The bond they forged tonight would outlast eternity. Her hands flattened on his back as she claimed him in return.

The yen to linger and bask in this radiance was strong, even as the need to move surged. As he slowly withdrew, her nails dug into his back. He’d bear her mark tomorrow. The savage thought shot another burst of arousal through him.

He moved back into her, this time more easily. Her body welcomed him and when he met her eyes, they shimmered with love. Brief sorrow struck him for the years they’d lost. Then he stared down at the woman in his arms and knew that she had been worth waiting for. What they had now was deeper and more powerful after enduring through adversity.

She sighed, the sound a long exhalation of pleasure, and rose to meet him. The night fractured into dazzling passion. Simon took her faster and harder, feeling her response spiral with his own.

He thrust one last time and heard her breathing change. Her body convulsed around his and she lost herself to her peak. As her broken cry echoed around the room, hot darkness swamped him and he gave himself up to her.